by Kay Maree
“Wait,” Haley shrieked, “you can’t go with him.” She pointed an accusing finger at Karl. “I saw that guy in there. He was all bloodied. You can’t go with Karl. Not if he did that.”
Karl’s body felt limp against hers. He felt safe with her. She was the only person he felt safe with. Why didn’t anyone else understand that?
“I’ll be alright.”
“No, Kiera, wait . . . no!”
“Fuck off, Haley,” Karl snapped, and Haley jumped back.
“Please. Let me deal with it.” Kiera turned to her sister while Karl clung to her side. “Thank you, Haley. I love you. Thank you for tonight.”
“You don’t have to go with him,” Haley tried again.
“No, you’re wrong,” Karl barked. “She is with me. We belong together. The sooner you get your head around that, the better.”
* * * *
“What was all that about?” she asked when they were finally alone. “Why did you hit that guy.”
“Come here,” he answered, hugging her close and resting his forehead against hers. “You are mine. I love you more than anyone in the world. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s all that matters. You are mine.”
That was the first and only time they ever went clubbing together.
Chapter Five
Karl advanced in his job, and year by year, his workload increased, along with his pay-packet. Kiera continued to bake his treats, but it was more out of want than necessity. Karl bought a car just after he turned twenty and a year after that he proposed.
It was a cold winter day. Construction work had slowed, and the company had made some of the older men redundant. They had kept Karl because he was such a good worker, according to him anyway. Kiera suspected it was due to his lower wage.
“We’re going to the beach today, Kiera,” he announced as he finished his morning coffee.
“The beach?” she almost choked on hers. “It will be freezing.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he announced proudly. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
“You never do,” she laughed, which was met by a stern stare. “Okay, I’ll go get ready for the beach.”
She scurried into her room and searched through her clothes for something suitable. It had been forever since she had bought anything new. Haley had always passed on what she no longer wanted, but lately, she had seen less and less of her sister.
Since the night of her birthday, things had been strained between the once-close siblings. Kiera had tried to explain, but Haley just couldn’t or wouldn’t take the time to understand. Karl was different from most boys. Special. He hadn’t been loved. Not until she had come along. Sometimes he was short with her, even disrespectful, but it was because he hadn’t had a role model, someone to learn from. How could she stay angry with him? Especially when he always made it up to her. After an angry outburst, he would buy her flowers or take her out for dinner. He provided for her. Took care of her. She didn’t have to work, she could be a lady of leisure. She would spend her days visiting the library, reading books and baking.
“Are you ready yet?” Karl called, and she looked up to find him leaning on the door-frame, looking every bit as handsome as he had the day they had met. Only now, he had grown a full beard. It made him look older, more mature.
“I can’t find anything to wear,” she sighed, turning back to her open chest of draws.
“I think . . . ,” he mused, moving inside the room, “you should wear this.” He held up a yellow crop top that tied behind her neck.
“Don’t you think it will be a bit cold?”
“You can wear this over the top.” He scooped a woollen cardigan from the pile on top of the draws that she had yet to put away.
“Okay,” she agreed, hesitantly.
“Well, get a wiggle on.” He winked and slapped her playfully on the butt before retreating from the room. “The beach is waiting,” he called over his shoulder.
It was cold and windy when they arrived at the beach, not a good day for swimming. The waves roared as they crashed down onto the wet sand and receded back into the ocean. There was something calming in the way they kept coming back, roll after roll; it was always reliable.
“I want to show you something,” Karl said, taking her hand and leading her along the beach.
When the gusts blew up, she pulled her coat closer around her body, and Karl tucked her into him, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. They seemed to walk for ages, and she wondered where they could possibly be going. “This is it,” he finally announced.
Looking around, Kiera couldn’t make out any particular landmarks, nor see anything different.
“What is it?”
“Up here,” he tugged her toward the dune.
The sand fell away beneath her feet as she climbed the incline, excited to see what Karl had been so intent on showing her. Reaching the top, she took in a sharp breath as she realised why he had brought her to this spot. Placed neatly in the pure white sand were smooth beach stones, arranged in the shape of a heart with the words spelled out within, Kiera, will you marry me?
Tears fell from her eyes and were whipped away by the wind. Her heart swelled, and her hands trembled as Karl dropped to one knee in front of her and produced a red, velvet box from his pocket. Flipping it open, a glistening diamond peered back up at her.
“I was lost until you found me, Kiera. No one has ever loved me or fulfilled me the way you do. I can’t think of anyone else in the entire world that I would want to spend the rest of my life with. Nothing will ever come between us. I hope you will do me the honour of becoming my wife. What do you say?”
Kiera’s legs wobbled beneath her until she dropped to her own knees to meet him. Her smile so wide, her cheeks hurt. The sand blasted her exposed skin, but she felt no pain. She had never felt so much happiness in her entire life.
“Yes, Karl. Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course, I will marry you. I love you so much.”
Chapter Six
Married life was not what she had expected. It didn’t bring any happiness with it. If anything, it seemed to make Karl even more controlling. In the beginning, she enjoyed the extra attention, being referred to as his wife. Until the title started being spat at her, like venom.
“You are my wife, and you will do as I say,” Karl would bark whenever she tried to argue with him. It was like being his wife made her his possession.
Karl worked late most nights. Kiera suspected he was doing more than work, particularly when he would stumble in late, smelling of alcohol, cigarettes, and the vague hint of women’s perfume, but soon learned to challenge him was a mistake.
“Who do you think you are? I provide for you. I work my guts out to keep a roof over your head. Where do you think you would be without me?”
“I don’t know,” would be her only reply. She dared not think of what her life could be. After leaving school, she hadn’t worked. She had no skills. No one would give her a job. Not now. He was right. She wasn’t much good to anyone other than as a wife. Karl’s wife.
“I just get lonely sometimes. Especially when you don’t come home. I’ve been thinking, perhaps we could try for a baby?”
“A baby?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. “What would we do with a baby?”
“At least I would have company. Maybe we could join a mothers group, or they have reading hour at the library for kids. I might actually make some friends.”
“Friends?” he scoffed. “You never wanted to have friends before.”
It was true. When they had met back in school, she had confided in him that she had no friends. She hadn’t been interested in the girly chatter that circulated the schoolyard and gym. At home, she’d been content to spend time with her sister. She hadn’t needed other people in her life.
“It’s just,” she tried, “you work so late. I don’t see Haley anymore.”
“Why?” she asked indignantly. “Why wouldn’t I? Why would you say that?”
“Well, look at you,” he snorted, raising a hand and waving it around the spotless room. “You are lazy. You don’t pick up after yourself. I work long hours. I haven’t got time to come home and clean up after you, and a baby.”
“But you don’t,” she cried. “I do . . . you don’t.” Her words caught in her throat. He was lying. He did nothing around the house. Needed nothing. She waited on him like a maid. She would rise before him each morning and prepare him a cooked breakfast. Pack his lunch. Wash his bedclothes after he left and iron his work clothes for the next day. She kept the house sparkling clean. Partially out of boredom, but also out of fear that if he returned home and found her reading and noticed a streak on the glass in the shower, he would be furious. An angry Karl was something to be avoided at all costs.
“I don’t?” He loomed over her, his face reddening. “See, that’s the problem with you, Kiera. You just don’t appreciate all you have. I do so much for you, and is it ever enough?” He grasped her left wrist and held her hand up between them.
“You’re hurting me,” she cried as he twisted her skin in his rough hand.
“Hurting you?” he yelled, turning her hand until pain radiated up her arm, into her shoulder. “You are hurting me, Kiera. I bought you these rings.” He thrust her twisted hand toward her face. “You are my wife, and you don’t appreciate anything I do for you, do you? Other women would kill to be in your position. But I chose you, Kiera. And you can’t even be thankful for that?”
Kiera squirmed and writhed, trying to move out of his tight grip. His intense stare holding her in place.
“Please let me go,” she pleaded.
“Not until you start showing me the respect I deserve.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Louder!”
“I’m sorry, Karl,” she said in a normal voice. “Now, please let me go.”
“What else?”
“I love you, and I’m sorry for challenging you. You’re right,” she uttered. “I will try to be better.”
Kiera let out a relieved breath as he let go, but the pain didn’t immediately subside.
“You fucking better be. Now make my dinner.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “I want steak.”
“Yes,” she nodded, making her way to the kitchen.
She had spent the day preparing a lasagne. She knew it was one of his favourites. Using fresh ingredients she had purchased from the local market, she had rolled her own pasta sheets and prepared the sauce from her own recipe that she had perfected over time.
“What’s this shit?” he roared.
“Lasagne. Your favourite.”
With a crash, Karl picked up the edge of the plate and threw it at the wall. Pieces of china mixed with béchamel and tomato sauce, as the gooey mess plastered the white wall in a deranged kind of art. Kiera’s throat closed over, and she struggled to find a breath.
“I said I wanted steak. Now clean up this fuckin’ mess and make me a steak.”
“No!” She stood firm. “I worked all day on that.” She pointed to the mess of pasta on the floor.
“No?” he screamed, his face turning a vibrant shade of somewhere between red and purple. Kiera thought he might have a heart attack and wondered briefly if she would even care.
“No. That’s not fair. I made that especially for you, and now look at what you’ve done.” It was out of character for her. She rarely spoke up to him like that, but she was angry and hurt. First, he had called her lazy and told her she would be a bad mother, and now he was telling her she needed to make him something else for dinner, after all the effort she had gone through.
Rising from his seat, he made his way to her. As he loomed over her, he suddenly seemed a lot larger than he usually did. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, she was determined to stand her ground.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Karl’s hand curled into a fist at his side.
“What are you going to do? Hit me?”
He tossed his head back and let out a humourless laugh. “Is that what you want? Is that the kind of man you think I am?”
Kiera shrugged. She honestly wasn’t sure what kind of man he was anymore. He had changed over the years from the boy she had fallen in love with, the fun-loving, caring, romantic one. In his place was this man who was always angry. One who had taken care of her because he wanted to. A man who wouldn’t allow her to get a job because he wanted to provide for her and now seemed resentful of her for being that person. Had she changed? Had she become selfish and needy?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pushing her chair back and moving toward the kitchen to fetch a cloth to clean the mess.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m going out.”
“Wh . . . where are you going?”
“Out!” he snapped in return.
She watched his back as he retreated from the house. Not sure if or when he might be back. Not sure if she even cared.
* * * *
“I’m so sorry, Kiera.”
Slowly her eyes blinked open to a darkened room. She had cleaned the lasagne mess, stored the leftovers in the fridge, showered, and gone to bed alone. Searching in the dark now, she found the illuminated clock that read three-twenty-four.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You make me so angry at times. You know I would never hurt you, don’t you?”
Memories of earlier in the night came rushing back; Karl had twisted her wrist so hard, she thought her shoulder might dislocate.
“Karl, I . . . ,”
“Please. Listen to me. I’ve been under a lot of stress at work lately. You need to understand. I know I get frustrated at times, but you need to just stay out of my way when I get like that. I didn’t hit you. I never would. I was upset that you might suggest that.”
“Karl, you can’t . . . ,”
“Let me finish,” he insisted. “You know me. No one else does. You know I could never do anything to hurt you. I lived in families growing up where the men bashed their wives, and I swore I would never do that. How could I? I love you so much.”
Kiera reached out in the dark and touched the side of his face. “I do love you, Karl.”
“I need you, Kiera. You need to forgive me.”
“I do forgive you, Karl. Of course, I do.”
Chapter Seven
Neither of them mentioned that night again. Karl made more of an effort to be good. He would come home from work on time, bring her flowers every few weeks, and even took her out for dinner occasionally.
The one thing that hadn’t left her mind was the desire to have a baby, mainly when every time she left the house, pregnant women seemed to be everywhere. Either that or they were cradling their newborns. The dads were attentive too. Karl would be a great dad; she knew he would. He just didn’t realise it.
She knew that his fear of her having a baby had to do with his childhood. He had been traumatised when he was taken away from his drug-addicted mother and placed in various foster homes. No child should ever have to go through what Karl had. He never had a real father, just a series of men who would belittle and abuse him. He didn’t know what being a dad was all about.
He had insisted time and again that he wouldn’t repeat his past. He wouldn’t treat her the way he had seen his foster mothers treated. He loved her with a ferocity unequalled by anything else.
Haley had insisted he was no good for her. She’d tried to talk her out of marrying him and returning to the family home. She felt he was too over-powering. She didn’t understand he was just protective of her little sister. Karl didn’t have anyone else, just her.
“Have you been taking these?” Karl asked, holding up the card of her birth-control pills that she kept in the top draw of the ba
throom cabinet.
“Of course,” she snatched the card from his hand and popped the next pill from the blister, placing it on her tongue for proof.
“Good,” he confirmed with a nod of his head.
A few months had passed, and she hadn’t been game to bring up the idea of getting pregnant again. She knew it was wrong, but she had been skipping her pills. Each morning she would pop that day's allotment and tip it straight down the bathroom sink, flushing it away with running water. If Karl knew, he would be furious. If she was careful, which so far she was, he would never know.
Saving ten dollars from the grocery money Karl had given, she looked around before ducking into the local pharmacy. Selecting the cheapest pregnancy test kit she could find, she scurried home, dumping the excess rubbish in a bin along the way.
Her stomach tied in knots as she waited the required five minutes to determine her fate. It was too late now to change her mind. If she had made a mistake, she was going to have to live with it. Deep down, she was positive it was the change they needed. A baby would inject a shot of excitement into their marriage. It would give Karl the value in life he so dearly craved, and he would be an amazing father.
The clock ticked by slowly as she waited for her husband to arrive home. He finished at five, often working late. She hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days. When she heard the key turn in the lock of the front door at ten minutes past five, she sucked in a deep breath.
“Hey,” Karl called.
She sucked in a deep breath and calmed herself. “Hey Karl, how was your day?”
“Oh, you know,” he shrugged. “I missed you.” He was in a good mood. That was the best she could hope for. “What are you so happy about?”
“Well,” she began. She had rehearsed all afternoon what she would say, how to break the news to him. Now faced with the reality of it, her thoughts had completely left her. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
The colour drained from Karl’s face, and his mouth fell slack. “You’re . . . pregnant? But . . . how?”