Good isn't perfect [c.e] | 18+ a Chris Evans fanfic

33 | Saving Herself

Third Person

After the night when Caroline had begged Chris for his help when he was high, he checked himself into rehab the following day. He had also hired a private investigator to try to find his sweetheart. It hadn't given any results. Yet. But he hadn't given up hope. He was going to find her no matter what.

Rehab had worked, the only motivation he had was that Caroline had texted Scarlett and asked her how he was doing. That was the first time in months that anyone had heard from her. Scarlett and Scott had been switching on who came to visit him. He had written letters to Caroline, not that she got them. He didn't have an address to send them to.

Mr. Williamsen, his investigator, spent almost two and a half months to find Caroline. According to him, she was doing fine. She owned her own pharmacy and had been working there since she had left all those months ago. He had photos of her, and Chris had demanded to see them. The moment he saw the pictures of his girlfriend, he couldn't wait to get out of rehab, so he could travel to Norway. Until he could hold Caroline in his arms.

To anyone else, Caroline looked happy, but she couldn't fool Chris. Chris saw straight through her. His first sign that she wasn't okay was that she had switched the finger where her ring sat. She always had it on her left ring finger, but now it was on her right. It was so subtle that no one would have noticed if they didn't know about the reason.

The reason was simple, she had told Chris about it once.

He had noticed that her ring was on her other hand, and he had asked her about it.

"Because," Caroline had placed her hands on his cheeks. "It reminds me that I have control of my own life. When something gets overwhelming I switch the fingers of where I wear the ring. I get so used to having it on my left ring finger, so I don't feel it, you know? So when I place it on my right finger I can feel it, and it reminds me that I'm in the present."

His second sign was a bruise on her neck. And that didn't come from a flattening iron or a curling iron. How did he know that? Caroline didn't use heat on her hair, except by blow-drying it once in a while.

*

Back in Norway, Caroline was at the police station, being questioned. She had been beaten pretty badly by her father, the damage was more than just a few bruises. She had been coughing up blood and it hurt to breathe. After she was sure that her father passed out from his drinking that night, she went straight to the emergency room; they had sent her straight to the hospital.

She had some injuries to her liver, but that would heal itself in a couple of days, a few broken rib bones, and bruises that looked worse than it was. They told her that she was lucky and asked how it had happened. She had lied and told them she fell down the stairs. The same excuse that her father had used when she was four.

They didn't believe her for one second, so she eventually told them everything. Hence why she was here at the police station, getting pictures of her injuries. Now she was answering all types of questions.

"How long has the abuse been going on?"

"I don't know. I can't remember when it started."

"Is it just him hitting you?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why he hits you?"

"Because I'm not perfect."

A nice woman had been asking her the questions. The moment a male officer had walked into the room she had backed away. He looked too much like her father. The lady officer had calmed her down and she had been easy to talk to. There were only a few questions left.