by Rena Olsen
Chapter 29
As soon as we were back in the house, Bryce turned on me, shoving me against the door.
“Where were you today, Julia?” he demanded, his eyes wild.
“I went for a drive,” I said, my voice small. I didn’t know why I was lying to him. He obviously knew where I’d been, but some protective instinct kept me from admitting it. Belatedly I remembered that one of his hobbies was to check in on the location of my phone. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless.
He slammed me against the door again, and I saw stars. His hand came around my throat. “Like hell, you lying bitch. Where. The fuck. Were you?” With each word, he slammed my head against the door again. My vision swam.
“Bryce, I—” I gasped, finding it hard to focus, hard to breathe.
Releasing my neck, he gripped my arm in an iron vise and dragged me up the stairs. He threw me at the chair, and I missed, tumbling to the ground. He didn’t move to help as I levered myself up, trying to climb into the chair while my head continued spinning. When I’d finally seated myself, he stepped forward, bracketing my body with his hands on both arms of the chair.
“Let’s try a different question and see if you can get that one right.” Backing away, he picked up the stack of letters from the desk. “Where did you find these?”
The words seemed to catch in my throat, but I forced them out. “In one of the boxes I went through when you moved in.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve had these for over a year and you never thought to mention it?”
There was no good response, so I just shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I said, though little sound came out of my mouth. Tears streamed unchecked down my face, and my entire body ached.
“Did you go see her?”
I nodded. “I just—”
“I told you I didn’t talk about my past, Julia. I asked you to stay out of it. And you couldn’t, could you? You just had to go and stick your nose where it didn’t belong, didn’t you?”
I just stared at him, not sure what sort of answer, if any, he wanted from me.
“What was it like? Was there still dog shit everywhere? Was good ol’ Ma taking care of her latest live-in? Were they screaming at each other? Did it smell like an armpit? Do you feel sorry for me now, Julia, growing up like that? Do I have your pity?”
“No, Bryce, I—”
“I don’t want your fucking pity!” he yelled. “Bruce doesn’t exist anymore. I left him behind. He’s dead. You should have left him that way.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Did she tell you about the guy? What happened the night I left?”
My wide eyes told him all he needed to know. He laughed, then swooped in close, rolling the chair back until it hit the wall.
“Does it frighten you to be married to a murderer, sweetheart? Does it make you shudder to think that these hands that have been all over your body were also used to take a man’s life?”
My head wobbled back and forth, a denial. “It was an accident,” I said, my voice small, wavering.
He laughed again, louder this time. “Is that what she said? I suppose it looked that way. Maybe it was an accident. But make no mistake, dear wife. I wanted him dead. And then he was.”
Bryce walked over to the table and picked up the card with the shelter name on it. “Were you thinking of leaving me, Julia?”
“No,” I said. “Never. Dr. Leeland—”
“Ah, the bitch doctor gave it to you. Of course. But why’d you keep it? Why not toss it right away if you had no intention of using it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I just . . . I don’t know. I should have thrown it out.”
He smiled and pulled a lighter from his pocket. Picking up the letters, he held the lighter to the edge of the top envelope and the ancient paper immediately caught, the fire greedily moving down the stack. Bryce threw the stack in the metal trash can, the card following closely behind. He watched it for a few more seconds, then turned to me. “Better put that out,” he said. “I’d hate for you to get burned.”
Without another word, he turned and walked from the room. I listened to his footsteps descend the stairs and head into the study. Only then did I move. I ran on unsteady feet to the bathroom, filled the bathroom trash can with water, and came back to dump it on the fire. Once it was out, I closed the door to my parlor, locked it, and slumped against the wall, sobbing.
* * *
—
I ached when I woke up the next morning. I’d fallen asleep in my parlor, and the chaos around me when I opened my eyes brought on a fresh wave of tears. I couldn’t look at the mess, or the ashes that were all that remained of the letters, so I slipped out of the room and closed the door behind me. The house was silent, and I couldn’t even hear birds singing outside. It was as if every living creature in the vicinity mourned what had happened the night before.
When I entered the bedroom, I was surprised to see that the bed looked slept in, at least on Bryce’s side. He’d left it for me to fix, which I did, automatically. I passed the mirror and realized that I was still filthy from the day before. I stripped out of my clothes, not bothering with a hamper. They would go straight into the trash. A bath had sounded good the night before, but I just wanted to get clean, so I stepped into the shower and turned it on as hot as I could handle it, scrubbing every inch of my body, wincing as I came across sore spots.
Stepping out of the shower, I examined myself in the mirror, noticing the shadowy spots that I’d hoped were dirt, but which hadn’t washed off in the scalding water. Bruises from head to toe, with distinctive finger bands around my neck. I chose my outfit carefully to cover up the bruising, including a lightweight scarf.
I wasn’t surprised that Bryce hadn’t cleaned up the food from the night before; nor was it a shock to see that my car keys were once again gone, along with my phone. I cleaned up the Chinese food and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I’d been on autopilot this morning, but I needed to figure out what to do now.
Bryce could come home tonight completely normal, or on another rampage. There was no way to tell. His pattern would suggest that he might sulk for a while but then go back to normal, and if I stayed in line, he’d have no reason to flip out on me again. But hard as I tried, I always seemed to do something wrong. And now that I knew the full extent of where his anger could lead . . . I shuddered.
Not for the first time recently, I longed to talk to my mom. She didn’t even know about the baby yet. If I could just talk with her, mother to daughter, maybe I could sort things out. Maybe I would tell her everything about our relationship, maybe not. But I needed her.
Rising from my chair, I walked over to the pantry and pulled out the flour container. Reaching into the white powder, I felt around until I found the plastic baggie. I dusted it off before opening it and pulling out a spare key for my car. I’d had it made after Bryce had taken my keys the last time. Not to disobey him, but in case of an emergency. Today, I deemed going to see my parents as an emergency, consequences be damned. Besides, if Bryce had my phone, he couldn’t track me anyway. I’d be there and back before he even knew I was gone.
When I pulled up in front of my parents’ house, I didn’t hesitate before launching myself out of the car. It didn’t occur to me until I was ringing the bell that they might not be home, but my fears were short-lived as the door swung open. My mom’s expression changed from surprise to delight as she recognized me and immediately pulled me into a hug. I melted into her arms, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as she held me. I wasn’t sure how long we stood there like that, rocking back and forth. My dad, hearing the commotion, found us like that and soon his great big arms surrounded both of us.
A while later, my mom had settled us at the table and was making waffles. “You look so skinny, Jules,” she said, and it had been so long since anyone had used my
nickname I closed my eyes in pure pleasure at the sound. “You need to eat something.”
“I eat, Mom,” I said, smiling. This was what I needed, what I’d been missing. How had I let Bryce keep me from this for so long?
I asked my dad about his job, which he’d started working part-time in preparation for retirement, which was how he happened to be home today. We made small talk while Mom loaded me up on waffles before coming and taking the chair next to mine.
When I’d eaten as much as I could, Mom took my hand. “What’s going on, Julia?” she asked. “We never see you or hear from you anymore. We miss you.”
“I miss you guys, too,” I said, a lump forming in my throat. “And I want to try to see you more, especially since”—I looked down, rubbing my belly—“you’re going to be grandparents again.”
Mom stared at me for a moment, and then her entire face lit up. “Oh, Julia! Sweetheart! I’m so excited for you! When are you due? Boy or girl? How did Bryce react?”
I answered her questions as best I could. It was still too early to tell most of those things, other than the due date. January. I avoided her question about Bryce, but she was perceptive.
“Julia? How are things with your husband?” she asked.
She was so sincere, and in that moment I was ashamed. I couldn’t tell her how badly things were going. I couldn’t confess that my husband berated me and critiqued everything I did and occasionally used me as a punching bag, and that it was okay because the Bible said I had to be a good wife. It sounded ridiculous even in my head.
“Things are fine,” I said, raising one shoulder. “The first year had its rough moments, but we’re working on it.”
Mom studied me, as moms do, and didn’t seem to believe me, but as she opened her mouth to say something, the doorbell rang. I knew even before I heard his voice that he was here.
“Julia! There you are!” Bryce followed my dad into the living room. “I came home for lunch and my lovely wife was missing. Plus, she forgot her phone at home,” he said, waving my phone at me. “Pregnancy brain, right? Thank goodness for GPS on your car.” He grinned at my parents, turning the charm on high. “I’m assuming she told you the great news?”
“Yes, Bryce,” my mother said, rising to give him a hug. “Congratulations!”
He glared at me over my mother’s shoulder and made a slight movement with his head, making it clear I was to come to him. I stood and walked over to them, and Bryce quickly pulled me under his arm. “We’d hoped to share the news together, over dinner, but our schedules are just so crazy.”
My dad crossed his arms over his chest. “Seems to be a problem a lot since you two got married.”
“We’ll definitely try to do better,” Bryce lied. “I’m going to work fewer hours at the firm now that we have an addition coming. Family is first, after all.”
“Please do,” Mom said. “We miss you.”
Bryce looked at his watch. “I’m sorry to steal her away, but I only have a short time left for lunch. Is it okay if we leave Julia’s car here? We’ll pick it up later.”
“Of course,” Mom said.
“Julia, give them the key in case they need to move it.”
Taking a deep breath, I fished the spare key from my pocket. I was the only one who noticed the slight narrowing of his eyes as I handed it to my dad.
Reaching out, I gathered my mom into another hug. “It was so good to see you. I love you, Mom.”
“Come back soon, okay? Or at least call.”
I nodded and turned to my dad. “Daddy, I love you.”
“We’re always here for you, Jules. Anything you need.”
“I know.”
And then Bryce was tugging on my arm and the door was closing between me and my parents, and I had no idea when I’d see them again. Bryce led me to his car, opening the passenger door for me before rounding the hood and sliding behind the wheel. I waved at my parents through the window and we drove away.
“That was risky, Julia,” Bryce said after we’d driven a few blocks. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I told them about the baby. That’s it.”
He scoffed. “Really? You make a copy of your car key and go running to your parents at the first sign of trouble and I’m supposed to believe you weren’t trying to escape?”
“I wasn’t,” I said, and sighed. “I still want to make this work, Bryce. I just wanted to talk to my mom. You never let me talk to her.”
“Because she’s an outsider. She doesn’t understand how our family works. She wouldn’t have been able to give you the help you need. If you need to talk to someone, I’ll have Nancy come over.”
“I can go see her at the church.”
“No. I’m dropping you at home and I’ll have Nancy stop by.”
Fuming, I stared out my window. The transparent reflection staring back at me was of a stranger, and in that moment, the fight left me.
“Whatever you think is best,” I said, and his gaze whipped to mine, surprised flickering across his face. “But maybe she could come by tomorrow. I have some cleaning to do, and then I’d really like a nap.”
He didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive home. I considered myself lucky to have escaped an angrier tongue-lashing, but it seemed he believed me about not telling my parents the details of our fights.
Before I got out of the car back at the house, Bryce leaned over, pushing my hair out of my face and kissing me softly on the lips. “You know I only want us to be happy, right? Everything I do is for us and for God.”
I nodded, my hand on the door handle.
“I’ll have Nancy stop by tomorrow. If you make a list of groceries we need, I’ll have someone bring them to her to drop off with you.”
Apparently I wouldn’t be going anyplace anytime soon.
“Okay,” I said.
“I’ll bring something home tonight. Maybe we’ll try Chinese again?” He winked at me, and I gave up trying to figure out his moods.
“Sounds good.”
“Take it easy today, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He waited until I’d entered the house and closed the door behind me before driving away.
* * *
—
Bryce did have my car picked up from my parents’ house later. Someone picked it up and drove it to a storage facility one suburb over. “For safekeeping,” he said.
It was no longer clear who he was trying to keep safe.
The water is a deep red now, but still she remains submerged, only head, toes, and rounded belly breaking the surface. She rubs a pruney hand over her swollen abdomen. This is for the child. She couldn’t bring a baby into this life. It wouldn’t have been fair. He would have found a way to control the child the way he controlled everything in his world. Even if it hadn’t been part of his plan, he would have reshaped their child the way he had reshaped her. It would have grown to be just like him, the beauty on the outside masking the danger within, like Snow White’s poisoned apple. It’s better this way. They’re all better this way.
PART VI
BREAKING FREE
Chapter 30
Time passed, and we fell back into a pattern of sorts. My body had healed, but my spirit was completely broken. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. In public, Bryce was the doting husband. After church every Sunday, he walked me to the Reverend’s house, where I waited for them to finish with the Gathering. He led all conversations with other members of the congregation, and I smiled and nodded, taking my cues from him. I learned how long I could keep a smile pasted on my face before excusing myself for a moment. I was never allowed to get far from Bryce when there were others around.
At home, Bryce was in a better temperament. It helped that I didn’t question him anymore. I didn’t have the energy. I understood that my vital role
was to be the best wife to Bryce that I could, to keep him happy. He’d returned my phone, but with all the numbers erased except a select few, and Internet access disabled.
Most days, I spent the morning cleaning the house and working out, trying to keep myself from gaining too much baby weight. In the afternoons, Nancy often stopped by for a visit, or I was allowed to walk the three blocks to the library, as long as I kept my phone on me and let Bryce know when I was going, though Bryce had made sure Vanessa revoked my computer access while I was there. I still participated in reading with kids sometimes, but mostly I went to the religion section, as I had for months, and read through commentaries. I’d branched out to researching other religions, though I was careful about that, knowing that Vanessa reported back to Bryce. But she rarely bothered me, and at least it got me out of the house.
Dinners were full of Bryce telling me all about his day. In some ways, he was more open with me now that he had complete control over me than he had ever been before. He finally trusted me enough to open up to me fully. It was ironic. I learned that my husband was as ruthless in his job as he was in our marriage. He represented any number of shady things going on within the church, and laughed over the deals he was able to make. That was how he’d won the case that had threatened to expose the Reverend and the Gathering the last time. They’d gotten dirt on the guy and leaned on him until he caved. In fact, he was back attending the church again, though not part of the Gathering. And that wasn’t the first time they’d used their considerable influence to get out of sticky situations. It became a game for me to figure out just how to react to keep him talking about each person, each case. I filed all the information away, though I wasn’t sure why. I had no one to tell.