Saving Avery

by Angela Snyder

  CHAPTER 5

  MAX

  I saw Avery on the beach again last night. She cried harder than the night before, so whatever happened at home must have really been bad. The sound of her tortured sobs was like a cold, metal spike running straight through me. It was so hard to just sit and watch her and not do anything. It's not that I don't want to help her. I just don't have enough information to know the cause of her pain. Is she crying because she lost someone, or is she crying because of something being done to her? I don't know the answers, but I intend to find out.

  It's busy at the hospital for a Thursday. I'm attempting to concentrate on my work, but my mind keeps straying to Avery. She seems really off today. Every time I've tried to approach her or talk to her, she either ignores me or flashes me a grim smile. And when I tried to sit with her at lunch, she stood up and left without saying a word. We have been eating lunch together for the past couple of days and talking. Well, it's mostly me talking while she just listens and says a few words here and there. I thought we were starting to make some progress, but then she threw me for a loop once again.

  I still haven't told her that I'm her neighbor. I know I will have to tell her eventually, but I'm waiting until the time feels right. But if she keeps ignoring me the way she is, maybe I'll never get the chance to tell her. I don't think she's ignoring me because she doesn't like me. I think there is another reason, and perhaps it's because of whatever happened last night.

  I've caught her talking with several kids and Rosie today, and she doesn’t seem to have a problem chatting it up with them. When she's around the children, she looks happy and the complete opposite of how she is with me. I figure my best bet is to catch her when she's visiting with Jacob. Maybe I can get her to talk and tell me what happened to her last night.

  In the afternoon, I make my way towards Jacob's room. I have Avery's daily routine pretty much down pat, and I know she always stops at Jacob's room before she leaves for the day. She adores that kid, and the feeling is totally mutual. I can tell how much she cares for Jacob as if he were her own son.

  My footsteps slow as I near the room. Avery's voice floats out into the hall. I can't really hear what she's saying, but Jacob giggles. A grin pulls at the corners of my mouth. I want to talk to her again and see if she responds with more than just a smile. It's not that I mind her usual engaging smile that seems to instantly turn me to mush; it's just that I love to hear the sound of her voice.

  "Hey, Avery," I say as I walk into Jacob's room.

  She looks up at me with those hauntingly beautiful blue-gray eyes. Her dark hair glistens in the sunlight cascading through the window, highlighting the deep shades of red. Her smile dims a bit, and I feel a profound sense of sadness radiating from her. I just can't quite shake the feeling that she's constantly on edge around me. I just wish I knew why.

  Avery remains quiet, barely acknowledging that I'm even there. I know she was just talking to Jacob right before I entered the room, so I wonder why she won't talk to me. Maybe her foul mood is because of something I've done and has nothing to do with last night at all. The thought of me upsetting her in some way puts me into a panic. "How are you?" I ask, trying to strike up a conversation.

  Her eyes go to the floor and dart left and right as if she's trying to decide. I wonder what's going on in that pretty little head of hers. She opens her mouth, but closes it almost immediately. I can see the tears in her eyes as she runs out of the room. I look at Jacob, and he just shrugs.

  I dart into the hall and see Avery disappearing into the break room. I follow her, catching the door before it can close. Her back is to me, and she's slumped over the sink with her hands gripping the counter. "Avery," I say as the door shuts behind me.

  She immediately straightens her spine, and it reminds me of what she does on the beach after she's let out all of her emotions. It's as if she's rebuilding a hard exterior around herself that no one can penetrate. "I'm sorry," she says so low it's barely above a whisper.

  She's sorry? For what? I don't even know what she's apologizing for. Confused, I walk over to her. "Hey, if I did something to offend you, just tell me." I'm behind her now. She's staring straight ahead out the small window above the sink. Her breathing is shallow, and her shoulders are bunched up around her ears from being so tense. "Did I do or say something wrong? Is that why you've been avoiding me? Is that why you won't talk to me?" I'm asking a lot of questions, but I'm desperate to know the answers. There is some kind of connection between us, and I need to know that I'm not imagining it. I just want her to tell me that she feels the same way. Even if it's just friendship, I'll take it. I just want to help her with whatever it is she's dealing with.

  She turns and looks at me for a fraction of a second, but it's long enough to see a million emotions flash behind those piercing eyes. She steps around me to leave. She's always running away, but I'm not going to let her today. I'm going to get to the bottom of this right here, right now. "Wait a minute," I say as my hand darts out and grasps her wrist in a firm, but gentle grip.

  Crying out in pain, she jerks away from me quickly. In the process of pulling away, the sleeve of her cardigan slides up her arm, revealing purplish-blue marks on her exposed skin. Even though I don't want to frighten or upset her, I reach out and gently pull the sleeve up a little more. I quickly inspect her skin before she pulls away. She has bruises the whole length of her forearm. Some are fresh, and some are old based on their color. My brows furrow as I meet her gaze. "Who did this to you?"

  Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me, and I realize I just saw something I wasn't ever supposed to see. "I…I fell," she says, her voice catching.

  She's lying right to my face. Those bruise patterns are not from a fall. And I bet if I placed my fingers over the elongated bruises around her wrist, they would almost match. What is she trying to cover up? Who is she trying to protect?

  I watch her closely as she pulls the sleeve of the cardigan down to her wrist, concealing her skin once again. She tugs at the sleeves in an obsessive manner. Come to think of it, she has worn a cardigan every single time I've seen her since I started working here. Another piece of the puzzle clicks into place in my mind. This isn't a one-time thing. She's been hiding these bruises for a while now. "You said you fell. Oh yeah? Where? How did you fall?"

  Avery hesitates for only a split second before saying, "I fell down the basement steps the other day. I was bringing down a basket full of laundry and slipped on the next to the last step from the bottom."

  She's obviously used to practicing her lies to tell people. She's so good at it that I almost believe her. Almost. "Some of those looked at least a few days old. Did you fall more than once?" My tone is demanding and impetuous, and I instantly regret it when I see the tears welling up in her eyes.

  I watch as her tough exterior slowly begins to crack. She releases a shaky breath before saying, "Please. Please don't tell anyone."

  "And what exactly am I not telling anyone?" I want to hear her say it. I want to hear the words.

  The look in her eyes is of pure, undiluted fear, but what or, more importantly, who is she afraid of? "Please," she pleads. Her eyes dart to the watch on her wrist. "Oh no!" she gasps. "I'm going to be late again."

  "Late for what?"

  "I have to go," she says in a panic.

  I want to reach out for her again, but I'm afraid to hurt her. I keep my hands balled in fists at my sides to resist the temptation as I watch her run from the room. We barely got the chance to talk, and then I find out in those few moments that she's being abused. But by whom? I'm determined to find out.

  Leaving the break room, I manage to catch a fleeting glimpse of Avery rushing out the exit. Rosie is at the nurses' station when I walk up to her. "I need to speak with you." My voice sounds a lot sterner than I intended, but I'm upset, and my emotions are at war with one another in my mind. I'm angry, confused and fearful for Avery's safety. I just want to know what the hell is going on with her. If she needs
help, I need to know that, so I can do everything in my power to get her the help she needs.

  Rosie follows me into an empty room. "Did I do something wrong, Dr. Harrison?" she asks.

  "What?" I ask, distracted. "Oh, no, you didn't do anything wrong." I hesitate. How can I put this out there without telling her what I saw? Obviously Avery covers her bruises for a reason. She doesn't want anyone to know, and I don't intend on spilling her secret to anyone until I know the truth behind it. "This is about Avery."

  "What about her?"

  "What's wrong with her?" I blurt out. Shit. That sounded so much better in my head. Frustrated, I scrub a hand down my face. "I mean is something wrong? She was very upset today, and I'm concerned."

  "She's always upset. There's no happiness in that girl unless she's with those kids."

  "Does she cry a lot?" Maybe she needs medication for depression, but that still wouldn't explain the bruises.

  "Well, she never cries in front of me or anyone, for that matter, but you can tell that she's carrying a huge burden on those little shoulders of hers. Avery's such a lovely girl. I don't know why she stays with him."

  "Him? Her husband?"

  She nods with a frown.

  And then the question is out of my mouth before I can even process it. "Does he hit her?"

  Rosie hesitates like she isn't sure whether she wants to tell me. "Well, I mean how clumsy can one person be? Over the years I've seen the bruises she tries so hard to cover up. And believe me, she does one hell of a job at covering them up. Even when it's a hundred degrees outside that girl will wear long-sleeved cardigans and turtlenecks." She blows out a long breath. "Listen, Dr. Harrison, I was in an abusive relationship. I know the signs, and she has all of 'em." She shakes her head sadly. "I've known Avery for six years, back when she was still in high school and started volunteering as a way to please her father and pad her college resume. The girl she was before she met her husband is not the same girl you see today. She used to be so spunky and full of life." She stares into the distance. "The complete opposite of who she is now," she says softly.

  I try to imagine Avery as her old self, being vivacious and cheerful. What I wouldn't give to see her like that once more.

  Rosie sighs deeply and continues. "I tried to bring it up once, about her leaving him. Avery didn't talk to me for weeks on end. Her bruises aren't the only things she's covering up. For some reason, she's protecting him. I see it like this --- if she doesn't want to help herself, then how can I help her?" A deep frown sets on her face. "Avery is a strong girl, but she's been more withdrawn lately. Something happened about six months ago, and Avery hasn't been the same since. I can see a change in her, and it scares me. She's good at pretending, but that hard armor of hers is starting to crack, and I think maybe he's finally breaking her down."

  Her words sink in slowly. My mind fills with images of Avery being hurt, and it kills me inside. I really don't know her that well, but I do know she doesn't deserve that kind of a life.

  "Anything else you need, Doc?" Rosie asks, breaking through my thoughts.

  "No. Thank you. You've been very helpful."

  "If you think you can help her, please try, because that girl needs saving. She just doesn't know it yet." She offers a small smile, pats me on the shoulder and leaves the room.

  I run a hand down my face and over the stubble on my chin. Rosie gave me a lot of information to take in. Instead of getting over this little crush I have with Avery, it is actually growing into more of an obsession. I need to find out more about her and what's going on in her life that would make her stay with someone who hurts her. I wouldn't exactly label myself as a knight in shining armor, but maybe she needs me to be hers.

  *

  It's late when I arrive home. There was an emergency at the hospital, and so my shift lasted a lot longer than usual. I set my things on the kitchen counter and immediately make my way outside onto the back patio. I step into the darkness and instantly spot Avery on the beach. This is definitely a ritual with her. This has happened every night this week, and somehow I sense that this is the only way she can deal with her emotions for the day. I think the ocean is her therapy, a catharsis.

  I resist the urge to go to her. I need to find out more before I start interfering in her life. For all I know, I could make things much worse for her by intervening. My hands clench into fists, and my gaze drags to the house next door. It's impressive, even more impressive than the one I am currently renting. There is a hot tub and a pool built into the lower level of the back porch. And like mine, floor-to-ceiling windows cover the back of the house overlooking the ocean. The house looks perfectly normal from the outside, but I have a feeling what's on the inside is completely opposite. I haven't met Avery's husband yet, but I don't doubt that he is probably very successful and charming. Everyone who knows him probably thinks he's a great guy too. If they only knew what I'm slowly learning.

  Tomorrow is Friday, and I intend on inviting them both over for dinner. I want to meet Avery's husband and feel him out under my own terms. Then I'll decide where to proceed from there, although I have a feeling my decision might involve my fist meeting his face.

  I watch as Avery slowly walks back to the house. Her gait is rigid and sluggish. She stops at the porch steps, and I can see the grimace on her face as she eases herself up onto the first step.

  He hurt her again. I know he did. My hands curl onto the railing, my knuckles turning white from the tight grasp. I remember the fear in her eyes when she looked at the clock. She said she was going to be late again. I wonder if he punished her because of that or for another infraction. I feel horrible. I am the one who cornered her in the break room and then confronted her. I made her late. It's my fault.

  Even though I want to yell out to her, I don't say a word. There must be a good reason for her not to seek help herself and for her to continue to stay with him. I'm going to bide my time until I can talk to her and figure out what needs to be done. And if I need to take matters into my own hands, then I will.

  Avery eventually makes her way inside. I run a hand through my hair and look up at the twinkling stars littering the night sky. "Avery, I'm going to help you," I whisper. " I promise."

  CHAPTER 6

  AVERY

  As soon as I arrive home Friday afternoon, I start packing Nathan's suitcase while he jumps in the shower. My emotions are running high as I think about a week without him being here, a week for me to plan on leaving him.

  My mind replays the day at the hospital as I fold clothes neatly on the bed. Max attempted several times to talk to me, but I ignored him as best I could. It's awkward between us now simply because he saw the bruises that I try so hard to keep hidden. He knows the truth or at least assumes to know what is going on in my life. And when he tried to bring it up today, I had to brush him off even though I didn't want to. He may think he can help, but he's wrong. No one understands the extent of my husband's power except for me. People that try to help me just end up getting hurt, and I won't let that happen to Max.

  "Are you almost done?" Nathan calls from the bathroom. "I don't want to miss my flight."

  Me either, I think to myself. The punishment I received last night for being late is still fresh in my mind. The moment I walked through the door, Nathan grabbed me from behind and shoved me into the island in the middle of the kitchen. My ribs and right knee bore the brunt of the impact. He left me lying on the floor for a long time before he finally told me to get up and make him dinner.

  The only thing that kept me sane last night was the fact that I knew he would be leaving the next day. Even though my knee and ribs are killing me, I am more than happy to pack his things. I walk around the room gingerly, favoring my right leg. It feels a lot better than it did last night, but it's still tender. I finish packing his dress shirts and zip up the suitcase. "It's all packed," I call back to him.

  "Good," he says as he walks into the bedroom. He fixes his tie one last time before slipping his arms
into his suit jacket and putting on a pair of shiny black shoes.

  He looks at me for approval, and I give a slight nod and a phony smile. Nathan looks good in whatever he wears, but he looks best in a suit. My attractiveness to him, however, fizzled out long ago after I learned that his appearance is all smoke and mirrors, hiding the monster underneath. He may be handsome on the outside; but on the inside, he is repulsive in every way imaginable. He is a real-life monster in an expensive Armani suit.

  Nathan turns to me and puts a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. "Are you going to miss me?"

  I nod once. He has a boyish grin on his face, and this is one of the rare moments when he reminds me of the man I fell in love with. At one time he was the sweetest guy on the planet, and I considered myself lucky to be called his girlfriend. And then he changed into a cruel, vindictive monster almost overnight. I think the darkness was always in him and hidden behind a carefully constructed façade, waiting for just the right moment to appear and lash out. I don't know if he actually realizes how much he hurts me and that he just doesn't care or if he's completely oblivious to my misery and pain. I may never know the truth.

  He frowns and wipes a stray tear away that I didn't even realize had fallen. "Don't cry, Avery. You know I don't like that," he complains with a stern voice.

  "I'm sorry," I mutter.

  His smile slowly returns, and he kisses my forehead. "I'll be back before you know it."

  I almost laugh at the notion that he thinks I'm upset because he's leaving. If he only knew that I'm upset because of the man he has become and for the longing of the man he used to be…or used to pretend to be.