by Amy Lynn
I looked at him, completely shocked at the man that stood before me. “Brad,” I said. But he wouldn’t meet my eyes and continued to stare at the floor.
“Brad. Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Do you remember our vows? The ones we recited to one another before God and our parents?”
He nodded a yes.
“Did you mean them?” I asked.
“With all my heart,” he said, his voice cracking midway.
“Our vows have been tested.”
He instantly sank to his knees in front of me. “Ava, please don’t leave me,” he pleaded.
“If you remember your vows, now would be the time to repeat them,” I continued.
He remained on the floor and brought his eyes slowly up until they landed on my face. He winced, lowered his head to his knees, and began to cry again. After several minutes passed, he began to recite his vows. “I, Bradley Lauren, take you, Ava, to be my wife. To have and to hold, to honor and treasure, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy. From this day forward, in good times and in bad, I’ll love and cherish you always. This I promise you all the days of my life.”
Brad’s head came off his knees, the look in his eyes empty and lifeless. “Ava, I will do whatever it takes to keep you as my wife. I beg you, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
“So am I,” I said. After all, I had to own my fault in this too.
Walking to my side of the bed, I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand.
“Where are you going?” Brad asked.
“I’m sleeping in the den.” There was no way I could share our bed with him. I hated that it was me who was breaking our promise to never sleep apart from one another, but what other choice did I have?
“No. I’ll take the den. You sleep here,” Brad insisted as he moved towards the door.
I didn’t have it in me to argue, so I nodded and he disappeared into the hallway.
I slipped beneath the sheets and closed my eyes, but I didn’t sleep. Images of the night’s events played on repeat in my mind, firing fast and out of sequence like flashes of light.
Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I prayed for sleep so I could escape the nightmare I was having while awake. Soon thereafter, my prayers were answered, and sleep consumed me.
I woke quickly, blinking in the darkness and instantly wincing at the throbbing ache that pounded against my skull. Looking at the clock, the digital numbers displayed a little after four am. Christ. And I have to work today.
Slowly, I sat upright and gasped when I saw Brad perched at the very edge of the bed.
He bolted upright and backed away a few steps with his hands spread at his sides. “I just….I wanted…” He shook his head. “Shit. I’m sorry. I needed to see…to make sure you were okay.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his messy hair. “Are you? Okay I mean?”
Was I okay? My world has been shattered by the only man who’s ever claimed to love me. The broken, jagged pieces of my heart and life lay at my feet, much too small to fix, and if I move to take a step in any direction, I’d cut myself on the tiny razor-sharp pieces. No, I wasn’t okay.
“I’ll go,” Brad breathed, breaking my thoughts. “I shouldn’t be in here anyway.”
And just like that, he was gone. If my head wasn’t being pounded by twenty sledgehammers simultaneously, I’d start crying all over again.
Cradling my head in my hands, I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, and hope to find the strength to get out of bed and grab some Excedrin. On my last exhale, I hear Brad reenter the room.
“I…thought you…” he trails off again, squeezing his eyes tightly shut at his own awkwardness. He opens them and sets a tray on the corner of the bed. “Here.”
I glance quickly at the tray that held a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a chocolate cupcake, and a glass of milk, then meet his eyes. He instantly looks at the floor, and I went cold wondering what I must look like.
With nothing more to say, Brad turns on his heels, and walks swiftly to the door.
“Brad,” I mutter into the darkness, stopping him briefly in his tracks. “Thank you.”
He throws up his left hand in acknowledgement. His wedding band sparkles as it catches the moonlight filtering through the window before he disappears through the doorway.
I wasn’t hungry five minutes ago, but the food that sat inches away had my stomach speaking rather loudly. Perhaps a few bites would give me enough energy to leave the bed and search for some pain relievers. Sliding the tray across the blankets, I instantly saw something I had missed with my earlier glance. Sitting next to the glass of milk was a folded note and a small medicine cup that held two Excedrin. The note read: Food first.
Chapter 10
Brad
I sit on the edge of our bed watching Ava sleep. In one way, she looks like a sleeping angel. Her chest rising and falling with each breath she inhales, her hair spread across her pillow and falling down all around her like a halo, her hands clutching the blankets to her chin, the silhouette of her beneath the blankets to good to be simply human. I look at her face, and it tells a different story. Her face is pale, her lips are dry. Dark circles have formed under her eyes, her brows are drawn together with pain even in her sleep, and there’s a large swollen red mark across her cheekbone.
I did that. Every fucking bit of it.
I feel myself start to break down again, but I cut it off before the tears are able to form. Am I losing it because I’ve done this to her or because I’m feeling sorry for myself? I grit my teeth when my heart and brain start to argue. What the fuck? I’m seriously considering kicking my own ass.
Ava stirs slightly and lets out a painful moan. Bringing her palms to her head, she clutches her temples and rolls over to lay flat on her back. Her moans continue, little whimpers that I can barely stand to hear, and I know she has a headache. She’ll wake up any minute and will probably kick me in the face when she sees me here. I don’t care. I can’t bring myself to leave her.
Ava’s eyes start to flutter, and then all at once, she blinks her eyes awake. She doesn’t see me sitting at the corner of the bed as she turns to look at the clock, and I remain still refusing to even breathe for fear of being noticed. Sliding her elbows back, she struggles to a sitting position, and I hold myself firm and still.
She gasps, clearly not happy to see me, and I back away from the bed to put distance between us. Coward.
I know I’m speaking to her because my lips are moving, but I have no idea what I’m saying. I begin to listen, and I hear myself ask her if she is okay. She stares at me for what feels like an eternity, and I’m begging her to say something. Anything. She just looks at me as if she’s seeing straight through me and into my soul. I can’t stand it. I feel myself start to break again, and I can’t allow her to see me so vulnerable.
“I’ll go. I shouldn’t be here,” I hear myself say and enter the hallway while fighting the urge to scream.
Well, I fucked that up.
Downstairs, I grab a glass from the cabinet; fill it with water from the dispenser in the refrigerator door, and down it in two gulps.
And then it hit me.
Ava didn’t eat dinner. And who knows when she last had a drink of anything.
“Dammit,” I cursed at the memory of her dry lips.
Grabbing a loaf of bread, I plucked two slices from the sleeve, peanut butter from the pantry, and the jelly from the fridge. It wasn’t a great meal, but it was one I could put together quickly. Since Ava couldn’t take medication on an empty stomach as it always seemed to make her sick, this was necessary.
I slather on the sticky, sugary goo, place it on a plate, and slice the bread diagonally in half. I pour a tall glass of milk because Ava likes milk with her PB&J, and place them on a tray along with a cupcake and two Excedrin. The note was a last minute thought, but one I knew was necessary. I lost my ability to speak around her the last time; well, this time it
wouldn’t matter. I don’t need to say a damn thing.
I take a deep breath outside our bedroom door, and when I enter, Ava’s cradling her aching head in her hands. She looks up when I enter, and stupidly I start to speak. “I…thought you…” Shut up! I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. “Here,” I say setting the tray at the corner of the bed.
Ava’s eyes swept the tray taking in the food and beverage, and she looked me square in the eye. That’s when my soul left my body. I turned away from her so fast I hardly believed my own movements.
“Brad,” Ava called out, and my body stopped instantly at her command. I hated that. It made me feel as though she owned me for what I had done. And maybe she did.
“Thank you.”
My feet felt like ton weights when I forced myself to walk away. My heart simply imploding beneath my ribs, my soul forever marked with this scar that would never heal and held the promise to haunt me until my last breath.
I grind my teeth together hard as I descend the stairs to keep myself from falling apart where she might hear. The moment I enter the den, I lose it.
I’m fucking possessed. That’s the only logical explanation. I have done the unforgivable. Something I thought I’d never be capable of. And now that I have, I wanted to disappear.
Actually, that’s not a bad idea…
Chapter 11
Ava
I woke to my alarm and for the briefest of moments in my sleep slumber, I had forgotten about yesterday’s events. When they came flooding back, they slammed into me hard, and I was thankful I hadn’t left the bed yet.
Entering the shower, I managed to avoid the mirror, not quite ready to see my own reflection. I brushed my teeth and blow-dried my hair without catching a glimpse until it was time to put on my makeup.
I had dark circles beneath my eyes, and my lids were slightly puffy, but all of that helped to mask my slightly swollen cheek. I nearly felt sick. As I dug through my makeup bag pulling out everything, I prepared to apply as much as was needed to make this look less noticeable. If I couldn’t pull it off, I’d just have to call in sick.
By the time I was finished, I couldn’t really tell. I left my hair down to help cover, my curls framing my face, and I was satisfied with the results. If I couldn’t tell, hopefully no one else would either.
The house was quiet as I descended the stairs, and I wondered where Brad was. I don’t know why I cared. Actually, I didn’t. I guess it was more curiosity than anything.
Calling out to him crossed my mind for a nanosecond, and I shut that thought down so fast I barely had time to register it. Entering the kitchen, I saw a note propped beside a box of Krispy Kremes on the counter. Brad knew they were my favorite especially when warm, and I rolled my eyes at the thought. Steam had collected beneath the clear window of the lid and had pooled to form tiny little droplets. Dammit, still warm… He really was pulling out all the stops.
The note simply read Enjoy.
Opening the lid, I selected one and sank my teeth into it. Eating a doughnut didn’t necessarily mean forgiveness. It simply meant I was freaking hungry.
Just as I entered the elevator at work, Abe strolled through the front lobby doors. He took longer strides when he saw me, and I held the elevator quickly looking away when our eyes met.
“Morning, Ava.”
“Good morning, Abe,” I offered back as I examined the tips of my peep toe heels.
Abe shifted his briefcase to his left hand and punched the emergency stop button. “What the hell happened to your face?”
I jerked my head up and felt my cheeks go red. How could he tell? Shit, what should I say?
“Well?” he pressed.
There was nothing to do but simply deny it. I narrowed my eyes and pressed my lips together with the thought that it made me look more convincing. “I had an allergic reaction, Abe. You don’t have to make me feel self-conscious about it.”
The pull between his eyebrows released. “I’m sorry, Ava. I…jumped to conclusions there.”
I shrugged. “It’s alright. You just owe me a latte now.”
Abe’s response was a deep throaty laugh as he gave the emergency stop another punch and rubbed his smoothly shaven jaw.
When the elevator doors slid open, Abe allowed me to exit first. When he didn’t follow, I turned around. “Coming?” I asked.
“No. I have a latte to get.”
I started to protest, but the doors slid closed on his big devilish grin. Damn doors couldn’t have been more perfectly timed.
Thirty minutes later when I returned to my desk from making copies, a fresh latte sat on my desk, a post it note sticking to its side that read:
Sorry for being a dick - AK
Over the next several days, things with Brad were rough. He would either work late or confine himself to the den without so much as a word. We haven’t talked since the incident. And we’ve barely seen one another.
The good news? Nothing lasts forever.
The bad news? Nothing lasts forever.
While I didn’t want to talk about it, it was something that would have to happen eventually if we were to ever get past this. Would we get past it? Were we supposed to? Or should we just pretend like it never happened?
Thursday night I decided to wait up for Brad. I couldn’t stand the silence nor could I stand to not know what was going on in my husband’s life. After all, he was my husband regardless of what had happened between us.
The garage door opened around ten, and I sat up on the couch pulling the throw blanket I was covered with around me.
Brad entered the kitchen, threw his keys on the counter, and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator as he made his way towards the den.
“Brad.”
He froze in his tracks, his back straightening at the sound of his name. He slowly turned to face me, his lips parting at the sight of me.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
Brad looked at the floor and back to me. “We will, but not tonight. I…just can’t.”
I nodded I understood, tears welling in my eyes. “Can you do something for me?”
He thought for a moment and nodded. “Sure.”
I waited for a moment surprised at what I was about to suggest. Just say it.
“Come to bed,” I question more than ask, wiping away an escaped tear. “Just to sleep.”
Brad runs his hand through his hair. “Ava, I can’t.” He walked a few steps towards the den and added over his shoulder, “And you shouldn’t want me to.”
Then he was gone.
I sat alone for a few minutes feeling embarrassed and sorry for myself that my husband had turned down the opportunity to share a bed with me. I knew he was right. I shouldn’t even want to share a bed with him, but if not now, then when?
That night I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. With a huff, I sat up and threw back the blankets. Desperate for some sleep, I decided a glass of chocolate milk might do the trick. Maybe I’d even warm it. Tiptoeing to the door, feet barely touching the cool floor, I tripped on something at the foot of the bed and fell face first into the hardwood. A cool hand closed around my wrist, and I screamed.
“It’s me!” Brad said.
I clutched my chest. “Jesus, Brad. You scared the crap out of me!
“I’m sorry. Shit, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. What are you doing in here?”
“Sleeping.”
I looked over faintly seeing the outline of his makeshift bed on the floor from the light of the moon filtering in.
“I hope you don’t mind?” he replied sleepily.
Just as I was about to answer, Brad’s look darkened, and he took two big quick steps forward reaching out and grabbing me by the shoulders. My body went stiff, and if Brad noticed he either didn’t care or he choose to ignore it.
“Ava, you’re bleeding.”
Then I felt it. A warm thin trail sliding down the patch of skin above my top lip. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sp
rinted for the bathroom. Brad was right behind me, getting a washcloth from the closet while I stood at the sink, dots of red dripping onto the white porcelain.
“I’ve fucking hurt her again,” Brad mumbled softly behind me before he joined me at the sink turning on the cold water.
My blood instantly mixed into a swirl pattern, turning the water pink before vanishing down the drain. My body went cold, and I swayed slightly, hating the sight of my own blood.
“Whoa,” Brad dropped the washcloth into the sink basin and settled his hands on my hips to steady me. “Easy there.”