The Truth in My Lies

by Ivy Smoak

  He leaned forward, until his lips almost brushed against my ear. “I’m far from perfect. You’re just not looking hard enough.”

  I gulped.

  “I’ll be back down in a minute. Have fun looking around.” He walked away without another word.

  Maybe he wanted me to get into the basement. My fingers itched to try to break into it again, but I didn’t want another disaster. Looking through drawers was one thing. Picking a locked door was another.

  I couldn’t even believe he wanted me to stay. Although, he had been in my house while I showered. He had probably looked around. He had at least looked around enough to know that my trash needed to be taken out. He wasn’t as good at avoiding temptation as he claimed.

  As soon as the water started upstairs I pulled the tongs out of my pants. I was just about to wash them when I heard my phone buzz.

  I lifted it out of my purse. Ten missed calls. What the hell? Twenty text messages. A knot had formed in my stomach before I even clicked on the most recent text. It could only be from one of two people. And both would be bad. It was from my husband.

  “Don’t make me come find you.”

  The blood in my veins turned to ice. I scrolled back to the first text.

  “I have a layover. I’m stopping by for a few hours so we can get lunch.”

  Shit! I shoved my phone back into my purse. He was home and I wasn’t there. He was going to kill me. But I couldn’t let him find me here. I wouldn’t let him hurt Ben too.

  But I couldn’t just leave. Ben would come down from his shower and wonder what was wrong. He’d come to my house. I grabbed a slip of paper and a pen from my purse and jotted him a quick note.

  Ben,

  Something came up. I’ll be back later. Thank you so much for the best first date ever.

  -Addy

  I ran to the door and cringed. His tongs were still on the kitchen counter. I didn’t want him to put butt tongs back in his drawer. And I didn’t have time to wash them. I went back to the kitchen and stuffed them in my purse. He stole my sneaker, I stole his tongs. We were even.

  I grabbed the note I had left him and added my number to the bottom. Just in case he needed to reach me. Hopefully he’d call me instead of showing up unannounced. I was already in enough trouble.

  Chapter 21

  I paused before opening the back door of my house. My only play here was to pretend I hadn’t seen any of his calls or messages. I turned off my phone and shoved it back into my purse. The back of my hand brushed against my engagement ring. I pulled out my two rings and slid them on. The diamond glinted in the sun, teasing me into thinking it was beautiful. But it wasn’t. It was hideous and so was everything it represented. I unlocked the door and prayed he was in a good mood.

  He was pacing the floor. His cell phone was pressed to his ear and he was yelling into the receiver. His other hand was waving in the air frantically. When we locked eyes, we both froze.

  Me in fear.

  Him? I had no idea what was wrong with him. But something was definitely wrong. And I had a feeling that it actually had nothing to do with me.

  The silence was unnerving. I wanted to turn around and run. I wanted to disappear into the woods and never be found. But I couldn’t move. “You’re home.” I plastered a smile on my face. “What a wonderful surprise.”

  “Never mind. She’s home,” he said into the phone and tossed it onto the table.

  In two steps he was right in front of me.

  I closed my eyes, expecting the worst.

  He wrapped his arms around me, leaving a trail of kisses from my jaw to my neck. “I thought something happened to you, babe.” He took a deep breath, like he was breathing in my scent in order to remember it for eternity. The thought was haunting.

  I tried to step back, but he wouldn’t release me. “Why? Have you been home long?” The scent of him made me gag.

  “Hours.” His arms wrapped tighter around me, suffocating me.

  “I’m so sorry. I went for a walk. Why didn’t you call?”

  He took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair. “I did call. I left dozens of voicemails and texts. I was so worried.”

  “What? I would have heard it.” I pulled my phone out of my purse. “Oh, no.” I put my hand on my forehead. “It’s off. Something in my purse must have bumped the power button.”

  His sigh was heavy. I was terrified he wouldn’t believe my lie.

  He went to the fridge and opened up the freezer. “You have a twisted ankle. What on earth were you doing walking around for hours? Sit down, Adeline.”

  “It’s a mild sprain. And I was growing restless. I needed exercise. It’s hard to be cooped up in here all day when I’m used to running in the mornings. I must have lost track of time.”

  He pulled an ice pack out of the freezer. “Sit. Down.”

  I sat down in one of the kitchen stairs and took my boots off. He watched me the whole time. Assessing me. Analyzing me.

  “I drove around looking for you. I didn’t see you out walking.”

  “I was walking in the woods.” It wasn’t a terrible lie. It’s not like he knew I was scared of the rustling of leaves in the wind. Or the shadows that lurked in the darkness.

  “The woods.”

  I watched his face as he let the thought settle. He believed me. I took a deep breath.

  He placed the ice pack down on my ankle. “You missed your last appointment with Dr. Nash.” He didn’t look up at me. He kept his gaze on my ankle. Like he cared.

  “You called my psychologist?” That was unacceptable. “We had a deal.”

  “You were missing, Adeline.”

  “I was hardly missing. I went for a walk. I needed fresh air.”

  “Regardless, we had a deal too. You promised you’d go to your appointments. Fortunately, she has an opening in an hour.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Why? Because you’re done taking your pills? You think you don’t have any problems? News flash, Adeline, you’re a mess. Who goes walking in the woods for hours on a sprained ankle? You’ve lost control.”

  “I haven’t lost control. I needed fresh air. You can’t keep me in this house!” I was panting. He had pushed all my buttons. On purpose. I could tell because he looked happy by my outburst. Like I had just proven to him just how out of control I was. But I was completely in control. And all I could think about was the fact that he said I was done taking my pills. Had he looked for them? Did he really know that?

  “It’s for your own safety. Look what happens when you leave.” He gestured to my ankle.

  “It was an accident.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust your word on that?”

  “Yes. Trust me. I haven’t done anything wrong. Please.” I reached out to him, but he took a step back.

  “Okay, I’ll trust you. In the spirit of mutual trust, how long have you been off your pills, Adeline?”

  “I’m not. I’ve been taking them every day.” I didn’t know how to tell the truth anymore.

  “Bullshit. You haven’t been going to your psychologist and there are no pill bottles in your drawer.”

  “You’re not allowed to talk to my doctors.”

  “I’m the one paying for them!” He stepped back up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. Right where he knew I was hurt. Right where he had hurt me. “How long have you been off your medicine?” His fingers dug into my bruises.

  “I haven’t…”

  His fingers dug in deeper.

  “Seven days! I haven’t taken them for a week.”

  He released his grip.

  “I’m sorry. They were making me sick.” I was already blubbering. “I couldn’t think straight. I…” my voice trailed off as I watched him pull something out of his back pocket and set it on the table.

  “And what’s your story about these?” He removed his hand.

  My bottle of birth control tablets was sitting there, staring at me, mocking me. Why hadn’t I th
rown them away? I didn’t need them anymore. It was a careless oversight. As was throwing out my other prescriptions. I should have kept the bottles. Of course he’d look. He had no respect for my privacy.

  “They’re old,” I said.

  “I called the pharmacy. It’s new enough for you to still have refills available.”

  “No…” I let my voice trail off. What was the point in lying anymore? He had caught me. “You said you wanted kids. I can’t…” I was losing it. I was becoming the crazy person he thought I was. “I will not have your children.”

  “Get dressed.”

  “I am dressed.”

  “You know what I mean. Something more appropriate.” He waved his hand dismissively.

  He meant a dress. Like the gawkers wore. I would never be one of them. He couldn’t mold me into something I wasn’t meant to be.

  “We’re leaving in ten minutes,” he added when I didn’t move. “And if you say one more word, I’ll make that phone call and we can put this conversation on hold for a few months.” He dumped my birth control pills in the trashcan.

  He was trying to fire me up. He wanted to send me away again. But the joke was on him. I didn’t need those pills anymore. The shot I had gotten would prevent anything with his genes from growing inside of me.

  I stood up, letting the ice fall from my ankle. He could go to hell. I’d tell my psychologist everything. He’d be in jail before dinner. He was fucking done. I was done holding onto his secrets. I was done protecting my past. Done. I didn’t care what happened to me. It was time to end him.

  Chapter 22

  My hands were fidgety. This woman brought out the worst in me. Our sessions usually ending in one of two ways. The first was with me screaming and getting kicked out. She pried and pried. The second was I just refused to talk to her about anything and she poked and prodded until our time was up. My life wasn’t her business. The only reason I came here was to appease my husband. I didn’t need a shrink to tell me about my problems when they were so abundantly clear. And I definitely didn’t need to rehash the past. It belonged buried.

  “Please take a seat,” Dr. Nash said.

  I sat down, eager to be able to hide my hands. I placed them between my thighs. She’d pounce on the movement and try to force more medicine down my throat. This whole session would be focused on a nervous tick when I needed it to be focused on my confession. It was time. I had the evidence I needed. This had to work. “I need to tell you something.”

  “What made you miss your appointment earlier this week, Adeline?”

  She never listened to me. She had so many questions, but never cared about my answers. Today she needed to care. “I didn’t think I needed to come anymore. I was feeling better. I’ve been great actually. Really great.”

  “Better? Describe what that means to you.” She held her pen in her hand, ready to analyze me.

  I didn’t have time for this. “I need to tell you something. I’m in danger. My husband…”

  “Your husband told me that you went walking today and lost track of the time. You were wandering around in the woods for hours. How were you feeling then? Great? I feel like you must have been scared. Your hands are still shaking.”

  I shook my head, pressing my thighs together to further hide my hands. Stop shaking. “That was a lie. I wasn’t walking. And that isn’t what I need to talk about. My husband…”

  “He’s very concerned about you. I understand that you haven’t been taking your medicine. And I have to be honest with you Adeline, I’m concerned too.”

  “Dr. Nash, please listen to me. I’m in terrible danger.”

  “Your psychosis flares up when you abruptly stop your prescriptions. We’ve talked about this numerous times. And if you ever were to go off your meds, we’d need to wean you off slowly. Stopping like this wasn’t the right way. And in my opinion, you shouldn’t be stopping at all. This medicine makes you better. It’s been working so well. You’ve been happy.”

  Happy? Was she high? And we had never talked about this before. Stopping my prescriptions had never been an option. Or I would have stopped ages ago. Every time I came here I seemed to get more and more pills, never less. “They’ve been numbing me. I’ve been having trouble remembering.”

  She leaned forward in her seat. “Remembering what?”

  I hated that I was giving her what she wanted. “Remembering that I have evidence.” I shook my head, trying to push aside the doubt on her face. “A whole box of it. It’s under my bed.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “It’s what you always say. But the pills don’t numb you. They help control your outbursts. And your rage.”

  I don’t fucking have rage! I bit the inside of my lip. I didn’t. And why was she focused on that one thing? Didn’t she hear me? “The evidence is…”

  She held up her hand to stop me. “I know. It’s under your bed. I’m doing my best to help you move on. But you don’t want to talk about that night. How do you want me to help you if you won’t talk about it.”

  “It doesn’t matter!” It felt like I was choking on the air around me. Slowly suffocating in Dr. Nash’s stupid office.

  “It does matter, Adeline. Talk to me.”

  “It doesn’t! What’s done is done.” Why? Why couldn’t she move on? I had. “I need your help now. I don’t need to talk about the past. He’s hurting me now.”

  She jotted something down in her notebook. “Who’s hurting you?”

  “My husband. He’s been abusing me. Mentally and physically.”

  She sighed. “Adeline.” She said my name like I was a child. “We’ve talked about this too. You know that…”

  “We haven’t talked about this!”

  “I have records. You’ve brought this up numerous times to distract yourself from your past.”

  “That’s not…” I pinched my fingers on the bridge of my nose. It wasn’t true. I had never opened up to anyone about this before. “You’re lying.”

  She leaned forward. “Do you need me to show you the records?” She flipped to another page. “April 17th, you said that your husband had caused bruising on your left thigh. You claimed to have all of the evidence in a box under your bed.” She flipped to another page.

  No. I shook my head.

  “January 23rd, you said your husband had broken your elbow. And that you had all the evidence in a box under your bed.”

  No, no, no! “I never told you that!”

  She flipped some more pages. “You first started mentioning this box right after you lost your baby. The first time you mentioned it, I went to your house, Adeline. We looked under your bed together…”

  “Stop lying! You’ve never been to my house. I’d remember if you’d been to my house.”

  “I have been to your house. I’ve looked for the box under your bed, just where you said it would be. It wasn’t there. The box doesn’t exist. You just mentioned that you’ve been having trouble with your memory. You admitted it yourself.”

  “Not about this, Dr. Nash. I have the evidence. There’s photos…”

  “I know.” Her voice was falsely soothing. Everything about her was fake. “And you always mention the box when you’re hiding from your past or something real is currently bothering you. Something completely unrelated to your husband. Is something bothering you Adeline? Have you done something wrong?”

  I’ve been seeing Ben behind my husband’s back. “No.”

  “Nothing at all? Nothing that would cause you extra stress?”

  I hated her face and her stupid soothing voice. She was judging me. It was like she knew I had kissed another man. Wanted someone that wasn’t my husband. “I sit at home all day doing nothing. What stress?”

  “This is important. We need to know what’s causing your outbursts. Please talk to me. Stress can make your medicine not as effective. Can’t you think of anything that may have altered your stress levels?”

  “I’m not crazy. You’re saying that I’m crazy. I hav
en’t done anything wrong.”

  “I never said you were crazy. But I know you’re making up the box. I know it has nothing to do with your husband. You’re hiding something.”

  “The only thing I’ve been hiding is the fact that my husband hurts me.”

  “Your husband loves you. I’ve never seen a more devoted spouse.”

  I pulled my cardigan off my shoulder to show her the bruising.

  She pushed the box of tissues toward me. “Your husband told me about your accident. You fell on your run, yes?”

  “And hurt my ankle. But he did this to me.” I pointed to my shoulder. “He pushed me into a wall. He’s been hurting me for so long. And I couldn’t tell anyone. There was too much at stake. But I’m tired.” I’m so tired. “I need someone to help me. He needs to be behind bars. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe.”

  She jotted something into her notebook. “Usually when we talk about this, something else is bothering you. You create this issue in your head to hide from the truth. What’s really bothering you, Adeline?”

  Usually when we talk about this? Screw her notes. We had never talked about this. Not once. I’d remember. I know I’d remember. The room was stifling. I was finding it hard to breathe. “I’m not…this is the truth. Aren’t you going to call the police? Or something?”

  “Does this have to do with you starting to take birth control? I thought you two were trying to have a baby. You’ve so badly wanted a child. What made you start taking those pills?”

  “My husband is a monster.”

  “You’ve had fertility issues in the past. Neither one of you is to blame for that. He’s not a monster. And neither are you. You’re human. Humans aren’t perfect. I know that’s what you strive for…”

  “I’m not blaming him for our lack of fertility. That’s not what this is about!”

  “You lost your baby, Adeline. But that was six years ago. You can try again now. It’s safe to try again now.”

  I couldn’t breathe. What kind of sick game was she playing with me? “I will never have his children. He’ll hurt them too. Just like he hurts me.”