Holding Aces

by Nikki Groom

  “Natalie … please, let me in. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry ...” he begs.

  Hearing his pitiful voice through the door brings back memories. Only this time it doesn’t fill me with fear.

  It makes me determined.

  This is not going to happen to me again.

  I know he probably feels terrible, and if I gave him the chance he would apologize a thousand times to ease his guilt. He would beg and plead and promise that it would never happen again. He’d make it up to me with jewelry and a weekend break.

  I know.

  I’ve been here before.

  But I don’t feel sorry for him. I know I lied, but I didn’t deserve that. “Go away,” I manage to say, still staring at my reflection.

  “Nat, just let me in ...”

  “I said GO AWAY ...”

  I hear his footsteps walk away, and the loud bang of the bedroom door slamming makes me jump. My legs suddenly feel very weak, and my head is spinning as a wall of tears builds in front of my eyes, threatening to spill at any minute.

  The fear, the shouting, the feeling of helplessness … it’s emotional overload and too much for me to take. I lower myself to the floor in a heap and curling up in a little ball, I tuck my knees tightly to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Then the tears start to fall freely, and I let them, not holding anything back. I begin to acknowledge that the last three months have been chipping away at my self-imposed armor and reduced me to the girl I used to be all too familiar with, the place I thought I’d never go again, the life I tried so hard to avoid. I might have changed my name, my identity, but the path my life is taking seems set to test me.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been crying for, but when I lift my head up and open my eyes it’s dusk outside. My shoulders are tight and my chest aches from my body wracking sobs. When I stand up and straighten my body out, every muscle is protesting and my head pounds as I look around me at the evidence of the earlier argument. Flicking on the light switch, I survey everything with a stark realization. Everything feels so much worse in the dark but looks so much worse in the light. Resting my hands on either side of the bathroom sink, I look into the mirror, staring at my reflection and acknowledging the feeling of resignation that is setting in. My eyes are swollen and red and it stings every time I blink. There are trails of black mascara that have mingled with blood and dried in smudged lines down my cheeks. This was a face that I had seen many times before, a distant, broken look that I hadn’t ever wanted to see again.

  I can’t stay here.

  I can’t stay married to Aaron.

  I never truly believed this would be a permanent arrangement, and I was stupid and weak for letting myself think that what we had could possibly become real. Jesus, the guy didn’t even know my birth name ...

  Happily ever after was never a possibility.

  When I first met Aaron, I was beginning to build up my confidence, embracing my independence and finding a semblance of peace within myself. But being married to him just took me back far too close to the place that I had been before. I know it wasn’t premeditated on Aaron’s part; he didn’t try to change me or break me down intentionally, and that was the scary thing. Without even trying he’d managed to weaken and manipulate me.

  I know what I have to do.

  It’s fight or flight and we have been fighting for far too long.

  Unknowingly, Aaron has given me an out. He gave me the perfect reason to leave.

  Splashing cold water on my face soothes the heat I can feel surrounding my eyes. I’ve cried out every last tear left in my body and there is nothing left to give. I feel nothing now. I’m empty, devoid of feeling any emotion other than annoyance at myself for letting this happen again. The cold water awakens my skin and spurs me on to what I know is the next step in rebuilding my life.

  I clean up the cut on my cheekbone and wince at the sting that comes from my touch. It’s superficial and will heal fairly quickly. It may not even leave a visible scar.

  Just an addition to the invisible scars I carry.

  I open the bathroom door quietly and slowly, taking in the mess that surrounds me. I listen for any signs that Aaron might be here, but there is nothing but silence and a heavy air around me. I look out of the bedroom window and note that Aaron’s car is gone. Relief washes over me. I know I might not have long to get out of here, but it’s better than facing him. I throw on some clothes, and drag a big suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and I fill it with as many essentials as I can: handfuls of clothes, a few toiletries, and my sketch pads. My life, thrown together in a suitcase and packed up in five minutes flat.

  I wheel the suitcase to the bedroom doorway, willing myself to stay strong and forcing my feet to keep walking. I walk faster and faster until I run down the curved staircase, the suitcase hitting every step with a thud as I drag it behind me.

  When I reach the foyer, I pick up my purse. I don’t know how far away I can get with my credit cards before Aaron puts a stop on them to cut me off, or a trace on them to find me, but I have a separate account that Aaron thinks I’ve closed. I think deep down I knew it wouldn’t work out, so I kept my backup quiet while still putting a little away in savings.

  I take off my rings and leave them on the side table next to the front door so he will see them when he walks in. If he didn’t already know that our sham of a marriage was over, he will when he finds my rings there. I snatch up my keys, fling the front door open, grab my suitcase and flee. Pressing the button on the key fob, my Porsche Carrera blips and the lights flash to indicate it’s unlocked. I bundle my suitcase across to the passenger’s seat and I jump in.

  The wheels spin out of the drive and kick up a cloud of dust and dirt behind me as I glance in the rearview mirror at the house I am leaving behind.

  It is beautiful.

  But it was never home.

  AFTER DRIVING FOR A COUPLE of hours, I can feel my eyes closing, and I don’t want to risk falling asleep at the wheel, so my safest option is to stop somewhere for the night and take it from there.

  I pull off the highway and into a motel. It looks rundown, but it’s the last place Aaron will come looking for me. He’ll expect me to go to a high class hotel, with full room service and every luxury available. If Aaron has taught me anything, it’s that extravagance doesn’t make me happy. Money was something I had never had a lot of, so in the beginning it seemed like all my dreams had come true.

  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  I shut the door behind me and glance at my room for the night. A solitary single bed, one pillow and a small pile of sheets and blankets. I haven’t slept in a single bed since I was seventeen.

  I feel like I’m constantly going backwards …

  The patterned carpet is psychedelic patterns in what I can only guess should have been red and yellow but now looks more like shades of browns, and threadbare in the places that suffer the most footfall. An armchair in the corner and a nightstand next to it are the only other furnishings and they are well worn and used. The lamp on the nightstand has no lampshade, making the light harsh and casting obscure shadows around the walls. I actually think this room might not have been updated since 1975.

  I drop my suitcase and throw the keys onto the armchair in the corner. It takes four steps across the small dingy room to the bathroom door and I close my eyes as I push the handle, afraid of what I might find in there. Squinting them open, I turn on the light and I’m met with a very old bathroom suite but it’s clean and I’m pleasantly surprised. I shut the door again and let out a long exhale. As I sit down on the bed, the springs groan and protest with my small weight and a stale musky smell invades my nose.

  I glance at my watch. 10pm. I’m exhausted emotionally and my body has made its way down from the adrenaline high and feels twice as heavy to move as it should. I have no idea where I go from here, and my head is too weary to decide right now. Sleep, I need sleep. I’m hoping all will become clearer in the light of day.

>   I make the bed up with the surprisingly clean sheets and climb in fully clothed. My face throbs from the cut and I instinctively bring my fingers up to my cheek, touching lightly underneath the wound and recalling the events of the night. I never thought it would come to this. I just wanted to feel settled, like I belong somewhere. I just want to let my guard down and not have to keep up some sort of pretense.

  If this is what my life is going to be like on the run, maybe it’s time to think about taking some of my old life back. The scenarios running through my head exhaust me as I drift off into a surprisingly deep sleep.

  My back aches and my face throbs.

  I open my eyes just a fraction and snap them shut again. When the sleep mist clears and I work out what day it is and why I’m here, I groan. I don’t know what’s worse, my dreams or reality. I sit up and swing my legs out of the bed, cringing a little as my bare feet hit the not so clean carpet. I take a deep breath, stretch my arms above my head and go for a shower.

  The scalding water beats down on my body, and with every minute longer that I’m in here, things become a little clearer. I have to satisfy myself that I haven’t lost the girl I was just because I have a different name. Natalie isn’t a fictional person; she’s me. I’m still me.

  I’m sick of this.

  Running.

  Fighting.

  Always looking over my shoulder and having to think before I speak for fear of revealing who I really am.

  This is my life and I’m taking it back.

  I dress, put on some makeup, and then pack up my things. After leaving the keys at the front desk, I head for my car. It’s crazy that my front seat is more comfortable than the bed I spent last night in; comfort really does come at a price.

  When I turn on my cell, it’s flooded with incoming messages from Aaron.

  His messages start off frantic when he’s realized I’ve packed up and gone. He’s obviously sorry, telling me to call and to let him know where I am, telling me how important I am to him, how he loves me. However, he doesn’t take long to change from worried, apologetic husband to angry and demanding.

  When I’ve listened and deleted all of the voicemails and texts, I ring the one person I actually want to speak to, hoping that her number hasn’t changed in the time that I’ve been gone.

  My insides shake with anticipation and excitement as my fingers fumble with the numbers. The familiar warm voice answers on the other end of the line.

  “Hello ...”

  I’m overwhelmed with emotion at hearing her voice. “Mom?” A sob rises up from my chest and escapes my mouth.

  “Baby girl, is that you?” she asks in disbelief.

  “Yes, Mom, it’s me ...”

  The floodgates open and we both sit there, on opposite ends of the line, crying tears of happiness at hearing each other’s voice. It doesn’t matter that I’ve spent most of my childhood looking after her, picking up the pieces after each failed marriage and being her strength when she was weak. It wasn’t until I had spent so long away from her, unable to contact her that I realized we had always been each other’s strength.

  She’s the only family I have.

  “Where are you, my girl? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, it’s just … I’ve missed you so much, Mom.”

  “Darling, every day I’ve hoped you would call. I knew why you didn’t, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to hear your voice.”

  “I would have called you sooner but … you know ...” I’m so choked up I can hardly speak.

  “I wished every day that you would.” Her voice hitches, full of emotion.

  “Mom, please don’t get upset.”

  “I’m sorry, darling, but not knowing if you were happy or even where you were …”

  It was hard for me to be away from her with no contact and I’m just glad that she has her husband Brent. I knew she was in safe hands with him. I hadn’t even begun to think how she felt seeing her child go through all that, only to be left not knowing where or how I was.

  “Well, there are few things that I need to get worked out, but it isn’t going to be like this for much longer, I promise you that.” I sound more determined now, even to my own ears.

  “Why? What’s going on? Do you need my help? Is there anything I can do?” She speaks fast wanting to do something after feeling helpless for so long.

  “I just need to know … have you seen him?” I can’t even bring myself to say his name out loud. That name would feel like poison to my tongue.

  “No. He came to the house once after you left. He was angry, frantic, and he yelled ...” her voice trails off.

  “Mom?”

  She sighs. “He beat Brent up. He thought we knew where you were.”

  My stomach sinks. I didn’t think it would put them in that position. I didn’t think about anything. I just knew I needed to leave. “Oh god, Mom, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Was he okay?”

  “Yes, he was sore for a few days, but it was mainly superficial. I think he realized we didn’t know anything. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  “Nothing? He hasn’t been around Boulder City?”

  “Nothing at all. No one has seen him.”

  “What about his offices?”

  “I’m not sure, darling, I was just pleased we had seen the last of him. You want me to find out?”

  “No, no, it’s fine. I don’t want any waves made ...” I trail off as I think about what to do next. “Mom, I know this is going to be hard, but can you forget we’ve even spoken today? Just don’t say anything to anyone, not even Brent.”

  “But he’d be so happy that you’ve been in touch … are you coming back? I really don’t think there’ll be a problem anymore, honey ...“

  “I don’t know. Honestly, I think he will probably have just moved on but until I know how the land lies, I want to be safe. I want you to be safe. You know how it was.” I say this, but she didn’t know the full extent. I kept so much from her. “I want to come back, I really do, but we’ll see. Please just give me a few days.”

  What if Jonny’s moved on to another poor girl who doesn’t get the opportunity to leave? What if …

  I can’t. I can’t think that way. Self-preservation.

  For now.

  “Okay, if you know what you’re doing.”

  “Not yet I don’t, but I will.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I smile. She always said that to me as a child and she’s right. I am her girl, even at twenty-six years old.

  “I love you, Mom, I’ll call soon, okay?”

  “I love you too. Stay safe.”

  When the phone disconnects, I sit there for a whole minute and look at the screen. Just a short conversation with my mom and everything seems so much clearer. I have to work out a way to go back, a way to be near to her. She is my only family and she feels like my calm in the storm. I’ve wasted enough time running away, and I’m not the person I used to be. I’m stronger for everything I’ve been through, and with family in my corner I’m sure I can get through anything life throws at me.

  Where to go from here? I’ve been driving in the direction of Boulder City knowing I can’t go there just yet, but I need to be close. I take a deep breath and dial the only other number I know, hoping it hasn’t changed since I last called it. When she picks up, I smile.

  “Hello?”

  “Got time for a dirty martini, party girl?” I open our conversation with the greeting we always used to use. Her usual reply doesn’t come though.

  Radio silence.

  “Lottie?”

  “Three years … it’s been three fucking years since you called me ...”

  “I know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry … stuff happened.”

  “Don’t give me that shit. Your control freak motherfucker of a boyfriend happened.”

  “Lottie—”

  “No, don’t you ‘Lottie’ me. He didn’t like me so you chose him.” My heart breaks a little that
she thinks I would do that.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No? So how was it? He got bored and now you want your friend back?”

  “Lottie! Stop being a bitch, you know it was never like that,” I say before dropping my voice to a whisper “He—”

  “He what? What did that motherfucker do?” Her tone changes to protective. She’s the stereotypical redhead—sharp, hot headed and fierce!

  “I need some help, Lottie, and you’re the only one I trust to help me.”

  “Don’t change the subject, young lady! What did he do, and what can I do to help? You know I’d do anything for you, babe,” she adds softly.

  I’ve missed her straight talking.

  I’ve missed her loyalty.

  I’ve missed her friendship.

  “I’ve missed you, Lottie.” I hope she can hear my smile down the phone.

  “I’ve missed you too,” she says quietly before taking a breath. “Right. Now that we’ve got the sappy shit out of the way are you gonna fill me in?”

  She hasn’t changed one bit. Straight to the point, no messing.

  “Yes, but not over the phone. Do you know of anywhere close to Boulder City that I can stay? A hotel or something?”

  “Stay with me,” she states.

  “I can’t. I mean, I just don’t think it’s wise. Not yet.”

  “Okay.” She pauses. “My boyfriend’s brother owns a hotel on the Vegas Strip. Head there. I’ll sort it and text you with details,” she says firmly.

  “Perfect. I owe you one, Lottie.”

  “Yes, you do. Call me when you get there. I’m going there in about an hour anyway, so I want to know the minute you arrive.”

  “I promise.” I know she is going to have a fit when she sees my face, but there’s not a lot I can do about that now. I’m just pleased she hadn’t been around to see me before I left Boulder City.

  We say our goodbyes and hang up. After speaking to the two people I hold dearest to me in the whole world, I’m happy. I turn the music up and open the windows, letting the wind blow away some of the weight that has been holding me down. I smile to myself and sing along with the music.