by Ivy Smoak
I needed the pills out of my system. They were messing with my head.
A knock on the door downstairs made everything slow down for a moment. Ben. He’d know what to do. I struggled down the stairs. I had been on my feet all day, and my ankle was starting to protest.
Part of me wanted to be sexy when I opened the door. I wanted Ben to rip my clothes off and take me on the kitchen floor. But none of that prevented my lip from trembling when I saw him standing on the top step with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of roses. He was real. His ocean blue eyes. The dimple in his cheek as he smiled at me. And he was as perfect as I remembered.
Above all else, he had become my friend. And at that moment, I just needed to know that I wasn’t alone. I threw my arms around the back of his neck instead of inviting him in. I wanted him to hug me back so hard that it hurt to breathe. But his hands were full.
Instead he kissed the side of my forehead. I felt the velvety rose petals touch the back of my neck as he hugged me the best he could.
“I missed you,” I mumbled into his shoulder.
His laugh was hot against my neck. “And here I was all day thinking you were never going to speak to me again. I was wondering if you found something in my house you didn’t like after all.”
“No.” I squeezed him even tighter. “I didn’t find anything weird at all. Although, that in itself was a little unnerving.”
He laughed again. “Aren’t you going to invite me in, doll?”
God, I wanted his breath on my skin all the time. And I wanted to hear him call me doll over and over again. “Of course.” I made myself unwind my arms from his neck.
“These are for you.” He handed me the flowers.
They weren’t ordinary roses. They were a soft orange with a little red on the tips. I had never seen anything more beautiful. “Thank you. Come in,” I stepped to the side. Before the neighbors see you.
I started looking for a vase and then froze. Seeing his gorgeous face had made me completely forget about my dilemma. “Ben, I almost forgot.” I turned back around and almost bumped into him. “I ate something that I shouldn’t have. Something rotten. How do you make yourself throw up?”
“Whoa. Let’s back up for a sec. What did you eat?”
“Something gross.”
“Then why did you eat it in the first place?” He smiled.
“Ben, this is important. How do you…you know.” I pretended to put my finger in my mouth.
He grabbed my hand. “Usually your body will force you to respond the way it needs to. If it was bad, you’d throw it back up.”
“I’m not going to sit around until I have food poisoning.”
“If you had food poisoning, you’d be sick already,” he said. “Maybe it wasn’t rotten.”
This wasn’t working. “I…” I didn’t know how to say the words. “It wasn’t food. I took these pills…”
His whole demeanor changed in flash. The smile on his face vanished and his body became rigid. “How many did you take?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Addy, how many did you take?” He pulled out his phone.
“Stop.” I grabbed his arm. “I didn’t overdose.”
He suddenly looked older. Wiser than a 23 year old should be. “Would you please just tell me what happened?”
“I didn’t want them. They forced me to take them. I don’t feel right. They’re messing with my head. I have to get them out of my system.”
“Who made you take them?”
“My doctor.” My husband. I wanted to tell him the truth. It felt like there was a weight on my shoulders that was too heavy to bear. “She’s forcing me to take them.”
He ran his palm along the scruff on his jawline. “Your doctor forced you to take pills? Most doctors suggest medicine…”
I walked over to the kitchen table and lifted up the bag from the pharmacy. “It was never a suggestion for me. She makes me take pills I don’t need, for issues I don’t have.”
“What issues?”
“Ben, you’re missing the point. They’re in me and I need them out right now.”
“Then drink some water and flush them out of your system. You don’t have to make yourself throw up.”
“I thought you’d want to help me.” I suddenly felt alone again. It didn’t help that he was looking at me like I was crazy. “I’ll figure it out myself.” I grabbed my phone and clicked on the internet icon.
“I do want to help you.”
I opened up the top article. The best way to make yourself throw up was to watch someone else throw up? That wasn’t going to work. Ben wasn’t going to be willing to assist me with that. I clicked on the next article. Your index finger easily triggers your gag reflex. I stuck my finger into my mouth.
“Addy, stop it. They’ll be out of your system by the morning.”
I shook my head back and forth. Why wasn’t this working?
He pulled my hand out of my mouth.
“Ben!”
“Stop it.” He looked pissed. “Please, just stop for one second.”
“I have to do this. They’re making me crazy.” I stepped back from him. “They’re trying to make me think I’m insane.”
“Your doctor? I’m pretty sure it’s her job to help you. Not convince you that you’re crazy.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand. It’s not just her.”
“Then who else is it?”
“Everyone!” Everyone was out to get me.
“I’m trying to help you. If your doctor is giving you prescriptions you don’t want, then go to a different doctor. I’ll drive you myself. We’ll figure it out.”
“It doesn’t matter who I go to. They’ll just do whatever he wants. He controls everything.”
“Who?”
“My husband!” That wasn’t the way I wanted to tell him. Whatever we had was over just as quickly as it started. I finally told him the truth and he just stood there silently. I watched him shove his hands into his pockets and I quickly turned my head away.
It was fine. I was used to being alone.
But that was a lie. It wasn’t fine. It hurt. He was supposed to say something. Anything. I pushed my finger back in my throat, harder than before, and instantly gagged.
I ran to the bathroom and threw open the lid on the toilet just as the contents of my stomach came back up to haunt me. And I enjoyed the burn. I enjoyed the hurt. Because pain was the only emotion I had felt in ages before Ben. It was the only thing that reminded me that I was alive.
I felt his presence in the bathroom. I didn’t understand why he was still here. He was supposed to run away. I was married. I was a monster.
He sat down next to me on the bathroom floor and gently rubbed my back. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He wasn’t allowed to be kind in the face of my cruelty.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “What are you still doing here?” The fingers of my other hand gripped the edge of the toilet bowl. “You don’t have to stay.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his hand running up and down my back. “They thought I was your husband at the clinic. You were wearing a wedding band and engagement ring at the civic association meeting.”
I didn’t have anything to say. I thought I had been so smooth.
“There were tons of signs, but I convinced myself that you were going through a divorce or something. You’re always here alone. You never mentioned him.”
Because I’m an awful person. But how I wished those things were true.
“But none of that really matters. I knew. It was easy to put together. I knew and I kept pursuing you.”
I sat back on my heels. It didn’t seem like anything else was going to come up from my stomach. I just had to suffer through this goodbye instead. “I get that. The chase is fun. And I was unobtainable. You can go now. I’ll be fine.” I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t.
“That wasn’t what I was saying.”
“
Really, Ben. You’re a good guy. You didn’t even make a mistake. I lied to you. No one has to know about this. We never even did anything but kiss. It’s not a big deal.” I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth out in the sink. He waited for me to turn off the water before he spoke again.
“You’re not getting it.” He lightly banged the back of his head against the wall. “I can’t seem to stay away from you, Addy.”
I finally got the courage to look at him. He was in pain. I was causing him that pain. But I didn’t know how to fix it. And honestly, I didn’t want to. He couldn’t stay away from me. Wasn’t that what I wanted?
“Why did you ask me to come tonight?” he asked.
“Because I don’t love him.”
He sighed and slowly stood up. “So you’re using me to get back on him…”
I shook my head. “That’s not it. I don’t care what he thinks at all. I tried so hard to stay away from you. I have. But I feel it too. I can’t stop. I’m pretty sure I’m addicted to you.”
He smiled, but it was sad. “So what is this?” He gestured back and forth between us. “Just fun for a while?”
I shook my head.
“I’ve told you what I’m looking for. But you never told me what you want. Are you planning on leaving him?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It seems pretty simple to me.”
I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.
“I know I should leave.” He sighed. “I know it, but I can’t make myself walk out that door.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re still gorgeous even when you just forced yourself to puke. How is that possible?”
I laughed.
“This isn’t funny.” But he was smiling too.
We stared at each other in the small bathroom. Him being here didn’t make sense. Me asking him to come made even less. But here we were.
“You’re right, it is simple,” I said. Getting a divorce wasn’t. That wasn’t the only way to part ways with my dear husband, though. There’d been another way this whole time. It had been calling to me. For years it had been calling.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I know it’s more complicated than just one question. And despite how much I like you, I don’t want to break up your marriage.”
“It’s already broken.” I couldn’t divorce my husband. I couldn’t leave. But I could kill him. “I’m going to end things with him. But I need some time.” My plan would need to be flawless. Good enough to kill him and good enough to get away with murder.
Chapter 26
He didn’t ask me how much time I’d need. He didn’t say anything at all. All he did was help me out of the bathroom.
I silently watched him go through my pantry. It wasn’t like he could find anything in there that would reveal anything else about me. He knew. He knew I was married and he was calmly going through my things.
He handed me a ginger ale. I didn’t ask for a cup or ice. I was just grateful to get the vile taste out of my mouth. I downed the soda as he watched me.
Say something. I certainly didn’t know what to say to him. I was asking him to have an affair, for Christ’s sake. The silence stretched between us.
I excused myself to brush my teeth. Not one word in the past 15 minutes besides for my exit from the kitchen. We were at an impasse. I spit out the toothpaste and brushed my tongue for the tenth time. I needed to fix this. The only way was to tell him the truth. He needed to know just how bad my marriage was. Because my marriage wasn’t based on love. It was simple, really. My husband owned me.
But how much could I tell Ben if I wanted him to stay? I needed him. It was wrong, but I didn’t see any other way. I’d tell him enough. Just enough so he’d be on my side. Just enough so he wouldn’t leave me.
I splashed my face with cold water. Ben already knew I was married and he wasn’t running. Maybe he wouldn’t leave if he knew everything.
No. I grabbed a towel and wiped off my face. No one could know the truth. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place. I’d kill my husband and my skeletons would die with him. I’d live the rest of my life in peace at last. As tempting as it was to confide in someone, the stakes were too high.
I walked down the stairs, cursing under my breath each time my hurt ankle held my weight. If I kept running around it would never heal. For once in my life I needed to stay still.
Ben looked up when I walked into the room. His cell was pressed to his ear.
And for a moment I thought he found something. I stopped, terror running through me. I had been so desperate to get into his basement. Had he been equally eager to get into mine? Unlike his basement door, there was no key required. Just a simple sliding lock.
He said my address into the phone.
I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself. They were going to take me away. “Ben, please…”
He hung up the phone and looked up at me.
God, it was too late. I didn’t want to go to jail. I was only just learning what it was like to be free.
“What?” he asked. There was humor in his eyes. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Who were you calling?”
“I ordered us some food.” He set his phone down on the kitchen table.
My hand released the doorframe and I sighed in relief.
“You should be sitting down and icing your ankle. And your shoulder. Do they make full-body ice packs?” He walked over to the freezer to examine the options.
“I think what we should be doing is talking about this.” I gestured back and forth between us.
He grabbed two ice packs and turned back to me. “What do you want me to say, Addy? Do you want me to ask where you two met? When you had your first kiss? How he proposed?” His voice was strained. “I don’t want to know any of that.”
I couldn’t make myself move. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean? All I care about knowing is if he’s going to come in that door and try to beat the shit out of me. Otherwise, I don’t need any specifics.”
That was exactly the problem. Ben’s words made it hard to breathe. Every time my husband came home, he beat the shit out of me. But for Ben? It would be so much worse. What was I doing? I’d told Ben as much of the truth as I needed to. He was supposed to run away. He was supposed to save himself. But he hadn’t left. And now I held the power to save him. I couldn’t afford to repeat my past mistakes. I had lost sight of that in the face of his beauty and warmth. “I think you should go.” The words made me want to vomit again.
He lowered both his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Addy, I didn’t…”
“Really, it’s better if we put a pin on this until my marriage is over.”
“No.”
No? I repressed my smile. He was fighting for me. How was I supposed to turn him away when I had no one else on my side?
“And I do have questions.” He walked toward me. “Why does he force you to take pills? How long have you been married? What caused your miscarriage? Why did you say yes to his proposal in the first place? And why, Addy, why does talking about him make your hands shake?” He grabbed my hands in his to steady them. “I want to know none of it, but all of it at the same time. Tell me whatever you want. I’m not going anywhere.”
He's been hurting me. I’m terrified of him. And I’m so scared for you. Instead of saying anything, I buried my face into his chest. He didn’t know it, but he was putting his life on the line for me. I breathed in his grassy scent. Combined with his embrace and the softness of his flannel shirt, I felt a wave of calmness surround me. “We should probably sit down.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do.”
I laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward my family room. It was the one room in the house that didn’t feel so cold. It was also the only room that didn’t have tan walls. One week when my husband was gone, I had painted the walls a seafoam green. A very light seafoam green. So pale that it was
really almost white. My husband had never noticed. It was a silent act of rebellion. It seemed fitting to talk to Ben in here.
We sat down on the couch, him on the opposite end. His distance was unsettling, but it was better like this. If his arm was slung over my shoulder while I talked, it would have been harder. He probably needed the distance as much as I did. I turned to face him, putting my legs up on the couch between us. I didn’t know where to start, so I adjusted the ice pack on my ankle.
I awkwardly cleared my throat. “My husband and I have been married for ten years. I thought I loved him for maybe…two…” I quickly met Ben’s eyes. “Two months. Not years.” My throat was dry and scratchy. “And even that? Looking back on it, it felt forced.” It didn’t feel forced at the time. But it was easy to look back now and know. Easy to see the signs. Because I knew it was all a lie.
“So why did you marry him?”
I shifted in my seat. “My mother raised me with the idea that I needed to marry up. That all I had going for me was my looks. That I was worthless unless I was some stupid trophy wife.” Resentment bubbled up in my chest. “She was furious at me for going to college. But I wanted more. And I loved school.” I smiled. I could still remember the classrooms. The smell of chalk and the wooden desks.
“What did you study?”
“Psychology.” I swallowed down my laugh. I knew it was ironic that I was the patient and not the doctor. My life had taken a horrible turn. But it was all my fault. There was no one to blame but myself.
I cleared my throat, shoving the bitterness aside. “My mother got sick during my sophomore year. We didn’t have much. I was paying for college through student loans and a waitressing gig that barely paid for books. Her medical bills were astronomical and it got to the point where she couldn’t even afford the medicine to help with side effects of treatment, let alone the treatment. I was drowning in debt.
“Growing up, I hated my mother. She never understood me. And she certainly never wanted me.”
