Shattered Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 1)

by Heather Guimond

  “I wasn’t ready, Bob. Things had been so wonderful between us, it took a long time for me to give up hope that they would eventually go back to the way they had been. I kept making excuses for him; it wasn’t him, it was just stress from his job that was making him act this way, once the deal he was working on was over, things would go back to normal. Then, if I could get him away from that firm, everything would be fine. You know how it goes. It’s always some external influence, rather than something wrong with the individual. Turns out, this is just him. He was on his best behavior the first year of our marriage, I guess. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive. I should have listened to the little voice in my head that told me to slow down and get to know him better rather than rushing into things like I did. Live and learn, as they say,” I finish while tenaciously clinging to my composure. I’m doing my best to present a strong front and be as matter of fact as possible, but inside I am falling apart as I finally admit to the nightmare my marriage has become.

  “What are you going to do now?” he asks gently.

  “The very first thing I want to do is file for a temporary protection order and a temporary restraining order. I don’t want him anywhere near me or to be able to contact me. He already called me after midnight several times last night. In fact, he called for more than an hour, over and over. I came to see if you could refer me to a good family practice,” I say, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.

  “Sure. I know a couple of great people that will do right by you. Do you also want to begin divorce proceedings or file for a legal separation?”

  “I hadn’t given that any thought yet,” I say, refusing to allow myself to break down. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I know I probably shouldn’t give myself any opportunity for second thoughts, but I really need time to think about it, to come to terms with it. I’ll be doing it sooner rather than later, but I just have to wrap my mind around it.”

  “I understand completely, Mimi. It’s not something you can be hasty about. You made a lifetime commitment, and even though things have broken down beyond repair at this point, since in my opinion physical violence is, and should be, a deal breaker for everyone, making the decision to break that commitment should be made solemnly and in one’s own time,” he says with more compassion than I could ever expect from anyone.

  Fresh tears fill my eyes with gratitude for this man I have come to love in a very fatherly way. I knew I could count on him.

  “So, aside from the referral, what can we do for you? Obviously, you’re going to need some time off to get into an apartment or some other place to live right away. You let me know how long. I’ll arrange to have a temp brought in to cover your job while you’re out. Steve will miss you, but once I fill him in, he’ll understand. Do you need any money to cover the expenses of getting a new place?”

  “Thanks for the time off. That’s all I really need. I have enough for a place and movers to get me there. All of the stuff I had from before I got married is still in storage, I never got rid of it,” I say, running a trembling hand through my hair, my voice not as strong as it had been when I first walked in.

  “Well don’t hesitate to ask if any surprise expenses pop up.”

  I nod, as he writes down the names of three top-notch family practice attorneys that can help me with obtaining temporary restraining and protection orders.

  After meeting with the first lawyer who could see me that day, providing a statement and printing out copies of all the pictures of my injuries, I am assured that the proper paperwork will be filed with the court that afternoon and Vance will be served before the end of the business day. Once I’m back out in the car, I sit for a while tapping my index finger against the steering wheel trying to decide what to do next. Do I go back to the house and pack my things? Do I go apartment hunting? It’s almost noon and Vance should be at work. I look down at my clothes and flip flops. They still look relatively clean, but probably not the best presentation for trying to convince someone to rent to me. That makes the decision for me.

  Just to be on the safe side, I call the house phone to make sure Vance didn’t decide to work from home for whatever reason. I let it ring ten times, but there’s no answer. I feel reasonably safe that I can get in and out without running into him, so I start up the car and point it in the direction of our house.

  As I arrive, I notice his car is nowhere in sight. Exhaling a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding, I pull in the drive and hustle into the house. I waste no time dashing to the bedroom and dragging out the designer suitcases Vance had bought for me as a gift before one of our trips shortly after we were married. I throw them on the bed and begin emptying my drawers into them, not caring about making sure anything is folded or not. I grab everything from the closet and do the same. I dump the contents of my jewelry box on top of the clothes and zip them up as fast as I can. I grab the small valise from the closet and rush into the bathroom, grabbing all my personal products and make-up, and likewise dump them inside. The sides of the case bulge from all of the items I’ve stuffed inside, but I manage to get it zipped up anyway. I return to the bags and hook the valise over the telescopic handle of one the suitcases. Pulling both cases behind me, I take one last look around the room. My eyes land on a photo of Vance and me from our wedding. We both look so happy, Vance is looking directly at the camera, smiling that wide, beaming smile that used to give me butterflies every time he turned it on me. I’m turned slightly into his side, looking down, my eyes hooded with a soft, dreamy look on my face. Impulsively, I grab the frame and open one of the suitcases and stuff it in. I just can’t let go of every single memory I have. There was a time when we were blissfully happy, and this photo captures one of the happiest of those moments. Tears prickle my eyes, but I blink them away and resume my trek out of the house, bags in tow. I toss them in the back of my SUV and scurry into the driver’s seat as fast as I can. If I left anything else behind, it can be replaced or returned to me later. I have the essentials, and that’s all I need for now.

  Just as I’m about to back out, Vance’s car swings into the driveway. He jumps out of his car, leaving his door open and runs to the side of my car, knocking frantically on the window. I don’t think there’s been enough time for the papers to have been filed, let alone for him to have been served already, so there wouldn’t be much point in calling the police unless he tries to harm me again.

  I watch his face as his fist raps against my window. He looks panicked, his eyes scared and nervous. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m not about to roll down my window and I know I don’t want to hear anything he wants to say. Only mildly concerned about his toes, I shift the car into reverse, look over my right shoulder and back the car down the drive and around his car. I turn into the street and drive away. In my rear view, I see that he has run after me, presumably calling out to me, but I couldn’t care less.

  A few minutes later, “Marry Me” begins to float out of my purse. I really need to change that ringtone. That song, which used to bring a smile to my face, now only drives a spike of pain through my heart. I reach over and dig my phone out of my purse. I press the button to turn it off, and it goes blissfully silent. Tossing it onto the seat next to me, I continue driving back to the hotel to drop off my luggage.

  It’s about two p.m. by the time I’m able to turn my thoughts to looking for an apartment. I contemplate putting off beginning my search until the following day, but I decide I need to keep busy. I’m familiar with the area, and know there are several large apartment communities that are fairly upscale. They would have the kind of amenities that I would want, like a secure perimeter gate and a twenty-four hour guard. Maybe even an individual unit alarm system. Unfortunately, I failed to grab my laptop in my haste to get out of the house, so I’m going to have to drive the city and find the complexes by memory hoping they have vacancies, rather than doing most of the “footwork” by phone.

  I go directly to the one I most familiar with and
can find with no difficulty. After a short conversation with the gate guard, and an I.D. check, he directs me to the leasing office. They happen to have a two-bedroom unit available. I really only need one, but I’ll take what they have. It’s located in the middle of the complex, which the agent keeps referring to as the community, and I suppose is more apt. It’s enormous and made up of several large buildings, each with three floors, with numerous units per floor. I can’t even begin to estimate how many apartments in total comprise this “community.”

  The unit itself overlooks one of the three pools on the grounds, which is nice. Definitely a better view than the parking lot. The apartment itself is spacious with gray wall to wall carpeting and stark white walls. It appears to be roomy enough to accommodate the furniture I have in storage. The kitchen is small, but is attractive with walnut cabinets, black granite countertops and a gas range. It has double-paned windows, which reduce any noise from outside, and it faces east, so it won’t catch the afternoon sun. It’s a bit of a drive to work and the traffic will be no fun, but it’s far from Vance’s house. I can definitely live here.

  I let the leasing agent know that I want it, and want to move in this weekend, if possible. She beams at me, so she must work on commission. We go back to the leasing office where we fill out the necessary paperwork and she runs my credit. After about an hour, I am in possession of the keys to my new home and am on my way back to the hotel to make arrangements with movers for Friday.

  Finally, I flop on the bed completely exhausted. I have checked all the boxes on my mental to-do list and have earned a well-deserved rest. It dawns on me that I haven’t eaten a single thing. I’ve been running all day on the pot of coffee I had this morning. I should order something from room service, but I’m really not hungry and am frankly too tired to even lift the phone to place the order. I look at my luggage and decide I will unpack some things for the rest of the week tomorrow, and fold the rest in the hope that I can keep them from getting too wrinkled, although that’s probably a lost cause. Yawning, I decide to spend one more night in my sweatshirt and leggings, and yes, my day old panties, even though that’s super nasty. I’m just too fucking tired to do anything but crawl under the covers and sleep until noon tomorrow.

  When I wake the next day, which is indeed just before noon and nearly check out time, I call the front desk again and extend my stay until Friday morning. Having accomplished all my goals the day before, I’m at a loss as to what to do with myself after I complete my unpacking and folding of my clothes. I’m still not hungry, but decide I should get out and eat something. After a quick shower, I throw my hair up into a pony tail and put on a pair of well-worn jeans and a t-shirt. I slide my feet into the one pair of sneakers I managed to grab in my packing frenzy and head out in search of food, but with no real destination in mind.

  To my surprise, I find myself sitting out in front of Justin’s house again. I hadn’t planned on coming here. Wasn’t even really thinking about anything other than the fact that it would be nice to have some company to help keep my mind off everything that’s happened, and my car pointed itself in this direction. I question the wisdom of being here, because Justin is the last person to take my mind off things. If I talk to him, the conversation is sure to center on Vance.

  Just as I’m about to put my car in drive and pull away, the front door opens and Justin comes strolling down the walkway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He comes up to the passenger window and just stands there looking at me until I roll down the window. I hang my head in shame, or defeat, or I don’t know what emotion I’m feeling.

  “You’re sitting out in front of my house again, Peaches. You got something against knocking?” he asks.

  “I don’t know what it is, Justin. Every time I come here, I always have second thoughts and think I should drive away, but before I can, you catch me.”

  “Well, you might as well come in. As you said, I’ve caught you again, and I’m assuming you’ve got something to talk about. So come in and we’ll talk.”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat. I haven’t eaten in a while, and could use a good meal.”

  His eyes narrow at me. “How long is a while?”

  I wince and say in a small voice, “Lunch, day before yesterday.”

  “I assume you have a good reason why, other than you are on some fool diet?”

  “Come with me and I’ll explain everything,” I promise.

  Justin locks up his house then jumps in my car. “Where we going, darlin’?”

  “I was hoping you might have some ideas. I’m just hungry, but really don’t care what I eat. My appetite is a little screwy right now.”

  “Since it’s been a while since you’ve had anything to eat, we should probably go light on you. Maybe soup and a sandwich, or something like that,” he says.

  Justin directs me to a small twenty-four hour diner near his house. It looks kind of questionable to me, with its peeling wall paper and cracked red vinyl booths, but Justin assures me it will pass the health code, pointing to the A rating in the window, and insists the food is good.

  We take a booth in the back and the waitress is with us almost immediately with menus and to take our drink orders. While we’re waiting, Justin finally notices the injuries on my neck and his eyes widen.

  “What the hell happened to you, Mimi?” he says pointing at my neck.

  I look down at the table, not wanting to say what I have to say, unsure how it will affect his friendship with Vance. Maybe it isn’t fair of me to tell him. He is one of Vance’s best friends after all, and I probably shouldn’t be coming between them. But I have made a good friend of Justin, too. I don’t want to bad mouth Vance to his friend, but I need Justin to know what he did, maybe to help me make sense of all this, even though I know there is none to be had.

  Without looking up, I say softly, “Vance happened.”

  He sucks in a harsh breath and whispers angrily, “You’re shitting me.”

  I quickly look up at him with wide eyes. Does he not believe me? “No, I wouldn’t joke around about this or make it up. He got very upset with me the night before last and when I stood up to him, he attacked me.”

  “Not that it matters, but what was he upset about?” Justin asks.

  “He didn’t like the dinner I made for him,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  Just then the waitress comes with our drinks and to take our orders. Neither of us has even looked at the menu, but being that it’s a diner, I take a chance and simply order a grilled cheese and fries. Justin orders a burger and onion rings.

  “I just can’t believe it, Mimi,” he says shaking his head. “Vance isn’t that kind of guy. He has always taken care of people smaller than him, looked out for people who were vulnerable. I just can’t accept that he would hurt you.”

  I feel my stomach drop and tears prickle my eyes. Coming to Justin was definitely a mistake. Vance told me he was fiercely loyal. I should have known he’d take his side.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Justin, but I guess I understand why you don’t believe me,” I place my napkin on the table and prepare to stand.

  “Sit down, Mimi. I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I’m just shocked. I don’t want to believe it’s true, even with the evidence staring me in the face. I don’t know what’s happened to him.”

  “I guess he’s not the guy we all thought he was,” I say.

  “Now that I definitely know is not true. I have known him almost my whole life. I know exactly who Vance Ashcroft is, and this is most definitely not him. There’s something wrong. Has he been drinking heavily or something? Has he gotten into drugs?” he asks.

  “He does drink more than he used to, but I wouldn’t say he drinks heavily. I’ve never seen him use any drugs. I suppose it’s possible, since he spends so much time away from me. I always thought it was because of all the stress he’s under, but after all this time, I think it’s just who he is, Justi
n. It’s always been in him, he’s just been good at hiding it from everyone.”

  “Well, I am sure as hell going to find out. If I have to kick his ass, I’ll do it. You don’t beat on a woman for any reason, so he’s definitely got that coming to him. But I’m telling you, something is wrong and I’m going to figure it out.”

  “I hope you can, for the sake of your friendship. As for me and Vance, it’s done. I’ll never stay with a man who hurts me, and I’ll never be able to forgive him for it. I overlooked the verbal abuse for months, but he threatened to kill me.” I leave out the part where he tried to rape me. Justin doesn’t need to know the whole dirty business. “I won’t stick around waiting for that, or anything else to happen.”

  He nods in acknowledgement. “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’ve already filed for a temporary protection order and a restraining order. If he hasn’t been yet, he’ll soon be served with the paperwork. Once I get my head around it, I’ll be filing for a divorce.”

  He places both hands on the table and leans back against the seat, blowing out a breath. “I’m sorry, Mimi. I know how much you love him.”

  “Loved. How much I loved him,” I say firmly. “He killed everything I had left for him the other night.”

  Justin takes one of my hands in his over the table and just holds it. Neither of us says anything more until the food comes. Despite my lack of appetite, I manage to finish my sandwich and all of my fries. Our meal is quiet, both of us lost in thought. As we are walking out of the diner, I clear my throat a little before speaking quietly.

  “I want you to know that I have enjoyed our friendship. You have always been very nice to me, and it was good to feel a connection to one of Vance’s friends. You, more than any of the other guys, made me feel very accepted.” I look up at him with the brightest smile I can muster.