Supernova

by Kate Stacy

  “You did hear a third shot, Madalyn. But he didn’t miss,” Officer Morris says.

  Madalyn and I look at him in confusion. Suddenly it hits me, right as Officer Bartlett starts to explain.

  Was. They asked if David was her husband.

  “The third gunshot was self-inflicted. David did not survive.”

  Madalyn covers her mouth as she gasps. “Oh my God! He killed himself?”

  Her question is confirmed with a nod from both officers.

  Madalyn lets out a choked sob and breaks down in tears. There’s no getting through to her, so the police officers give me a card and let me know we can contact them if we have any questions. I take it and watch as they leave, trying to hold back my frustration.

  Why is she crying? Is she upset that he’s dead? Hell, I’m upset that he’s dead, but only because I can't kill the motherfucker myself.

  Rather than torture myself thinking the worst, I decide to see if she’ll talk to me.

  Gripping her chin, I hold her face in my trembling hand and search the depths of her eyes.

  “Mads, baby. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Why are you crying?”

  “He’s gone, Jaxson.”

  I almost get angry, but I bite it back.

  “Gonna have to give me a bit more than that, baby.”

  “He can never hurt me again. I’m finally free.” Her tone borders on disbelief, but her tears slow, and a small smile appears on her lips. “I have nothing left to fear.”

  “So, you’re not sad?” I ask, wanting absolute clarity.

  “Sad? God no, Jaxson. I’m relieved.”

  She’s not the only one.

  “Maybe I should be upset...because I loved David once, but...the man I married wasn’t the same man that cared for me when I left Blackwood. That man was replaced with a monster and I can’t bring myself to be sad that he’s gone. All he ever did was cause me pain.”

  It hurts to hear her say that she loved him, but I push it aside. It’s all in the past and there’s nothing we can do to change any of it. Maybe it’s fucked up, but I’m relieved that she doesn’t count him as another loss to mourn. She has enough grieving and healing to do without that asshole taking up her headspace.

  “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby,” I say, pulling her against my chest.

  This is the most open she’s been since admitting the truth to Holden. Hopefully once we leave the hospital, she’ll agree to talk to a therapist. The signs of improvement are there, but she’s been through too much. She may be okay in this moment, but it’s only one of many. She’s gonna need a lot of love and support to get through this.

  Luckily, she’s got a lot of people ready to give her just that.

  Discharge papers in hand, Madalyn sits as comfortably as possible in a wheelchair, waiting to be wheeled out of the hospital. It’s been a week since she was brought in—beaten and barely alive—and now she finally gets to go home.

  A nurse waits off to the side, ready to escort Madalyn outside.

  The entire family is here to see her home, but everyone has a different opinion on where “home” should be. Madalyn has already explained that she has no desire to go to the house she shared with David. She wants nothing to do with it and I can’t say I blame her. She also doesn’t want to go back to Holden’s apartment. I doubt she’ll ever step foot in there again. Although, from what Holden says, he hasn’t even been back except to pack a bag, either. He’s been staying with their parents and is looking for somewhere else to live.

  None of us are truly okay after what happened. The reality of it, the fear of losing Madalyn. Everyone that loves her is traumatized from the experience. Holden and I are the only ones that saw her before surgery, but I saw the most. I still can’t close my eyes without seeing her bloody, battered body as the paramedics fought to keep her alive. The sound of the heart monitor flatlining haunts my dreams.

  While almost every single member of the Sterling family discusses where Madalyn should go, and all the reasons their home would be best suited...I watch Madalyn. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t offer an opinion. It’s Grams who finally speaks up.

  “Madalyn is a grown woman with her own mind. Why don’t we let her decide where she wants to go?” There’s a twinkle in the old woman’s eyes, as if she knows some secret the rest of us aren’t privy to.

  Everyone stops talking and turns to Madalyn, waiting for her to say something.

  She looks around at her family and for the first time in a long time, a full-blown, genuine smile crosses her face. It’s a beautiful fucking sight.

  “You all know I love you, and I appreciate everything you’ve all done for me, but there’s only one place I want to go. One place I know I’ll feel at home…”

  Everyone waits with bated breath for her to continue.

  “I’m going home with Jaxson.”

  “I...what?” I ask, completely surprised that out of everyone—she chose me.

  Her family watches with curious eyes as I walk to her and kneel at her feet.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, watching her eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

  “Positive.”

  No way in hell will I deny her. She can have whatever her heart desires.

  “As you wish, baby.” I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Let’s get you home.”

  It’s been a week since I was released from the hospital and I still don’t regret my decision to come home with Jaxson. At the time, I didn’t know that he had moved out of the apartment we used to share. I guess it’s to be expected, but part of me was hoping to be in that familiar space surrounded by memories of happier times.

  I was surprised to learn that he bought a house almost a year ago.

  I fell in love immediately when I saw the beautiful old house. It’s something I could have pictured back when I had hopes and dreams of spending my life with him. That’s something I’ve kept to myself.

  It’s an old farmhouse, but Jaxson has updated and renovated almost everything. He managed to modernize the house, but still keep the original charm. With three bedrooms and two bathrooms, it’s far too large for him alone. Simple curiosity drove me to ask him why he bought such a big house, but he dodged the question.

  The relationship between me and Jaxson is complicated.

  Sometimes, it feels like we were never apart. But then one of us remembers everything that’s happened and things between us end up strained. There are too many unanswered questions. Too many unspoken words. Too many secrets and lies. One day we’ll need to clear the air between us. It has to happen or else neither one of us will ever be able to move forward. One day soon we’ll talk, but today is not that day.

  Today, my babysitters are trying to coax me out of my shell, and out of the house. My sisters mean well, but they don’t understand. They can’t possibly understand the chaos inside my head, the twisted and tangled emotions that plague me every minute of every day.

  Some days are better than others, but it’s hard to sort through the shit in my head when I never get a minute alone. Someone is always here. Always hovering. Always watching with sympathetic eyes. Today it’s my sisters, yesterday was Hailee, the day before it was my parents. Hell, even Jaxson’s best friend Drake has been by. And Holden practically lives here.

  We’re all a little fucked up after surviving my nightmare.

  David almost killed me and I’m lucky to be alive. I know that’s not easy for my family and friends. I’m not ignorant. I know they suffered too. One man turned everyone’s world upside down and it’s going to take time for life to feel right again. I know they mean well. They want to help, and I love them for it, but having someone by my side all the time...it gets overwhelming.

  They’re suffocating me, and right now all I need is a little time to breathe.

  So, no. I’m not interested in a day out shopping. I have zero desire to go to the salon. Maybe soon, but not today. Besides, I have a scheduled phone call with Audra—the therapist I saw when I w
as away at school—that I cannot miss. I haven’t told anyone I contacted her, but I know that this isn’t a battle I can fight alone. I’m going to need the love and support my family and friends have been providing, but they have to allow me to do things on my terms, to heal in my own way.

  David did more damage than I could have ever imagined. He left scars that will never heal. Stole things from me that I can never get back. Took pieces of me that weren’t his to have.

  No more.

  I will not allow him to take anything more from me.

  David stood before me with a gun pointed at my unborn child with intent to kill both of us. Had he succeeded, he would have broken the hearts of everyone I love. He failed.

  But something happened in that moment. When I stared down the barrel of that gun, something inside of me raged. Almost as if a switch was flipped, the fear sparked a flame burning hot and bright. A tiny ember that grew bigger and came to life. And with that spark came a realization.

  I’m stronger than the weak woman I became with him.

  I’m a fucking fighter.

  I may have weak moments, but I am not weak.

  I may be a little bent, but I am not broken.

  I will face my demons, battle my depression, and find the happy ending that I deserve.

  I’m a fucking survivor.

  The conversation with my therapist was eye-opening.

  Audra was thrilled with the progress I’ve been able to make on my own. She was impressed with my survivor mentality and my ability to admit that I can’t do this alone. I’ve come a long way since she talked to me last, though I’ve been through so much more.

  I’ve been through hell and back, but I came out stronger.

  Like before, Audra encourages me to open up to someone other than her. Unlike before, this time I’m actually listening. It’s not healthy to keep everything inside, and while she’s there to support me in a professional capacity, it’s important that I allow others to support me as well. In order to truly heal, I have to let someone in.

  Jaxson is that someone. Even when I denied it and pushed him away, he has always been my someone. Even when I lied to him, and to myself.

  It will always be him.

  It’s going to be a hard conversation to have, but a necessary one.

  If there’s any hope for a happy future, I have to open up about my past.

  Jaxson made sure to clear the house tonight.

  Ignoring all protests, he assured my family that I’m in good hands and told them I needed a break. Now the two of us are alone and about to have an extremely difficult conversation.

  I haven’t told anyone the details of David’s abuse. Sure, they have a general idea of what I dealt with for the two years we were married, but the reality is much worse. Honestly, I’m lucky to bear only few physical scars from my time in hell. Most of my scars are mental, but those are the ones more difficult to live with.

  I meet Jaxson outside when the sun goes down, where despite the muggy summer air, he has a fire going in the fire pit. On the table—between two big, cushioned patio chairs—is a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

  Alcohol isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, I know, but it’ll sure as hell make this conversation a little easier.

  Moving slowly, I take a seat in one of the chairs and make myself as comfortable as possible. I’m still sore from my injuries and will be for some time, although I’ve stopped taking the pain medication Dr. Richardson prescribed because I don’t like the way it makes me feel.

  Jaxson sits in the other chair, close enough if I need him, but keeping enough distance between the two of us to give me space. He always knows exactly what I need.

  Several minutes pass before he breaks the silence.

  “Mads…” he starts, running his hand over his hair. “I know you want to talk, and I’ll sit here and listen silently if that’s what you need. I already know that this won’t be easy for you to talk about, or easy for me to hear, but I want you to know that no matter what...I love you. Nothing you say is going to change that.”

  I nod, giving him a soft smile. A huge part of me wants to say it back, because I do. Even after all this time. Even through the mess of emotions and feelings I have to wade through. My love for Jaxson is absolute. I never stopped loving him. I only lied to myself, foolishly thinking I could live my life without him. And that...that is one of my biggest regrets.

  But tonight isn’t about me and Jaxson. Tonight is about the physical, verbal, and emotional abuse I suffered at the hands of a sociopath.

  I don’t know yet what the future holds for me and Jaxson, but I know that we absolutely cannot move forward unless he knows the truth.

  Closing my eyes for a minute, I take several deep breaths to compose myself. When I open them again, I find his brilliant hazel eyes watching me with so much love.

  “I didn’t realize it at the time, but it all started on our wedding night. David was...rougher than he’d ever been. More demanding. More...dominant.”

  Glancing at Jaxson, I see the tightness in his face that he’s trying too hard to hide. The tick in his tightly clenched jaw. He says nothing, only waits for me to continue.

  “It wasn’t a slow build-up after that. The first week, while we were still at the B and B, was good, but once we were home...it’s like someone flipped a switch. I didn’t recognize him anymore. The first time he hit me…” I sigh, trying to keep my composure.

  “The first time was about a week after we moved into our house. He was working and came home frantic and angry. Apparently, he’d been calling, but I didn’t hear my phone over the music. I had it loud while I cleaned and unpacked.” —Jax nods, likely remembering when we moved into our apartment— “He...um...he accused me of cheating. Said I ignored his calls because I was too busy ‘spreading my legs for the bartender.’”

  I scoff, remembering how ridiculous he sounded. “He wouldn’t listen to reason. Nothing I said mattered. I tried walking away to avoid the argument, but he grabbed my arm, eventually throwing me to the floor. I tried to tell him, tried to convince him of the truth, but the force of his hand across my face silenced me quickly. I was so fucking shocked. I couldn’t believe it actually happened.”

  Twisting the lid from the bottle of tequila, I pour a shot and down it quickly. I savor the warm burn from the alcohol and pick up where I left off.

  “He looked surprised, too.” I say, remembering the confused look in his eyes. “He looked at his hand like it had betrayed him. I could see the regret in his eyes, but I didn’t care. He immediately tried to apologize, but no amount of words could take back the fact that he hit me. I ran away from him. Locked myself in the bedroom. He never came after me. He eventually left. I still don’t know where he went that night. I never asked. Didn’t seem to matter in the grand scheme of things, but I guess I’ll never know.”

  I shrug, tipping back another shot as I hear Jaxson murmur.

  “Fucking, Christ.”

  I remember that fucking night.

  That was the first night he came into the bar without Madalyn. The night he grabbed Zoey and threatened me. The first time I really got a bad vibe from him telling me something wasn’t right. If only I would have told her what happened then. Maybe things would have been different.

  I tell her as much after giving her the details of everything that happened at the bar that night, but she balks at my statement.

  “I wouldn’t have listened, Jax. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I was too stubborn to listen, too stuck in my head. Stupidly blinded by my conviction that everything I was doing was the best for everyone.”

  The small smile she gives me provides no comfort.

  Guess we all have our own regrets, our own demons to battle.

  A few minutes pass in silence before Madalyn speaks again.

  “I knew I should have left after that first time, but I stupidly thought it wouldn’t happen again. The entire week after he was the guy from before. He apologized, repeate
dly. Eventually, I passed it off as a one-time thing—a mistake. And that was my mistake. I was so damn naive.”

  “Mads...you trusted him, baby. You couldn’t have known.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge my words.

  “Looking back...I recognize the signs. Things I passed off as me overthinking, or things I didn’t think were a big deal. The sudden shifts in personality and cryptic comments. His sudden need to claim me and treat me like his possession. God, I was so fucking blind.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to make sense of the bits and pieces she’s giving me.

  “It all goes back to our wedding night. He kept saying he owned me. Every inch of me. He took me everywhere, Jax.”

  I flinch, knowing exactly what she means. She’s not trying to hurt me, but it doesn’t lessen the burn to hear about him fucking her. Claiming her and treating her like a whore. It doesn’t hurt less knowing she let him. My grip on my beer bottle is so tight I’m surprised the glass hasn’t shattered.

  Thankfully, she doesn’t notice my reaction. She’s too lost in remembering.

  “And then he asked me how it felt knowing that he had all of me. How it felt knowing that no other man would touch my body again.”

  Christ. If he was still alive, I’d kill him myself. I wouldn’t even feel bad about it. I wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep knowing I put that motherfucker six feet under.

  “I woke up later that night. He was sitting in the corner in the dark...just...watching me. I thought I saw something in his eyes—something that made me uncomfortable—but I ignored it,” she says, closing her eyes to blink back tears. “I can still hear the words he uttered as I drifted back to sleep. ‘I’m never, ever letting you go.’”

  A shiver runs through her body, and I can see the goosebumps raised on her arms.

  “I thought it was sweet at the time. Now, I recognize it for what it was.”

  “A threat?”