by Amy Lynn
“I think you need to see a divorce lawyer,” she volleys back with tears in her eyes. “I’ll even pay.”
“Caroline. Don’t. You know I hate when people feel sorry for me.”
She hastily dries her eyes and physically composes herself. “I just hate to see you suffering,” she says as she caresses my unharmed cheek.
“I’ll get away from him soon and when I do, it’ll be forever.”
Hurrying home, I put the groceries away, and get dinner started.
Brad calls around 5:00 to check in on me. “You home?”
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. Where else would I be?
“I’m going to be late tonight. Don’t wait up.”
Then the line clicks, and he is gone.
Chapter 27
Ava
Tuesday
Brad is going to be late again tonight, and I couldn’t be more thankful. I eat alone, and I’m appreciative for the peace and quiet. Pouring a glass of wine, I call Caroline while I transfer his dinner to warming trays.
“Wow. That’s odd. You think he’s cheating again?” she asks.
Actually, the thought never crossed my mind. Brad was a sick, vile person, and I couldn’t imagine him veering off that path for a nano second, especially to entertain a woman for the evening. I laughed at her question. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Caroline said. “We couldn’t get that lucky.”
After my chat with Caroline, I journey upstairs to take a bath. The thought sounds so good, and it is something I have not done in quite awhile. As I run the water, I add some bath salts and essential oils and let the intoxicating aroma fill the air. The tub is still filling, and I slip out of my clothes and sink down into the water unable to wait any longer. The water feels delightful against my bruised skin, and I let it continue to rise until it covers my entire body. I turn off the water with my foot when the bubbles began to tickle my nose, and enjoy the peace and tranquility the bath has brought to my evening and allow my eyes to slip closed.
Suddenly realizing I have fallen asleep, I bolt upright. Brad is kneeling on the floor next to me with his arms resting on the edge of the tub.
“Relaxing?” he asks.
I shake my head rapidly. “I’m so sorry.” My brain is trying to put together logical excuses, and my lips are blocking them so I won’t have a repeat of this morning. “I…I don’t even remember falling asleep.”
He looks down at my body in the tub, and I follow his gaze. The water has gone cold and the bubbles have diminished entirely. “As much as I am enjoying this view, get dressed and come downstairs. We need to talk.”
He leaves the room, and I hear his footsteps retreating down the hall to the stairs. Has he found out I had been planning an escape from him? Surely if he has, he would have hauled me out of that tub by my hair and beat me within an inch of my life. I had no doubt he would if he ever found out.
I leap from the tub, dry off in a flash, and wrap myself in my white silk robe before bolting down the stairs.
Brad is sitting at the table eating the dinner I prepared and left in the warming tray. “Have you eaten?” he asks.
“Yes. I wasn’t sure how late you would be.”
He flicks his wrist. “Fine,” he says not meeting my eyes. “Sit.”
He eats without saying another word, and the suspense is absolutely killing me. I wring my hands under the table till they are nearly raw, and just as he is finishing off his last bite of steak, he finally speaks.
“Corporate is having a mandatory meeting with all of their financial advisors. I’m not going into detail because you won’t understand it anyway, but,” he huffs and takes a drink of his wine. “Friday, I’m scheduled to be in New York.”
My heart stops beating and as much as I want to jump up and down with excitement, I can’t celebrate yet. It’s happened before. I got excited, things fell through at the last minute, and I was devastated.
“You can’t get out of it?” I ask playing the role of concerned wife that wants her husband to stay.
“Ava, have you even been listening? I just told you it was fucking mandatory. Two days minimum. Maybe longer.”
Okay, he is really agitated tonight. Apparently, he isn’t so happy about leaving me alone while he is away. Perhaps he fears what might happen while he’s gone if he isn’t here to stop me. If he only knew.
“I’m sorry,” I say and reach out to touch his hand, but he jerks away before I make contact. Fine by me; I’d rather not touch him anyway.
“I’m going to bed,” he says pushing away from the table.
“I’ll clean up the dishes and be right up.”
Brad made it to the stairs before he turns around. “I made out the bills, and they need to be mailed tomorrow morning. Do you think you can remember to do that?”
“Yes. Of course.”
Brad stands there staring at me. A threatening stare that bores through me piercing me to my very core. I don’t want to know what was going through that mind of his, and after Friday, I could care less.
“Don’t be long with the dishes,” he warns.
I clean up the dishes at a steady pace. Not hurrying, but not at a snail’s pace either. I want to make sure Brad is good and tired and won’t want to make up for what we had missed Monday night. I don’t want to have sex with Brad, and I really don’t want to be tied to the bed and forced to either. Like most women, I need to be preheated a little, and Brad wasn’t the loving type these days, so sex with him was always rough. I’ve had some problems since the miscarriage, maybe even to the extent of being difficult to have children. Right now, I couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or not. I want children, just not with Brad. Maybe someday it will happen for me, and after tonight’s fantastic news, I think anything’s possible.
Chapter 28
Ava
Wednesday
I lay awake, staring at my alarm clock unable to sleep from the excitement that is bubbling over inside me. I make sure to stay in bed until the buzz of my alarm just like Brad had asked me to do a few days ago. “Next time stay, I hate it when you make me feel as if you’re trying to get away from me.”
The second it sounds, I hit the button and race downstairs to use the bathroom, wanting to avoid a repeat of Monday morning. I make coffee and set his cup on the counter making sure the lid is off.
“Ava?” I hear Brad call from the top of the stairs.
“Coming.”
I press his clothes while he showers and revel at how many days I have left to do this. When Brad emerges from the shower, I begin to dress him as I always did as his intense stare bores into me.
“You look different,” he bites out.
“I do?”
Apparently, Brad’s finely tuned radar picks up on hope and happiness, and he saw its return ever so slightly to my eyes.
“Huh, must have been that relaxing bath last night.”
Smoothing his shirt over his chest, I lift the collar for his tie, executing a perfect Windsor to his liking on the first try.
“I’m going to ask the guys today if any of them are bringing their wives to New York. I like the idea of having you with me. Much easier to keep my eyes on you…know where you are…who you’re with.”
I nodded. “Yes, that would be great.”
“Anyway, get my suitcases out today, and start my packing. I hate when you wait until the last minute. You always forget something.”
Downstairs, I sit at the table while Brad eats breakfast and checks his email. I should be off Brad’s happiness radar now as I begin to worry I might be going to New York with him instead of escaping.
“Fuck!” he says loudly, slamming his phone down on the table so hard I heard it crack.
“Everything okay?”
“Shut up, Ava.”
He closes his eyes and blows out a breath. “You’re driving me fucking crazy! This whole trip is driving me crazy!”
I sit in silence, too scared to do or say anything that will be the
push he needs to snap the rest of the way.
He grabs my hand and jerks me hard across the table towards him. His face is set in agony while his teeth grind together. “While I’m gone on this worthless fucking trip, I want you to stay your ass in the four walls of this house, and so help me God, if I find out you left to go anywhere for any reason, I will make sure you aren’t able to leave this house ever again for the rest of your miserable pathetic fucking life. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” I answer softly.
“Do NOT disobey me on this, Ava.”
“I won’t.”
He pushes me away forcefully, and I fall back into the seat of my chair. Gripping the bottom of the table, he lifts it and drops it swiftly,
moving it back a few inches. He pushes off from the crooked table, his chair banging against the hardwood loudly as it falls backwards to the ground. “Have my shit packed when I get home.”
He grabs his travel mug of coffee, and I am so grateful I filled it before I went upstairs to dress him. That could have been the trigger he would have needed to snap the rest of the way today.
“You’re lucky this was ready,” he says holding up the cup and reading my mind.
I jump when he slams the front door hard enough to rattle the pictures hanging on the wall. What the hell just happened? What did he read on his phone that had him so absolutely wrecked?
I shower and begin to pack his things so I will have all day to think about what he needs with less possibility of forgetting something. I entertain the idea of packing clothes that are too small, clothes that didn’t match, maybe forgetting socks or perhaps underwear. I can’t rule out the likelihood of my going with him just yet, so I unfortunately needed to be reasonable. After I finish packing, I walk around the quiet house, each room bringing back painful memories and sadly memories of my miscarriage. I want to be rid of Brad just as much as I want to be rid of those memories. There is nothing here that I want to keep from this life. Seems like bad Karma to bring things from my painful past into a bright new future. Soon, I hope I’ll be free of it all with a fresh new start.
When I think back on how much my life has changed in the six months since I’ve been home from Hawaii, I get angry with myself. I returned home wanting to work on my marriage simply because I felt like I had been given a sign with the pregnancy. While we took things slowly at first with Brad making little suggestions here and there, like quitting my job and the possibility of starting a family, it was all nothing but key manipulation. Once he had me under his thumb, the control started, followed by the verbal and physical abuse. I remember the horrible names he called me when I told him I had lunch with Mia…The time he forbid me to attend Caroline’s events because he found out Abram would be there…The one morning I had accidentally overslept and the next day, I was forcefully kicked in the back from the bed when my alarm sounded. I had unfortunately caught my eye on the corner of the nightstand requiring three stitches, which I now have to fill in with an eyebrow pencil. How could I let things get so out of control?
As I prepared dinner, my mind raced with endless possibilities, but I couldn’t forget his outburst earlier this morning. I only hoped he had a chance to calm down before he returned home.
“Ready to get rid of me?” Brad asks as he sits down for dinner spotting his suitcase by the front door.
“No. I was just trying to help you out that’s all. You have been working hard, and I thought it would be one less thing for you to worry about.” I don’t dare ask the question I really want to know the answer to. It wouldn’t look good now especially after what he just asked me.
His cell phone rings, and he quickly answers it. “You’re kidding. I can’t even have dinner with my wife? Come on!”
I pick at my food while buzzing with excitement. This sounds like it could be good news for me.
“Fine,” he forces out. “I’ll be ready,” he says as he ends the call.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouts. “These fuckers are relentless!”
He paces the floor like a lion stalking its prey. I know he’ll hit me before he leaves. I can feel his anger escalating, his dark mood thickening the air around us to the point of no return. He won’t be able to board the plane and be around his colleagues with all this pent up energy.
“I hope your dumb ass has figured out that my flight is leaving early. The car will be here in fifteen minutes to take me to the airport,” he says in a rush.
“I’m sorry.”
“Come here,” he demands.
I swallow hard bracing myself and go to him.
Before I can even think to react, not that I would, he throws my body up against the wall, pinning me tightly using his forearm to smash my throat and windpipe. “Do you remember what we talked about this morning?”
“Yes,” I barely manage to squeak out.
“Good. Don’t forget it, Ava. I want to know you’re home waiting for me, not out whoring around all hours of the night.”
I begin to feel light-headed from the loss of air and struggle against him for breath but he ignores me and continues, “All these guys at work don’t even know where their wives are half the time, but I do. They’re out somewhere spreading their legs for anyone who shows them the slightest bit of interest. But not you.” He grabs me possessively between the legs. “You are mine. Do you understand? You belong to me.” He smiles at my struggle and the suffering he is putting me through knowing I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a horn honks outside snapping him from his sadistic thoughts.
“Saved by the bell, Ava.” He kisses me hard and violently while he massages me roughly through my jeans. He pulls his fist back, punches me hard in the ribs, and lets me crumple to the floor. He spits at my body as I curl in the fetal position, grabs his suitcase, and slams the door leaving me on the floor clutching my side and gasping for breath.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone pressing Caroline on speed dial.
“Hello, my darling Ava,” she answers.
I try to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Ava!” Caroline yells into the phone.
My voice is gone as I try several more times to respond. After several attempts, I finally get something audible to come out, my voice sounding rough and gravelly and nowhere near my usual voice.
“Gone,” I force out. “Airport.”
“I’ll get my contact on him and make sure this isn’t some kind of ruse. I’ll be over as soon as I can. Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I manage to croak after several more attempts.
“Good. Try to stay calm. I’m coming,” she says and disconnects.
With oxygen filling my lungs nearly to full capacity now, I lay on the floor content with feeling my chest rise and fall with each steady intake of air. The floor is cold, and I can see the steam of my warm breath fog the tile beneath my face where I lay. It briefly disappears until I take another breath, fogging it all over again. I watch this over and over, trying to get control of my breaths.
My phone rings a few minutes later, and I press the button holding the phone close to my ear.
Caroline’s voice is like an angel. “Don’t say anything, just listen,” she says. “My contact is following Brad, and he’s heading to the airport. He’s in a company car with two co-workers who also had luggage. I think this is the real deal, Ava. If Brad were trying to trick you, I don’t think he would have involved his colleagues from work. My contact will stay with him and will inform us if anything changes. When his flight has departed, we’ll be notified. I’m on my way to you now. I’ll be there in a few minutes in a taxi so no one sees my car. Hang tight, Ava. I love you.”
Caroline opens the door a few minutes later and comes rushing in when she sees me still curled up on the floor.
“Oh my God, Ava!” she shouts as she runs to me, skidding to a halt and kneeling next to me on the floor.
“Where did he hurt you?”
“My ribs.” I rub my aching neck when my voice cracks. “Throat.�
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Caroline carefully pulls me to a sitting position allowing me to slowly adjust to the assaulting pain that accompanies the movement, and then to a standing one when I’m able. She raises my shirt and sees a blue and purple bruise forming just below the skin. “Bastard,” she says under her breath as she walks me to a chair in the living room and eases me down into it.
“Be right back,” she says.
I hear her clinking and banging in the kitchen, emerging about ten minutes later with an arsenal of things piled high on a tray. She gives me two aspirin and a glass of water, and I swallow them but not without difficulty. She wraps a warm towel around my neck and I close my eyes in delight at the instant relief it gives. An ice pack is pressed gently to my side held in place by a pillow between me and the armrest. She covers me with a blanket and pulls an ottoman over to prop up my feet. She kisses my forehead, and takes the empty tray back to the kitchen returning with two mugs of steaming liquid.