Anything But Mine

by Justice, Barbara

  As Vince stood up and adjusted his robe, he said, “You’re going to be my wife in a few days, Jennifer. Don’t you ever try to deny me or refuse me again.”

  Jen continued to cry, and did not turn around to look at Vince as he walked into his bathroom. Once she heard the sound of the bathroom door being locked, she sat up and tried to comprehend what had just happened. Walking into her dressing room, she looked in the full length mirror and saw her upper arms were red with the beginnings of welts and bruises, which stung when she touched them.

  Panicking, she knew she had to get out of the apartment before Vince was done in his bathroom. She pulled her largest Louis Vuitton tote bag down from a shelf, and quickly packed a pair of sneakers, some underwear, and a change of clothes. Next, she ran into the bedroom, where she slipped her dress over her head and her boots onto her feet, then into her bathroom and grabbed her birth control pills and make up, and threw them into her bag.

  Once she was out of the bedroom, Jen felt safe, but not safe enough to linger in the apartment. She dialed Pablo, asking him to meet her in front of the building while she put on her coat and punched the elevator button. Once the elevator doors closed and she was alone, she was finally able to exhale.

  Five minutes later, Pablo brought the car to a stop outside of Grant Glasso’s boutique on Madison Avenue. Jen quickly exited and, looking back over her shoulder, said, “I might be a while, Pablo, but I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  She looked back again as she was entering the boutique, and saw Pablo answer his cell phone and look at her as she went through the door. It must be Vince calling him, she thought. Her phone rang a few seconds later, and when she saw the call was from Vince, she turned off her phone and buried it deep inside her tote bag.

  Grace, Gina and Catherine arrived a few minutes later, and Jen insisted that they have their fittings first, so that she could try to figure out how to keep them from discovering what happened to her earlier. She shook her head and thought, I must be crazy. How can I marry Vince after what he did to me this morning?

  Jen entered her fitting room and removed her cardigan. She looked in the mirror, and gasped at her reflection. The bruises look even worse now than they did before, she thought. While she was staring at herself in the mirror, she was startled by a knock on the door, and before she had a chance to pull her cardigan back on, Catherine entered the room in her bridesmaid dress.

  Catherine immediately focused on the red welts on Jen’s upper arms, and exclaimed, “Oh my God! Jen, what happened to you?” When Jen said nothing, and instead just shook her head and sat down, Catherine closed the door behind her and rushed to her side. “Did Vince do this to you?”

  Jen nodded her head, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Please, promise me you won’t tell anyone,” she whispered. “I’m so ashamed.”

  A wave of concern swept over Catherine’s face. “I promise, Jen. I won’t say a word. But I don’t understand why you’re ashamed.” She put an arm around her friend’s shoulder, and softly asked, “What happened?”

  As Jen related the events of that morning, Catherine became more and more enraged. “You aren’t seriously thinking of going forward with the wedding, are you?”

  Jen couldn’t look at Catherine, and hung her head down. “I feel like I have to. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Has he ever done this to you before?”

  “No, never,” Jen replied. “This was totally out of the blue. He was so angry with me when I said no to him. It was like he couldn’t control himself.”

  “Yeah, I imagine no one tells him no,” Catherine remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t think he’ll do this to you again, do you?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” The two friends sat there quietly, before Jen continued, “I don’t think I can go back there tonight. I need some time alone to think.”

  “Do you want to stay with us?”

  “I don’t want to put you and Luke in the middle of this. He works for Vince, after all, and I don’t want to put his job in jeopardy. I’ll probably stay with my parents, or at my place in Brooklyn.”

  “Okay, but what about the wedding? If you’re going to call it off, you probably should do it before people start arriving from out of town.” Catherine added, quietly, “Drew is flying in Thursday night.”

  Although she tried to hide it, Jen’s entire body jerked and her hands trembled on hearing Drew’s name.

  Catherine noticed Jen’s reaction, and said, “Oh my God, Jen, you still love him. You’re still not over him.”

  “I’ll never be over him,” Jen confessed. “It was always Drew, from the moment we met. I was comfortable with him right from the start. We just ‘clicked’, and it was like I’d known him my whole life.”

  Stunned, Catherine asked, “But what about all those years with Chris?”

  “Even when I was with Chris, I knew somewhere deep down…,” Jen’s voice trailed off. “Even then, I sometimes dreamed of Drew making love to me,” she whispered.

  Catherine’s eyes grew wide. “Then how can you marry Vince?”

  “Drew gave up – he never put up a fight for me,” Jen said, as the pain she had carefully hidden away came bubbling up to the surface. She struggled to regain her composure, before continuing, “He told me to get on with my life, and he clearly has gotten on with his. So don’t worry about the wedding. It’s going to go forward.”

  “I’m not worried about the wedding, Jen. I’m worried about you. I’m worried that you aren’t marrying the man you love.”

  “That’s not true. I do love Vince,” Jen replied. “It’s just that I’ve never gotten over Drew.” She stood up and again examined the bruises on her arms while looking in the mirror. “You know, it’s funny, Cath, it would be so much easier to forget about Drew if he had done something horrible, or if we’d had a bad argument and break-up.” Jen sighed, before continuing, “It’s so much harder to forget him, when I have nothing but good memories of him. Even though he broke my heart, somewhere deep inside, I’ll always love him.”

  “If only things were different,” Catherine said, her voice trailing off.

  “But they’re not. That’s why I’m marrying Vince. He loves me. He’s protected me, and kept me safe.” Jen hugged herself, as a tear slipped past her eyelashes and ran down her cheek.

  Catherine stood and walked over to where Jen was standing. Trying to be supportive of her friend, she said, “Your wedding gown is sleeveless, Jen. How are you going to cover the bruises? They’ll never heal by Saturday.”

  “I’m going to ask Mr. Glasso to make sleeves for my gown,” she replied. “Hopefully he has enough fabric, and the seamstresses have enough time, to do it.” She was silent for a moment, then added, “Good thing I had everyone on Mr. Glasso’s staff sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

  Vince arrived at his office in a foul mood, having tried to reach Jennifer all morning, but his calls went directly to her voice mail. He took his anger out on everyone, including his assistant, Marianne, hissing, “Hold all my calls unless they’re from Jennifer or Brad Wesley.”

  He slammed the door to his office and began pacing the floor. Where the hell is she? Why won’t she take my calls?

  When the intercom buzzed, he ran and picked up the phone. “Put him through,” he said to Marianne.

  A moment later, Brad Wesley was on the line. “Where the hell is she?”

  “I just viewed the footage from some of the security cameras in the area. She slipped out the side door when she left Grant Glasso’s boutique, and got into a yellow cab with her friend Catherine.”

  “Goddamn it,” Vince barked into the phone. “Find her immediately,” he shouted, before hanging up and dialing Jen’s number again.

  As the day wore on and Jen didn’t return his calls, his anger turned into fear, anxiety and concern for her. Where is she, he wondere
d, as he began dialing logical places where Jennifer might be found, but each call was a dead end. She’s not home, she’s not at any of her favorite restaurants, she’s not in the Hamptons, she’s not even at her apartment in Brooklyn Heights. He wandered over to the window and looked across the East River towards Brooklyn. I can’t call her parents, not yet, he thought. Who else can I call? Where else can I search?

  As he stared out the window, he came to a realization, and summoned Luke into his office. “Sit down,” he said, directing him to a chair next to his desk. “Have you spoken with your wife today?”

  “I spoke with her about an hour ago. Why?”

  “I can’t reach Jennifer. She must have turned her phone off,” Vince said. “Do you know where they went?”

  “They had their dress fittings this morning, and then they had lunch at Saks.”

  Saks. It never occurred to me that they would have lunch at Saks. “What about after lunch?”

  “I don’t know what they did after lunch.”

  Vince’s voice took on a stern tone. “Find out for me, and find out fast,” he said as he handed the receiver to his desk telephone to Luke. “Call Catherine now.”

  Luke nervously took the receiver from Vince, and punched in the number for his wife’s cell phone. Before Catherine answered, Vince hit the speaker button, so he could hear the conversation.

  “Hey, honey,” Luke said nervously, as Vince stared at him. “Just wanted to check in with you. Do you know where Jen is, by any chance?”

  Not knowing that Vince was listening, but staying true to her promise to Jen to not reveal her secret, Catherine explained, “I don’t know. After lunch, we did some shopping at Saks, and then we went our separate ways. Why? Is everything okay?”

  “Vince wanted me to call you because he can’t reach Jen. She hasn’t answered her phone all day, and he’s worried about her.”

  Maybe he should be worried, Catherine thought. “She mentioned that she had a lot of shopping to do for the honeymoon. And she probably just wants some time alone.”

  Vince paced back and forth within his office after Luke ended his call with Catherine, wondering why the best private investigators in the city couldn’t find his fiancée. He was about to call Brad Wesley again, when his cell phone rang, and he saw Jen’s number come up on the caller i.d.

  He raced to answer it, and was surprised when she said in a steely voice, “Don’t you ever do what you did to me this morning again.”

  “Where are you? I have an army of private investigators trying to find you.”

  Jen heard the desperation in Vince’s voice, and wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or sickened by it. “That is what you say to me after what you did to me this morning? I thought at the very least you would apologize for what you did to me.”

  “It was just a little rough sex, Jennifer. You shouldn’t have struggled so hard,” Vince said, trying to regain control of the conversation.

  “No, Vince, it wasn’t rough sex. It was rape.” Seething, she continued, “You should see the welts and bruises I have on both my arms. I don’t think you have any idea how much you hurt me.”

  For a moment, Vince was speechless. He swallowed hard before asking, “You have bruises?”

  “From where you grabbed me and dug your hands into me.” Jen looked out the window of the taxi as it drove through the streets of the Lower East Side, having persuaded the driver to just drive around Manhattan with no particular destination after promising to pay him triple the fare on the meter. “The bruises are so big, and so obvious, that I had to have my wedding dress completely re-made to cover them. There is absolutely no way they will heal or fade by Saturday.”

  Waves of relief washed over Vince. “So you aren’t leaving me? You aren’t going to call off the wedding?”

  Jen answered with a force and determination she didn’t know she had. “I will still marry you on Saturday, Vince, assuming you agree to two conditions.”

  Desperate, he immediately agreed. “What are they?”

  “First, you are not to blame Pablo for not knowing where I am. He is afraid of losing his job, and none of this is his fault. I purposely went out a side door when I left Mr. Glasso’s boutique this morning, and Pablo had no idea what was going on. Promise me you won’t fire him, and that he will remain my driver.”

  Vince’s heart raced, as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Of course. I promise. What else?”

  “You have to promise to respect me, Vince. That when I say no, I mean no. Don’t you ever, ever force yourself on me again. Because the next time you do, it will be the last time you ever see me or touch me. Do you understand?”

  Shaken, Vince once again agreed to Jen’s terms. “Yes, I understand. And I’m very, very sorry about this morning. I promise to never force myself on you again.” When Jen didn’t respond, Vince asked, timidly, “Are you coming home?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet,” Jen said, as she ended the call, and powered off her cell phone. Looking out the window of the taxi as it traveled down Houston Street, she wondered, what should I do?

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  The morning of the first Saturday of December dawned sunny and bitterly cold. Jen rose early, and tip-toed past the guest suites and into the kitchen for some coffee before Catherine and her sister Gina woke up. She brought her steaming mug into the living room, and looked out across Fifth Avenue towards the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Central Park, taking a sip of the sweet, creamy brew as she reflected on her last morning as a single woman.

  It was good catching up with everyone at the rehearsal dinner last night, she thought. Especially Drew. She sighed, and took another sip of coffee. It was a surprise when Collette let it slip that she and Drew are talking about moving in together. But it makes it easier for me to let go, when I know he has already let go of me.

  Jen turned away from the window and walked back towards the kitchen where Mary was preparing breakfast. She heard some movement from the guest suites, and knew that Gina and Catherine would join her in the kitchen soon, before Kenny, her long-time hair stylist, arrived to do their hair and makeup. Even though we’ve been sleeping in separate bedrooms since the incident on Tuesday, I’m so glad Vince stayed at the St. Regis last night, and I was able to have one final night alone, she thought. He was in no position to protest when I told him I would be sleeping in one of the guest suites until after the wedding.

  The next few hours were a blur. Once Kenny arrived, he kept them all entertained and laughing while he fixed their hair and applied their makeup, feeding them lots of Hamptons gossip to go along with the champagne they were sipping.

  “Did you hear that Daphne Warfield has hooked up with Jim Flanagan? Now, there’s a couple,” Kenny said.

  “I’m surprised,” Jen replied. “She usually goes for much wealthier men.”

  “She’s in her mid-thirties now,” Kenny said. “She’s not as young as she used to be. And besides, he’s making millions with all the farmland he’s been developing.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Jen said, rolling her eyes.

  Grace looked at her watch after Kenny applied the finishing touches to her makeup and said, “Jen, it’s just about time to get dressed. Do you want me to help you with your gown?”

  “No,” Jen blurted out.

  Grace recoiled. “Why not?”

  “Umm…” Jen’s eyes darted around the room. Her stomach churned and she panicked, before calling out, “Cath? Can you help me into my gown?” Catherine is the only one who knows my secret, the only one who knows about the bruises and what Vince did to me earlier in the week.

  Turning to Grace, she said, “Mr. Glasso showed Catherine how to hook the buttons quickly, so it makes sense that she helps me. Besides, mom, I want to be able to see your face when you see me for the first time in my gown.”

  There wasn’t a
dry eye in the room when Jen emerged from the master suite in her lace gown. Peter and Grace both rushed to her side, hugging her tightly. “My little girl,” Peter said, choking back tears.

  Grace held Jen closely, and when she released her daughter, she noticed the change in Jen’s gown for the first time. “I thought your gown was sleeveless,” she said. “When did you change the design?”

  “Just last week, mom,” Jen answered. Looking at Catherine, she continued, “I checked the long range forecast for today before my final fitting, and when I saw it was going to be freezing, I decided to add the sleeves at the last minute. After all, I don’t want to be sick for the honeymoon. Does it look okay?”

  “You look beautiful,” Grace replied, and everyone in the room agreed.