Wrath

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  I was shocked; I saw nothing. With the way he’d held me, with the way I couldn’t breathe, with the way he stared into my eyes even as it felt as if I was beginning to separate from my body… I closed my eyes, never wanting to remember that. I was going to have to exorcise that memory from my consciousness.

  Feeling as if my strength was back, I rushed into the bedroom’s closet. I had yet to unpack half of my clothes, and I wondered what was best for me to take. Enough for a week, at least. By then, I’d muster the courage to tell someone in my life, who’d return with me to get the rest of my things. Someone who wouldn’t walk into this condo and kill Xavier.

  I tossed my garment bag and then a roller bag onto the bed, ignoring the wheels on the white duvet. I was a meticulous packer, but it was hard to think with all that was in my head. As I tossed clothes into the suitcase, the image of Xavier’s face as he choked me had been replaced with the voice of my mother, words that she’d spoken to me over the years:

  Never give up on anybody. Miracles happen every day.

  “I’m not giving up on Xavier,” I said as if my mother were here watching me pack. “He’s given up on me. There’s no way he can love me with the way he put his hands on me.”

  No one is perfect; we can only strive to do better today than yesterday.

  “That’s the problem; Xavier’s todays are becoming worse than his yesterdays. His rage is escalating, so what will his tomorrow look like?”

  When you give people room to be human, you have to give them the same space to make human mistakes. That’s what grace is all about.

  “Choking me was not a mistake, it was an assault.”

  It felt as if she were standing above me, looking down with admonishment as she quoted part of her favorite scripture: Mercy triumphs over judgment.

  But the scripture that had given her the strength to stay with my father wasn’t enough for me to do the same.

  Finally, I tossed my bathrobe into the suitcase before I slid into leggings and a sweatshirt. It wasn’t until I zipped the luggage, wrapped myself in my coat, lugged the bags to the front, and opened my Uber app that I realized I didn’t have anyplace to go.

  It was because I had to sit, do a search for hotels, then make reservations that so much time passed. When I heard the key in the door’s lock, I jumped up, trembling before I even saw his face.

  Where was the knife? I’d left it… in the bathroom? The bedroom? I never considered what I’d do in this moment. Now all I had was a garment bag and an overpacked suitcase to defend myself. But I was going to fight. No matter what.

  He stepped into the apartment and paused, his eyes on my luggage, while my eyes focused on him. Even the flowers in his hands didn’t distract me. I kept my eyes on his hands.

  “Chastity.”

  He said my name the way he always did, like he was singing a love song.

  I gripped the suitcase’s handle.

  “Baby.”

  He took a few steps toward me, and I took a couple of steps back, which didn’t make sense. I needed to be heading toward my getaway.

  “Are you all right?”

  His words made me stop, made me tilt my head. “Is that a real question?”

  He frowned, not understanding.

  “How can I be all right?” Then I broke it down for him. “You just tried to kill me.”

  His eyes widened as large as the windows. “No, baby. That’s not what happened.” As he spoke, his hands jabbed through the air with each syllable, and I watched every move.

  “What did you think would happen when you wrapped your hand around my throat and squeezed?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He continued his protest. “That’s not what happened. I didn’t squeeze.”

  Now I was the one standing there with wide eyes. “Do you hear yourself, Xavier? You just grabbed my throat, pushed me against the wall, but you didn’t squeeze?” Lifting the garment bag and then grabbing the handle of the suitcase, I squared off in front of him. “I’m leaving.”

  “You can’t leave me, baby.” His desperation was beyond his tone, it was in his countenance and the slump of his head and shoulders. “I love you.”

  When he took a step closer, I held up my hand. “If you touch me, I will call the police.” It was a threat without a follow-through. There was no way I wanted this to escalate; the stakes were too high for Xavier, on the eve of his partnership, and for me—this was not publicity my father needed.

  “Chastity, I can’t lose you.” His voice shook the way my body trembled. “I’m so sorry, but you kept pushing, you kept talking, and I needed time and space and…” He collapsed onto the sofa. His shoulders heaved as he covered his face.

  Still, I watched his hands.

  “There’s just so much going on. You don’t even know,” he kept muttering.

  Of course something had been going on with Xavier. He’d hardly been sleeping. Although I’d noticed it a few days ago, I’d waited for this morning, thinking the weekend was a better time to talk. That was all I’d wanted before he tried to choke my life out of me.

  “It’s been so hard, Chastity.”

  Mercy triumphs over judgment. I said, “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to help.”

  He nodded, glanced up, and took in the sight of me with the garment bag wrapped over my arm, my suitcase by my side. He blinked, like he was fighting every emotion. I saw his thoughts—another person walking away, abandoning him.

  Mercy triumphs over judgment. I lowered the garment bag to the sofa, but I stood, my hand gripping my suitcase.

  His hands were still clasped in front of his face. “It’s been bad, baby.”

  His expression made my heart beat double-time. What had he done? Pushing the garment bag aside, I eased down onto the sofa.

  Xavier’s shoulders relaxed a bit when I sat. “I’ve worked so hard, and now my career…”

  When he stopped, I asked, “What?”

  It took him a moment to say, “No one has mentioned me becoming a partner.” Without taking a breath, he went on to tell me how he’d planned, how he’d worked so hard, how he’d just brought in the largest settlement—all facts I knew, but things he needed to share. So I listened.

  Even though I heard his torment, I was relieved. This was something we could handle.

  “To them, I’m nothing more than a poor kid from Mississippi,” he finished.

  “It can’t be that, Xavier. What would they know about that time in your life, and if they knew something, why would they hold that against you? If anything, you would be their greatest success story.”

  “What else can it be?”

  That was a question I couldn’t answer, and truly, I wanted to help Xavier, to talk this through. But all I could do was watch his hands. There was no way I could sit here and have this discussion with his hands being my focus. “I understand how upset you are, and I want to help, but…” I paused so the next words would stand alone. “But we have to talk about how you assaulted me.”

  He dropped his hands and faced me. “That’s not what I meant to do.”

  It took a moment for me to ingest, then digest his words. I nodded. “I believe that. I believe you didn’t wake up this morning planning to choke me.” When he parted his lips, I held up my hand. “But you did.”

  “I’m sorry” was all he had.

  “And you did it because you were mad. Xavier, we’ve talked about this. We’ve talked about your rage, and it’s getting worse.”

  “That’s not what it is. It’s just this stress,” he said. I could tell he was still battling his emotions.

  “And living with this stress is called adulting. Things happen in life, and we handle them. But you… don’t know how.”

  “It was just this one time.”

  Was he serious? Did he not remember what he’d done? “It wasn’t just this time. It’s now been four times with me, and now I wonder, have you been this way with anyone else?”

  “No!” He said it so instantly, s
o emphatically, I believed him.

  “Then it’s me.”

  He frowned and his voice was lower when he asked, “What?”

  “There’s something about me that brings out the worst in you.”

  He paused as if he was thinking about my words, or maybe he was thinking about his. “That’s not true.”

  “It has to be. You’re telling me none of this has ever happened with anyone else.” I touched my neck, swallowed, then said, “So something is happening where this isn’t working between us.”

  “No!” He faced me, and when he reached for my hands, I pulled back. Still, he kept on. “Chastity, this is not about you and me. We’re perfect.”

  Now I was the one to shake my head.

  He continued, “This is just about what I’m going through.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel good. Because there will be other issues in life. Especially in our careers. And you talk about going into politics? Every day something will happen outside of our house, but you will come home and take it out on me. I’m never going to be a woman who stands for that.”

  “I wouldn’t. I won’t.” His tone was filled with his sincerity. “I’m telling you, Chastity, from my heart, this won’t happen again.” When I just sat there, he said, “I’ll do anything to prove it to you.”

  My next words were instant. “Go to counseling. I want us to go to counseling.”

  He didn’t hesitate either. “Okay. Definitely.”

  I was surprised; I’d expected at least a little protest. “You mean that?”

  “Yes!” This time, when he reached for my hands, I didn’t jerk away. He said, “I love you and I’ll do anything to fix this. I would die if you walked out that door.”

  “And I don’t want to die because I stayed.”

  “No!” He sounded as if that thought frightened him. “Baby, I would never…”

  His vibrating cell made us glance at the phone next to the flowers he’d laid on the table. We probably frowned at the same time when JACKSON STEYER flashed across the screen.

  “Babe…”

  I nodded. “Go ahead and take it. If he’s calling, it’s important.”

  Xavier stood, and as he paced, I listened to his greetings with the senior partner. By the way Xavier kept saying thank you, Mr. Steyer was once again congratulating him. But then the conversation shifted.

  “Ah, yes, sir, it’s true,” Xavier said and glanced at me. “I got married a few months ago.” He paused. “Yes,” he said, as if something Mr. Steyer said surprised him. “Yes, you remembered correctly. Chastity.” Another pause. “Thank you so much. I’m more than lucky, I’m blessed.” Only a couple of seconds had passed when Xavier’s face brightened with a smile I hadn’t seen in weeks. “That would be wonderful,” Xavier said. “I have to check with my wife, but I’m sure we’ll be there.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Thank you, and yes, we do have much to talk about. Thank you again.”

  When he hung up, Xavier stood, staring at his phone.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Baby, it’s better than okay,” he whispered. He turned to me with that half smile, and even though just hours before he’d choked me, that smile still warmed me. “Mr. Steyer just invited us for drinks at his home next Saturday before the firm’s Christmas party.”

  “Wow,” I said, and then held back, wanting Xavier to tell me what this meant.

  “He said every year he invites someone for a preparty celebration, and this year, he wants it to be me and my lovely wife.” He paused, inhaled, and then, as he spoke the next words, his voice was filled with excitement. “He said we have lots to talk about.”

  His relief was so visible, almost palpable, and now I smiled with him.

  “Baby,” he said as he dropped the phone onto the table, then knelt in front of me. “This is it.”

  I nodded. “I think it may be.”

  “No ‘maybe’ about it. This is happening because of you.” He took my hands into his. “I am so sorry. The thought that I hurt you, hurts me, and I can’t wait to go to counseling to make sure this never happens again. Just please don’t leave me. I love you.”

  He rested his head in my lap, repeating, “I love you,” as if it were a mantra meant to lull me into surrender. I had no doubt Xavier loved me. Love wasn’t our problem.

  But if he was willing to get help, and if he was on the verge of receiving the career prize that he’d worked so hard for…

  Mercy triumphs over judgment.

  With that thought, I raised my arms and held my husband.

  I was going to stay because I wanted to. I had to. But only after taking a few precautions. I loved Xavier, but now I didn’t trust him. That made me sad, but it was the truth, and I would do what I had to do to protect myself.

  41 Xavier

  I ripped the bow tie from my collar, needing to start all over. As I studied my reflection in the mirror, I smiled. Last week, being in a battle with a bow tie would have shot me straight to the top of the Richter scale. But with this invitation from Mr. Steyer, all my stress was gone.

  How had I allowed my mind to go to those dark places? I’d wasted a lot of time, had been filled with too much anxiety—for nothing. And where had that pressure taken me? My hand… her throat.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting that memory. As I tried to adjust my bow tie, I did the same with my thoughts, keeping my focus on the night ahead. Tonight, I’d receive the invitation to become a partner at one of the nation’s most respected law firms. From there, not even the sky would limit me.

  “Here,” Chasity said, slipping between me and the mirror. With just a couple of nips and tucks, she had my tie right. With a smile, she whispered, “It’s perfect now,” then she tapped my lips with a kiss before she stepped away.

  Chastity held up the hem of her red gown as she sat on the chaise to slip into her shoes, and as I watched, I once again thanked God for this woman. What she’d just said—It’s perfect now—was about more than my tie. It was about the last week, seven days of bliss, the best time of our young marriage. It had been filled with family (a dinner with her parents where her mother announced our reception would be February 14 to celebrate our love and our birthdays) and fun, where Chastity, after a long day of work, even joined me one evening at Sweat Box. And then when we came together at night… this last week of loving my wife had been the best I’d ever had.

  But while the memories brought a smile to my lips, the ache in my heart was just as real. My effort came not just because I loved her, but because of what I done. My hand… her throat.

  Stop! That was behind me. Not only because the pressure was gone but because I was going to learn how to restrain the fury that raged within me. I’d called Dr. Escobar, though this time I hadn’t been able to see her immediately. Her first available appointment was two weeks out, but Chastity and I would be there. Because I was more than serious—I was committed.

  A tap on my shoulder startled me.

  “A million pennies for your thoughts,” Chastity said when I turned to her.

  Her words warmed me, took me back to our beginning, and I pulled her close. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  She nodded. “This I know for sure.”

  Then in my mind, it flashed again: my hand… her throat. I inhaled. “Chastity, I just want you to know I’m so—”

  She covered my lips with hers in a gentle kiss, her response to my unspoken apology. She was a woman of grace, just like she’d promised she’d be on our wedding night.

  What I needed to do now was become the man who deserved Chastity. And tonight would be that beginning.

  I hated to break our embrace, but I said, “We’d better get going.”

  “Let me touch up my lipstick, and then I’ll be ready.”

  On the nightstand, her cell vibrated, and when she took a quick glance and frowned, I asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yeah”—she waved her hand—“it’s just Mel
anie.”

  I watched her tap out a message, then she grinned. “You know what? I’m ready to get this party started. I’ll take care of my lips in the car.”

  “Or I’ll take care of your lips for you,” I said.

  “Promises, promises,” she said as she sashayed in front of me. I always loved seeing my wife come toward me, but watching her walk away… I needed to loosen my tie because she was doing it again. Oh, how I couldn’t wait to get back here. With this woman, with what was about to happen at the Steyer home, tonight was going to be epic.

  * * *

  ALTHOUGH JACKSON HAD taken a liking to me from our first interview, I’d never been invited to his home. I did know, however, that a few years ago, he’d moved to the tallest residential building in the world, right on Park Avenue.

  When the Uber rolled to a stop beneath the glass canopy and then the doorman opened the doors leading to the granite floor lobby, I knew Jackson Steyer was on a whole different level of luxury. Once the concierge announced us, the elevator swooped us up to the fiftieth floor. When we stepped off, there were only two apartments, and the door opened before we even had a chance to ring the bell.

  “Welcome to my home, Mr. and Mrs. King.” Mr. Steyer gestured for us to enter, and once we did, it was a visual extravaganza.

  Everything about the expansive open space, which had two seating areas as well as a ten-person dining table, was magnificent. The cream-colored decor on the oak floors made the space luxurious enough, but the ten-foot windows along two walls were all drama.

  “Oh my goodness,” Chastity said. “Your home is beautiful, Mr. Steyer.”

  “Thank you,” he said, “but two things. First, I cannot take any credit for this place; this all belongs to my beautiful wife.” Then he held out his hand and, as if they’d practiced this, Mrs. Steyer entered.

  I’d met the quite-a-bit-younger Mrs. Steyer at a couple of office events, and tonight, as she stood next to her husband in a very fitted, shocking-pink gown, she appeared even more youthful than her fiftysomething years.