Her Choice, Always (A “Her Choice” Story)

by Megan McCoy

  “I need a burr coffee press. Have you ever heard of that? Ethan said he wanted one the other day, saw it on some infomercial or tv show or something. I want to surprise him with it for our anniversary next week,” Meredith was all but bubbling.

  “Anniversary? You haven’t been going out that long, have you?” Holly felt her head spinning. Who was this girl, all bright eyes and excited? She had never seen her before.

  “Six months, and they’ve been so wonderful. I adore Ethan. I hope,” she looked over at Holly with a flash of what Holly thought was her normal anxiety, “maybe he’s the one.”

  “Oh, Meredith!” Holly leaned over and gave her a big hug as they walked toward the restaurant door. “That is wonderful! I know he adores you. I can tell.”

  “Well, you can never truly tell about people or their relationships, now can you?” Meredith said slowly.

  “No, that’s true, but you can often tell who’s happy and who’s not but just getting by, I think.” Holly said. “Oh, you want to drive or do you want me to? I’m so excited! Let’s go find us some bargains!”

  * * * * *

  A few hours later they emerged from the huge store, arms laden with packages and smiles on their faces. “That was so much fun, thank you, Meredith. I had a great time.” Holly realized she hadn’t thought about Eric’s mysterious conversation all afternoon. Meredith was a blessing, all right.

  “We have some time before we meet the guys, want to go dump the bags in the car trunk and grab a soda or a drink?” Meredith asked.

  “Sure,” Holly said, feeling a bit nervous. Now was her opportunity to talk to Meredith, ask her about her relationship.

  Four minutes later, she was choking on her diet soda when Meredith asked, “Can I ask how things are with you and Eric? He seems a little… intimidating. Are you okay? Do you want to talk to me about anything?”

  OMG, Holly thought, dazed. Meredith wasn’t afraid of Ethan, at all. Meredith thought Eric was the abuser, and she was his victim.

  Chapter Five

  Eric and Ethan headed out of restaurant, after paying the bill for their brunch. They’d picked this place because of the good food and proximity to the golf course. All they had to do was walk out the back door and head down the path to the pro shop to make their tee time. They’d dropped their clubs there earlier that morning and couldn’t wait to hit the greens.

  “Been too long since we’ve played,” Eric said, as they climbed in the rented cart.

  “Tell me about it. All you want to do on weekends is hang out with your wife. She’s got you whipped, man.” Ethan laughed at him, and Eric grinned back.

  “I know it, and I love it. She’s one amazing woman. I sure got lucky. What about you and Meredith? Things getting serious? Do I need to rent a tux yet?” Eric asked, wondering how to ask what he wanted.

  “I don’t know. It’s a bit soon for a walk down the dreaded aisle,” Ethan said. “Think I might be asking her to move in soon, though. She’s already there half the time, anyway. No reason to pay two mortgages.”

  “That’s a big step, think she’ll go for it?” They climbed out of the cart and chose their clubs.

  “I think so. We get along well, the sex is great, she seems to like me well enough,” Ethan looked down at the ball.

  “She seems pretty jumpy,” Eric said mildly.

  “That’s only around you, bud,” Ethan said. “When it’s just the two of us, or most anyone else, she’s just fine. I know you haven’t seen it, but she’s funny and outgoing, and just a blast to be around.”

  “Why haven’t I seen it? Did I do something to upset her?” Eric was baffled. Here he thought Ethan was the problem.

  Ethan sighed, as they climbed back into the cart to go to the next hole. “Well, long story short, she was married once before, when she was a kid, eighteen, or nineteen. You know the story, got pregnant, got married.”

  “She has a kid? I didn’t know that,” Eric said.

  “No,” Ethan said sadly. “The guy beat the crap out of her and she lost the baby.”

  “Oh, wow.” Eric felt a sliver of shock go through him. Everyone had a story. Hers was dramatic and quite sad, it seemed.

  “Yeah, her dad got her a lawyer and they filed divorce papers before she got out of the hospital. Then she went to college, had a few relationships, but nothing serious again till me. I’m irresistible,” Ethan grinned.

  “Don’t I know it,” Eric grinned back. “So why do I blip on her nervous radar?”

  Ethan dropped his grin, and looked down at the ball again. “Well, according to her you put out this scary alpha male vibe… and I might have told her you paddle your wife.”

  “What! I never told you…” shock stole over him. So much for their well-kept and guarded private life.

  “I overheard you both a couple times. You aren’t as discreet as you think you are, and it’s sort of common knowledge. If Holly wasn’t obviously happy and over the moon about you, we’d be worried. But hey, we don’t judge.”

  Eric climbed back into the cart, his head reeling. “I’m the reason she acts like a scared rabbit? She thinks I beat Holly?”

  “I told her you didn’t, but it doesn’t seem to matter. You make her nervous, and she can’t help it.”

  “Shit. Holly sent me on a fishing trip to see if you were beating on Meredith, and now it’s all about me.” Eric shook his head. “I swear, well, yeah, I paddle her butt sometimes, but it’s consensual, and I never ever laid a hand on her other than that.”

  “Well, you are kind of bossy,” Ethan punched him in the shoulder.

  “I lived with you for twenty years. I had to learn to be,” Eric punched back. Then he shook his head again, and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I don’t know. Should I talk to Meredith? Have Holly do it?”

  “Brother, just think about it, they’re women. What the hell do you think they’re doing today? They’re talking all damn day, and probably about us.”

  Eric smiled weakly, “I guess that’s true.” He felt as if his world had upended. Did anyone else think he was beating his wife? This was not a good thing at all.

  He guessed he should be happy for Ethan, that he’d found someone and that they were happy together, but it bothered him she thought he was a brute. Was he? He suddenly thought of Holly whimpering about not wanting a spanking. Did she think he was a cave man who abused her?

  * * * * *

  “I need to talk to you,” Holly started, later as she and Eric were driving home.

  “I need to tell you something,” Eric said at the same time, and she noticed how white his knuckles were on the steering wheel.

  “You first,” Holly conceded to him, curious what Ethan had said to him. Apparently something.

  “Meredith thinks I beat you, that I’m some kind of abusive asshole. Have you talked to her about our… private life?” Eric said it tersely, tensely and she couldn’t remember hearing him this upset. She couldn’t blame him, it had to be a shocking thing to find out. Heck, she was shocked. She could only imagine how he felt.

  “No.” She said, flatly, quickly, decisively. No excuses, no lies. “Not until today, anyway. What did Ethan tell you?”

  “Ethan told me a bit about Meredith’s past, that her ex was abusive, and that she was hypersensitive to overly alpha males. Apparently, I’m overly alpha,” Eric didn’t smile, but Holly did.

  “I love your overly alpha self,” she reassured him. “I had a long talk with Meredith, and yeah. Found out, like I’m sure you did, that her ex beat the crap out of her, and not in a fun way.”

  “Put her in the hospital, I heard. The asshole,” Eric commented.

  Holly could tell he was upset on a personal level, but he was trying not to let her know. Luckily, she knew him better than that.

  “Yeah, that’s what she said. Then apparently she overheard something, or Ethan told her, I wasn’t clear about how she found out about you blistering my butt, and freaked out all over Ethan. I don’t know what all Eth
an knows about our relationship…” she trailed off, waiting.

  “He knows I’ve spanked your adorable ass a few times, and that I’m the supposed ‘boss’ in our relationship,” Eric quickly air quoted the word boss, before replacing both hands on the steering wheel, and grinned weakly at her.

  She did not like where this was going, at all.

  “You can be the boss of me,” she purred, and cuddled close, trying to ease the tension. “You know we’re happy, and that I love our relationship, right?”

  He didn’t say anything, but tensed a little and she sighed. This was a true concern, she knew. Not only in this sort of relationship did she have to trust totally that he would never really hurt her, but he had to trust her. She could ruin his life with one 911 call. They both knew it. It was a mutual total, complete, trust issue that went both ways. She thought it brought them closer, but she also knew that it could easily tear them apart, or just as horribly, in her opinion, turn them vanilla. That was the last thing she wanted.

  She loved this lifestyle, needed, and craved it. She didn’t want it to end. Hopefully, he knew this and needed it as much as she did. She really didn’t know what Meredith had overheard or, what Ethan had actually told her, but she needed it to not change anything she had.

  Right now, though, looking at her handsome husband, she knew he was wrestling with something. She’d have to let him for a little while. They both had a lot to lose, but she hoped he’d come to the right decision. She had no clue what she’d do if he didn’t. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to find out.

  * * * * *

  Four days later, she still wasn’t sure. Other than a few hugs and kisses, he hadn’t touched her in four days. Four days. She was about to jump out of her skin. Eric wasn’t her happy, friendly, loving, domineering, husband anymore. He slept on his side of the bed. He was showered and out of the house before she woke up. He came home from work late, and went to his office, instead of cuddling her in front of the TV for their favorite shows, or going on a walk with her, or sitting on the patio with tea and stargazing or anything at all husbandly. Just sat in his office doing whatever, and calling whoever ‘she’ was on the phone. He felt like some cold stranger and she couldn’t take much more—any more—of this.

  She’d overheard him on the phone a few times talking to whatever mysterious woman he was discussing whatever mysterious thing they were talking about in his ‘reassurance’ tone. He used it with her after a nightmare, or when she was upset about something. Not this week, of course, because he’d barely talked to her at all, but she knew that tone. She thought it was hers. Not for random phone people. Who was it?

  Before this, she would have summoned the courage and confessed to eavesdropping after a bout of lovemaking, when they could cuddle and talk about anything. That had been her plan after she overheard the first call.

  But now.

  Now what?

  He wasn’t talking to her. He wasn’t touching her. He sure as hell wasn’t giving her commands or paddling her butt. Or making love to her. Even his hugs were quick and almost business-like. No kisses at all.

  She didn’t know what to do. Or how to handle it. Or… anything. Feeling so miserable, she just couldn’t deal, on Friday, after a whole week of agonizing aloneness, she called in sick after he left for the day. It was after a morning of grunts and short answers and no kiss good-bye. She couldn’t focus on work, she knew it. She couldn’t deal with anything but sitting in front of the TV in her sweats and wallowing in her thoughts, and be extremely unhappy and mopey.

  That she could do and probably do it pretty well.

  Oh, and in a few hours, she was going to trot to the cabinet and find her old buddy. The one that made her feel good and made the fear go away and just confront the hell out of his ass as soon as he got home.

  That made her feel better as soon as she thought it.

  No more namby-pamby beat around the elephant in the room crap. Done. Done. He’d had time to think.

  She was done pretending she didn’t know he was talking to another woman on the phone in secret. Done with him treating her like he was all metrosexual or asexual or whatever it was you called men who couldn’t be bothered to bang their wives. Done with it all.

  She knew where she kept the liquid courage, and was going to have plenty of it by the time he got home tonight. She’d have all day tomorrow and Sunday to nurse what she hoped would be not bad hangover, but an extremely sore butt. If she wasn’t, there would be something very wrong in her life.

  Holly so didn’t want there to be something very wrong in her life.

  Noon… one… the time ticked so slowly as she watched mind numbing television, waiting for…hm… three. Three would be a good time. She could have a couple drinks. Be all strong and confident and not afraid of what could happen or might happen when he walked in the door at bit after five.

  She watched too many excited people win and lose money on way too many stupid game shows as she clock watched. Who knew there was a game show channel, and apparently, it only showed… reruns of game shows? She must have, because it was on, and she was watching it.

  Was he going to leave her for this woman on the phone? Was he going to turn into a wimpy, boring male who wasn’t the boss of her anymore? Did the first matter if the second happened? Why was her heart breaking, and why was she waiting till three?

  Food. She didn’t want any, but he liked to eat. She liked to please him. She wasn’t sure right now why she still wanted to please him after all he’d done, or more accurately, not done this week, but old habits die hard. Crockpot was her friend. Piece of beef. Few potatoes. Couple carrots. An onion. Seasonings. Turn it on. The end. Food for the male. Now what? She could think of nothing else to do but reach up, into the cabinet and bring down her buddy.

  Because she planned to be drinking for a while, and not just a short shot to get her through, and because she hadn’t eaten yet today, she mixed it with orange-pineapple juice. Her favorite. Couple ice cubes, and look at that, food for the female! She was so handy. She should be someone’s wife!

  Oh, that’s right. She was. Did he want her to be? Was he looking for someone else? Would he never be her strong, in control male again? What was going on with him? Would he tell her? He better, she decided, sipping her drink through a straw and heading out to the patio to enjoy the early afternoon weekday sunshine that she hardly ever got to see, because she worked all freaking day in a cold stupid office.

  Stretching out in the patio chair, she felt the sun beat down on her, and felt the heat warm up her skin, golden and wonderful, for… thirty seconds. Maybe a minute. Sipped her drink. Felt the sun. Sipped again.

  Then she got up and paced back into the house, because who could sit still when there was a man to confront and demand answers from, and poured another shot of liquid courage into her still mostly full glass. She took another long draw on her straw, after a quick stir, and then picked up her phone. Put it down.

  Picked it up.

  Then she took another drink, decided she could do it, no, must do it, and texted, quickly before she lost courage. “Come home. Now. I need you.”

  Then she shut off the phone, put it on the counter, took another drink, and went outside to wait for him. He’d be here soon. She knew it as well as she knew she’d have a really good buzz on before he got here.

  Really good.

  He’d be pissed.

  She hoped he’d handle her.

  Or leave her.

  Or anything but this cold stone silence he’d been doing all week. That, she could not take anymore. She would not take it, would not deal with it. No. He could deal with her now. Whatever it was he was so upset about and so weirded out about, had to end and had to end immediately if not before.

  Today.

  She wasn’t going through another night or even afternoon worrying about whom he was talking to on the phone, or what he was thinking about after Meredith’s bombshell.

  Done.

  She was just d
one with this no communication thing. She’d done the ‘nice wife’ thing and let him have his space. Space was for astronauts. It wasn’t for her life, her relationship. Her husband.

  She needed another drink. Somehow hers was empty. But, oh, man her anxiety level had dropped way down. That was a very good thing. She needed it to drop more. She needed some courage and much less anxiety. He would be driving up very soon. She needed to figure out what to say. Maybe she should just wing it?

  Maybe she should write a list.

  Maybe she should just fill up her glass. That seemed like the best idea.

  Carefully she stood up, and went to the kitchen cabinet for a refill. No need to put either the vodka or the juice away, who knew when she’d need it again? Soon. Maybe. Or not. Puking would not be good. She needed to slow down. After this drink.

  Carefully, she walked to the front stoop and sat down on the step, and waited for his car to pull in. Waited for him. It shouldn’t be long at all now.

  * * * * *

  Eric glanced down at his vibrating phone. Holly often texted him from work. Usually a little sexy note, or promise of things to come later that night, or just to ask if he had a dinner preference. They both worked about the same hours, but his commute was longer, so he mostly left earlier and got home later. He realized he’d gotten home much later every day this week. He was tired of that. He imagined his office staff was tired of it, too. No one wanted to work late every night, especially with a cranky boss. He needed to stop being a cranky boss and going home late. He needed things to be right and normal again. But how could he?

  Wishing he could figure out his life, he read her message. Come home. Now. I need you.

  He hit the redial button and tried to call her back. What was going on? She shouldn’t be home in the middle of the afternoon. Hopefully, the house wasn’t on fire. Was she sick? She seemed okay this morning, sad, like she had been all week, but physically healthy. No answer, straight to voice mail. Had she shut off her phone?