On the Other Side Read Online Free PDF Page A

speed until she was gone, but something kept her rooted to the spot. She was powerless to do anything but listen to Neal rant and rave. Eventually, she was so exhausted that she managed to completely tune him out. Huddled in a corner on the floor, she cried herself to sleep.
    While Damita slept fitfully locked inside of a closet, Neal stewed on the other side, waiting for the moment when the door would open. He had no interest in sleep. He was keyed up and anxious to resume where he left off.
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    It was nearly seven in the morning when Damita awakened. She looked around, frowning, then winced when she felt the split in the corner of her mouth. Without a window or clock she wasn’t even sure what time of the day it was. She could hear Neal pleading outside the closet door to let him in. This time, instead of yelling and screaming, he spoke barely above a whisper.
    â€œPlease, baby, I need you to open the door. The police are here.”
    Disoriented and still wearing her wedding dress, she suddenly remembered what happened the night before. Glancing at the full-length mirror, she could see that there were bloodstains on her mother’s beautiful wedding dress. It occurred to her that it was the same dress she had told Carmella she might like to one day pass on to her own daughter, if she ever decided to have children. It was the same dress her mother was wearing when she’d married Damita’s father. Her father had always been her ideal of what a man should be. All she ever wanted was to be lucky enough to have the same sort of marriage her parents had enjoyed for over four decades. That dress was now tainted with so much more than a few blood stains. She realized she would never be able to look at that dress the same again and wondered how she would explain any of this, including the dress, to her mother.
    â€œDamita, I’m afraid if you don’t open the door soon, the police are going to bust in here with their guns drawn.”
    Damita could sense Neal’s attempt at levity in his voice. The forced chuckle he added was unconvincing.
    She exited the closet and glanced meekly at Neal. The bloody dress forgotten, she walked into the living room and toward the front door of the apartment.
    â€œWait!” Neal cautioned.
    Damita visibly recoiled at the sound of his voice. Recognizing her response to him, he softened his tone.
    â€œTake the dress off,” he whispered.
    Neal didn’t bother waiting for Damita to respond and unzipped the back. She stepped out of it, leaving the beautiful lace embroidered dress lying in the middle of the floor. She grabbed her robe from a chair and proceeded to the front door in order to let the police officers in, while Neal nervously looked around the apartment. In the corner the large Queen Anne, oxblood-colored armchair she had selected for the apartment was turned over. The chair was so heavy, she was amazed at the level of anger it must have taken for Neal to turn the chair on its side. She looked at him and he looked at her pleadingly, and with what Damita thought was remorse.
    â€œWho is it?” Damita asked, before opening the door.
    â€œPolice, Ma’am.”
    â€œCan I help you? It’s kind of early. I’m not dressed.”
    â€œThat’s okay. We can wait.”
    By the time Damita opened the door, Neal was standing at her side, having tidied up the apartment a bit. For the first time in the year since they’d met, Neal’s hand around her waist felt foreign to her and she discreetly attempted to pull away, to which Neal held on to her even tighter.
    â€œHow can we help you, officers?” Neal asked, in his most charming voice.
    There were two young officers; one black and one white. The white officer spoke. “Do you mind if we come in?”
    â€œOf course not,” Damita said nervously as she moved aside to allow them entry.
    She could feel Neal’s grip tighten around her