by Q. B. Tyler
The house is eerily quiet and I wonder if my mother has been knocked unconscious because I haven’t heard her ear-piercing scream in the last few minutes. I stand slowly and breathe a quiet sigh of relief when I don’t see Michael in the room. Hot tears pour from my eyes, sliding down my cheeks and fall from my face. It’s so quiet, I can even make out the faint noise of the drops hitting the hardwood. Maybe if I can just make it to the door I can go for help… My memory flashes to the sweet man from the restaurant. Matthew-something? The man with the kind eyes and sweet smile that I feared knew the truth. He knew what was happening to me. But why did he care?
I tiptoe across the living room, careful to avoid the spots where I know the floorboards creak. My hand is around the doorknob when the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. The tears spring to my eyes as I realize I’m not alone.
“Where do you think you’re going, little girl?”
“Mich—ael…” I stutter. “Please don’t hurt me,” I beg. I beg for mercy, for relief, for—my life.
“Where you gonna go, huh? The cops?”
“No—I wasn’t,” I plead as he spins me around and slams me hard against the door.
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he slurs. He raises the bottle of the clear poisonous liquid to his lips and takes a long sip. “You’re not going anywhere.” He points behind him. “Upstairs.”
“But…”
He grabs me by my hair and shoves me toward the stairs. “Move it.”
I begin to move when he grabs my arm and a pain shoots through it making me feel as if every bone is shattering into a million pieces. The pain is so overwhelming, it makes my stomach turn and the bile rises in my throat. For a moment, my vision blurs, large black spots appear in my periphery as the trauma takes over my brain. I plead with myself not to fall asleep. To stay conscious. Who knows what will happen if I pass out? He grabs my arm again and I scream. The pain shooting through my arm is unbearable, and in this moment, I know that my stepfather has broken my arm. I hear a crash upstairs and I pray that my mother is stronger than I am. It’s the only way we will survive this.
Matt’s fingers lace with mine, bringing me back to the here and now and I’m grateful for the interruption of my hellish trip down memory lane—even if the hand belongs to the wrong man.
“She was able to sneak out and she called me. I still remember the pain in her voice. How quiet and scared she sounded. It broke my heart. She sent me her location and I found her down the street from her house leaning against a mailbox because she was too weak to stand.”
I couldn’t believe how quickly Matt found me. How willing he was to leave the comfort of his home in the middle of the night to help a woman he’d just met. I swear we were just getting off the phone when a silver Honda appeared in front of me and the kind man from the restaurant scooped me into his arms. I don’t think I spoke for the next day and a half.
“I took her to the hospital immediately. That bastard had broken four of her ribs, her arm in three places, and she had a bruise on her left eye to match the one on the right.”
He shakes his head as the tears continue falling down my face. “There was no way I could let her go back there. Two days later, the police arrested him. My uncle was, and still is, the chief of police so we moved quickly. The trial…everything. I’m fairly certain he somehow convinced the judge not to let him out on bail until sentencing. I begged Charlotte to testify and she did, as did her mother.”
It didn’t take long for me to fall for my knight in shining armor. For the next few weeks, Matt rarely left my side. It helped on the nights that I woke up screaming in fear. Despite the fact that I hardly knew Matt, he let me stay with him as the memories of what Michael had done came flooding back every time I stepped foot in my house. I knew he was gone, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was—everywhere. Matt did everything and then some to ensure the safety of my mother and myself. There was nothing I could do to express my gratitude to this man that had ultimately saved my life.
I can hear Matt speaking, but the words are all muffled. I see his lips moving but it’s like I’m underwater. I hear nothing. I take a deep breath and try to bring myself out of the past just in time to hear Matt explain my biggest source of anxiety: Michael’s release from prison.
“And even with all of the testimonies that stated that her bruises and hospital visits started when she was fifteen, indicating that she was a minor when it all began…even with all of that, that asshole only did twenty-four months. When he got out, I wanted to kill him. He had written her letters from jail telling her to watch her back and Charlotte was a nervous wreck every minute. We immediately filed a restraining order but she was still looking over her shoulder. The nightmares had come back full force. I hated seeing Charlotte go through this, but there was nothing I could do. Nothing made her feel…safe. So, I began to keep very close tabs on him. I followed his every move. He’s not allowed within a few states of Charlotte or her mother and, as of yesterday, he’s somewhere in Virginia.” He sighs and I believe he’s finally done shining the light on all of the skeletons in the closet. “I may not be the best husband, but I would die to keep her safe and she knows that.”
I blink several times as I try to bring my mind out of the dark. I don’t know if it’s his words, hearing the story recounted for the millionth time, or the fact that he’s said all of this in front of Will who is undoubtedly hurt that I didn’t tell him, but I’m wrecked. He pulls his hand from my grasp and wraps his arms around me, pressing a kiss to my temple and I feel terrible that Will has to witness this. My eyes flit toward him as he stands and walks toward the door. My heart sinks when I watch him disappear through it, closing it firmly behind him.
Shit.
“Charlotte, he’s gone. It’s just you and me,” Matt whispers in my ear before placing another kiss on my forehead. I know he’s trying to comfort me, but I really wish he’d stop kissing me, especially in front of Will. “That story never gets easier.”
“He should come back, I’m fine.” I wipe the tears away with the tissues that Matt has placed in my lap.
“You sure? I could feel your agitation the whole time I was talking. You spaced out a few times too. I know you were trying to disassociate. Are you okay, sweetheart?” I blanch slightly, but I don’t think he notices. Matt rarely uses terms of endearment unless we are in mixed company and it’s for show.
“I haven’t had a moment like that in a year or so. I’m fine.” I nod, willing to say anything for Matt to call Will back into the room. But what then? It’s not like we can talk in private. I rub my forehead, wishing that for once my life didn’t feel so complicated. Matt rubs my back, not understanding the whole reason why the tension is coming off of me in waves. My thoughts are interrupted by a low buzzing noise. My eyes immediately find his jacket knowing that his phone is hidden in his pocket. “Just answer it.”
He shakes his head. “We’re in therapy, and after that, I’m not taking a phone call.”
“It’s fine. Just take it.”
He looks at me for a minute before taking out his phone, and his eyes widen when he sees the screen. I already know his next words. “Shit, Charlotte, I do need to take this. I just need five minutes.”
I shrug. “It’s fine.” I give him a small smile. The truth is, it is fine. I need to see Will and it is the only thing my mind is focused on at the moment. And if I can’t be with Will then I want to be alone.
“I’m sorry.” He tells me as he stands in a hurry and presses the screen as he attempts to catch the call before it disconnects. He kisses the top of my head and then disappears through the door.
I wonder how many times I’ve said the word “fine” in the past twenty minutes. Who am I trying to convince? Matt and Will? Or myself?
I watch Matt leave the office, shut the door, and I’m left by myself. I reach for my purse, attempting to grab my Blackberry to call the man I’ve needed for the past half hour but the door opens stopping me in my
tracks. Will stands there and I hold his gaze. I know I only have a few minutes but there is so much I want to say.
“I was going to tell you.” I can’t escape the tears that well in my eyes. I’m so overwhelmed by the events of the past hour and now the man I hope will hold me and take the pain away is less than ten feet away from me.
But my husband is still twenty feet away.
“When?”
“It’s not something I tell a lot of people anymore. The people who know…they know because they were there. They were a part of my life when I was twenty. It’s just not something I discuss with everyone.”
“I’m not just anyone,” he argues. “I’m your therapist. How did you and Wells not tell me this months ago?” He crosses his arms and regards me warily as he pushes off the door and makes his way across the room.
“You’re my therapist now?” I say looking at him with tears in my eyes.
He clears his throat and I can tell he’s fighting with himself about whether or not he should touch me. “In this moment, I am. Wells has a similar story?”
“Yes, his father was a drunk. He died when Matt was in high school. His abuse started much earlier though. When he was five or so. Stopped when he was about fifteen after Matt kicked his ass.” I sigh. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I didn’t know…”
“No, I didn’t know. Do you think I would have made that comment about the angry husband breaking the table if I did? God, Charley, I triggered you,” he says rubbing a hand through his hair.
“No, you didn’t. Matthew did. I honestly didn’t think about it the same way Matthew did. Because I know how the table broke. I thought…I thought you were calling yourself my husband.”
“I was.” He sits back in his chair across from me and leans forward. Expecting Matthew back any second, he keeps his distance. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is low and pained, as if he’s going through the same range of emotions. “Did you think that I wouldn’t protect you?” He pauses for a second before he continues. “I guess that’s only a job for your husband. Someone I’ll never be.”
I furrow my brows as I try to keep the tears at bay. “That’s…that’s not true. Yes, Matt got me through some really dark shit but—”
“I always knew there was something you weren’t telling me. I was hoping you would open up to me that first time. I even asked you if there was something you wanted to tell me. Did you think I wouldn’t protect you? That I wouldn’t do whatever Wells has been doing and then some?” The thought warms me. He wants to protect me as fiercely as Matthew has.
“Will—”
I hear the door open and I immediately close my mouth when a contrite-looking Matthew walks in. He kneels in front of me, completely ignoring Will who has leaned back in his chair. “We should go, I’ll take you home.”
“Why? Besides, my car is here.”
“I have to go back to the office. Evidently, I’m flying to Oklahoma tonight. I have a nine a.m. meeting tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He looks down at his watch. “It actually works out better that your car is here, but are you sure you’re okay to drive?” I try to ignore the look Will is giving Matthew from behind his back, but in my peripheral vision, I know he’s shaking his head at my husband’s complete lack of empathy in this moment.
Not that I’m craving it from him anyway.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” There’s that word again.
“Might I suggest you at least follow her home?” Will says.
“I’ll be okay,” I say shooting him a cursory glance. Let him go, so we can finish talking. “I don’t want to drive right now, anyway. I might go for a walk.”
“Okay. You know you’re safe here right? He can’t hurt you. I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Okay, I’ll be home around six before I leave. You’ll be there, then?”
I nod my head. “Yes.”
“Okay, I’m sorry to do this, Charlotte.” He kisses the side of my head, and then he’s gone.
Will and I sit in silence for a few moments holding each other’s gaze after Matt leaves. Now that he’s gone, the words have escaped me. I don’t even know where to begin.
Will stands up after a few moments before he leaves the office.
Where is he going? Did he really just leave without saying anything? My teeth find my bottom lip and my nostrils flare as the tears that have been threatening to fall for the past five minutes begin to brim under my eyelids. Will’s office feels as if the temperature has dropped twenty degrees and goose bumps break out over my skin. A shudder runs through me in response, and I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to warm and comfort myself.
After a few minutes Will comes back, locking the door behind him. “I have no words,” he says as he makes his way over to his bar. “Do you want a drink?”
I narrow my eyes curiously. I know that nothing could possibly comfort me like his arms around me. “No. I want you.” I hold my arms out, desperate for him to join me on the couch. My body is fiending for his touch, but so is my heart.
He takes a sip and eyes me over his glass. “Yeah, of course you do.”
I frown at the sarcasm in his voice. “What does that mean?”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Charley?” he asks quietly. “Don’t you trust me?”
Immediately, I feel guilty. Why didn’t I tell him? “Of course, I trust you. I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you.”
He crosses the room, closing the space between us and takes a seat next to me on the couch. He gently turns my face to look at him and traces my lip with his thumb. “How could anyone hurt you?” He closes his eyes as his hand continues to trace my face, my eyes, my nose, my cheeks. “I would kill anyone that touches you.” He says it so quietly that I don’t think it was meant for me to hear.
I press my hand gently over his, which is pressed against my cheek. “Will, I should have told you sooner.”
His eyes close for a moment and when they open they are much colder, immediately worrying me. “This is just who I am in your life…the guy that makes you come, that makes you feel alive, that makes you happy. You fool around with me, and I make you feel good, and then you go back to your husband who makes you feel safe. You get to take a vacation from your life three times a week. God, I’m like your pool boy.” He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous metaphor.
“That’s not true,” I say immediately. “That’s not who you are to me at all.”
“Then what am I? I’m clearly not the man you trust to keep you safe. That you feel so loyal to that you won’t leave. I’m not the one who’s supposed to protect you.”
“I…I didn’t know you wanted to be that person. You never gave me any indication that you wanted more. You telling me to leave my husband in the midst of fucking because you’re trying to lay your claim over me is not the same thing and you know it.” I stand up, needing to put space between myself and Will. I struggle between the feelings of wanting him to hold me and not wanting him to touch me at all due to this recent shift in attitude. After everything that’s happened in this past hour, he’s really bringing this up, now? He doesn’t say anything, as the weight of my words hang in the air between us. “And now you’re learning that I have baggage. Baggage that I was going to tell you about the second we had longer than three hours at a time together. Two of which you’re usually inside of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Trust me, part of the reason I was crying is because you had to see Matt and me, like that.”
“Why? Charley, that’s normal.”
“I didn’t want you to see Matt…touching me.”
“I hated that,” he says simply. “But it’s bigger than that. You needed contact and I couldn’t be that person. I’m not that person.”
“But you are that person. I needed you.” I’m silent for a second. “I need you now.” I sit back down and slide off my shoes. I try to move into his lap when he puts a hand up to stop me. “Charley.”
The rejection is stifling a
nd I can’t seem to get air into my lungs fast enough. “What?”
“I think we should talk about this without touching each other.”
“I don’t see what one has to do with the other. Can’t you see that I need you right now? Or do you still have it in your head that it’s not your job?” I scoff, trying to convey how upset I am but I fear it’s coming off as bitchy sarcasm.
He runs his tongue over his front teeth and nods once. “Is that why you can’t leave him?” he snaps bitterly. “Won’t leave him?” He sighs after a few moments of my silence. “Because of what you’ve been through? I’ve seen it time and time again people associate—”
“Stop,” I interrupt him, “don’t do that. I’m not your patient right now. I’m Charley, the woman you fucked on a broken coffee table two hours ago. You can’t be my therapist right now,” I say softly. “I need you to understand… I met Matthew when I was at my lowest.” I swallow as the tears begin to slide down my cheeks. “He saved my life and for a while I felt indebted to him. But I also loved him. Maybe a part of me always will. He made me feel safe and secure. I don’t worry about Michael coming after me.” I stop, wondering how to put into words the thoughts that are constantly running through my mind.
I’ve fallen out of love with my husband but the thought of leaving him terrifies me.
“But things changed, Will. Matt changed, I changed. But was I going to sacrifice feeling safe from the monsters under my bed? Maybe I wasn’t in love with him anymore but…maybe I could live with that. Because what would happen if I left Matt? Would he come after me? If he did, he’d kill me this time, Will. He’d finish the job he started that night.” I sniffle as I try to keep the tears at bay. “If I was no longer under Matt’s protection then what would happen to me? You’re right,” I whisper. “I was complacent… I am complacent.” I shrug. “But I was okay with that, if the complacency kept me alive. Even when I threatened to leave him last year, I’m not sure I could have really done it. I know you think it’s about the money…it’s not. But it is about the protection that Matt’s money has provided me and my mother. Maybe that makes me weak. Or stupid. To stay with someone when you’re not in love with them, but it was okay. It was fine. Then I met you, and suddenly it wasn’t fine anymore. Everything changed.” I take a deep breath, relieved that I’ve gotten all of that off my chest. I look at Will who’s staring at me intently. “Please say something,” I say after a few moments of deafening silence.