Denise Huskins - Victim F: From Crime Victims to Suspects to Survivors

I almost didnt come over to Aarons house that night.

Would it have changed anything if I hadnt? Or would it have just happened a different night? Were we destined to go through what we did?

Aaron and I are meant for each other; of that, I have no doubt. But does that mean I had to endure the unimaginable, to experience trauma that no one should have to live through, for us to be together? Are the two so intertwined that one cannot exist without the other? I dont know. What I do know is, I would never take it back, not if it meant I would have to live my life without him.

We first met in June 2014 when I moved to Northern California for a nine-month physical therapy residency at the Kaiser hospital in Vallejo. Its a world-renowned program, with physical therapists from across the globe coming to learn a specialized-treatment approach for patients with severe neurological disorders or those with brain or spinal cord injuries. Aaron was a physical therapist working in the same department and taught a couple of classes for the program.

I was initially drawn to his intelligence, the way he made complex topics easy to understand, but he also had this artistic, intuitive, healing way about him when he worked with patients that seemed almost mystical.

I ran into Aaron at some social gatherings in the coming weeks, and we always ended up talking a lot, first about sports, where we grew up, our families, but quickly easing into deeper discussions about our love for our chosen profession, our passion to be the best we can, and our goals for the future. We had an instant connection and chemistry that surprised me. I hadnt felt anything quite like that before. However, I didnt get my hopes up. I knew he was involved with someone we worked with.

In the next couple of weeks, Aaron told me he and this woman, Jennifer Jones, had been engaged but had broken up months before because she had had an affair. They still lived together, but hed moved to one of the spare bedrooms while he sorted out his feelings.

We were both hesitant to start dating because of all this and because we all worked together, but Aaron and I couldnt resist each other and quickly fell in love. At the end of August, Jennifer moved out, and for the next seven months of the residency, Aaron and I spent almost every day together. I could see how much pain he was in, and I was often his sounding board, listening as he talked through the complicated situation. We decided to take a break several times so he could process his feelings, but we missed each other so much that it never lasted more than a day or two.

This latest break had been our longest separation. I hadnt seen him since last Monday, nearly a week. I was always scared he would get back with his ex, and my fears had been confirmed at the end of February when I discovered he was still pursuing Jennifer and had been lying to me about it for months. I was absolutely devastated and wasnt sure if he could fully let her go or if I could forgive him. Hed been going to therapy and making changes to show me it was me he wanted, and he was over her, but I was still reluctant to go over to his house, the one hed shared with her for two years. There were too many memories there.

I tried to explain this to him via text when he asked me to come over to talk. I told him I missed him and was willing to hear him out, but I didnt want to fall right back into the same old pattern. He needed to court me and be consistent with his actions. I needed time. He said he understood, but he knew this would be a long and difficult conversation and felt it would be better to have it in the privacy of his own home.

We made plans to go out to dinner somewhere on a real date. But at the last minute, I told him I would come over. He was right. I knew it would be an emotional talk and not one we should have in public. I told him Id pick up a pie from Napolis, our favorite pizza place.

I pulled into the long driveway of Aarons beautiful Colonial-style home around 5:30 p.m. on Sunday. I was wearing a long cotton sundress, which was both comfortable and flattering. I wanted to look my best when we talked, but I also knew we would be lounging around at home, so I found something that accentuated my curves without looking like I was trying too hard. These seem like trivial considerations now, but I wanted to feel good about myself going into this crucial talk. Id brought my work and overnight bags with me in case things went well, though. I still loved him, and I was hoping I could forgive him.