"Did he hit you, Emily?" His words were slow and deliberate.
I wanted to lie to him, but I knew there was physical evidence. "Yes sir," I said, unable to believe it myself.
Jesse Bennett reared back hit the steering wheel with his fist and called Robin an obscenity that meant he was a fatherless child. I had never in my life heard my dad utter a cuss word, but this one came out with no effort whatsoever.
I looked his way, and he took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at me. His expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry baby. I just can't stand the thought of him laying a hand on you."
He looked back at the road and I watched as his jaw flexed and his hand tightened around the steering wheel before he continued in an even calmer tone. "I hope you're not planning on seeing him anymore," he said.
"No sir."
I swallowed at the thought. I'd been thinking lately about what my life would be like without Robin, but saying it out loud made it hit me in a whole different way.
I swam dizzily in the craziest mix of emotions as we drove back to my parents' house.
Chapter 11
My mom was waiting anxiously when we returned. My parents' front door had a large window, and I could see her standing there staring through it in spite of the large Christmas wreath hanging on the outside. Her hands were clutched in front of her chest, and she was wearing a worried expression.
"Goodness, baby," she said, opening the door as I crossed the front porch, "you must be freezing."
I walked straight into her arms without responding. "She's shivering," I heard her say to my dad. She ran her hand over the back of my head. "It's no wonder. Her hair's soaking wet."
She pulled me into the house and grabbed a throw blanket off of the back of one of the chairs to wrap around my shoulders. She sat beside me on the couch before staring up at my dad. "Go make her something warm, please, Jesse." She said in hushed tones so as to not disturb Thomas who was no doubt sleeping. She glanced at me. "Tea, or hot chocolate?"
"It doesn't matter," I whispered.
"Bring some tea," she told my dad.
He took off toward the kitchen, and my mom, with a hand on the top of my back, looked me over with concern flooding her expression. "Tell me what happened, Emily."
I went through the whole story. I told her everything that happened that night, and then rewound to the incidents that had been building up to it. I shivered until the combination of the tea and blanket finally warmed my bones.
My parents and I sat on the couch and talked for over an hour. The lights of their Christmas tree were on and sparkling, which added to my sense of comfort. I knew none of it was my fault, but I couldn't help but feel embarrassed as if part of the responsibility was somehow mine.
Also, I couldn't help the feeling of sadness that washed over me and the thought of this chapter of my life coming to an end. For the past three years, I had my happily ever after worked out in my head. I thought I was going to be one of the Bullers, and the thought of losing Robin and everything that came with him created a painful void.
As I told them everything that happened, I realized that it should have been easy for me to say I was leaving him, but it wasn't. I wouldn't think of myself as someone who was overly concerned with material possessions, but choosing to turn my back on a life of wealth was extremely difficult. I kept finding myself wanting to make excuses for him just in case I decided to change my mind. I knew in my heart that wasn't an option, though. His jealousy issues had only gotten worse lately.
During our conversation, my parents, of course, asked me where I was physically hurt. I told them about my face and back, and they turned on the overhead light so they could inspect the damage. Aside from some redness, there wasn't much to see just yet, but I figured based on the fact that it was still throbbing that there would definitely be bruises in both places.
My mother tried to keep it together during our conversation, but she shed a few tears at the sight of my pain. I was exhausted, and felt overwhelmed physically and emotionally.
We had been on the couch for about an hour when there was a knock at the door. My heart sank, knowing that at this hour, it could only be one person. I didn't even glance at the door to see who it was. My dad got to his feet instantly, and I heard him mumbling as he crossed the living room. "What does he think he's doing showing up here?" he murmured. He opened the door and stepped outside.
My mom put her arm around me with her hand resting over my ear as if to shield me from the conversation that we may or may not even be able to hear, but I wanted to hear it, so I pulled her hand away. I heard Robin say something about how he been trying to call me and was worried when I didn't pick up my phone, and then my dad came back with something about how I wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place if it wasn't for him. They raised their voices a few times.
I heard Robin say, "I love her," and my dad respond with, "It's too late for that," but I couldn’t make out much else.
They spoke for a few minutes before my dad finally came inside, locking the deadbolt behind him. I turned toward the door and watched my dad as he stared out the window, making sure Robin got in his car and left. He crossed to the sectional sofa where mom and I were cuddled up and sat on the other end of it.
He propped his elbows on his knees and sank his face into his hands, massaging his eyebrows a little bit before looking up at me. "That was Robin," he said, even though that was obvious.
"We know that, honey," Mom said. "What'd he say?"
"He apologized for scaring you." Dad let out a little humorless laugh. "He actually thought I was gonna let you leave here with him."
"Tonight?" my mom asked in a disbelieving tone.
My dad didn't answer her question. He just gave us a look that confirmed it.
"What'd you tell him?" she asked. "I told him it was over between the two of you." He glanced at me with a hopeful expression, wondering if I was okay with him saying that to Robin, and I gave him an almost imperceptible nod in reply.
We sat there in silence for what must've been a full minute before I finally said, "I'm gonna have to give him back everything he bought me." It sounded selfish coming from my own lips, but I only meant it to be practical since I officially wouldn't have a car.
"That's the least of your worries," my mom said, rubbing my shoulders in a comforting manner.
"It means I won't have a car," I said.
"We'll figure something out," my dad said. He stretched out and put a hand on my mom's leg. "We should try to get some rest."
My parents had a king size bed, and I ended up sleeping with them that night. It was something I hadn't done in probably ten years, but it seemed like the only logical thing for me to do. I did my best to lie still, but it was difficult to get comfortable. The right side of my face ached and so did the left side of my back, so it was almost impossible to find a good position. I didn't even think about asking my parents for some pain medicine until after we'd already been lying there for an hour and they were already asleep. I finally drifted off to delirious thoughts of possible ways my life would turn out.
I spent the entire next day in my parents' bed. I wanted nothing more than to just sit there and stare at the television all day, and they were happy to oblige. Christmas was only a few days away, and I knew I would have to come out eventually, but I needed one day to let everything sink in. I considered joining the family that afternoon, but leaving the bedroom still didn't feel like something I wanted to do. I heard Mom, Dad, and Thomas stirring around in the house, and I just didn't have it in me to go out there.
Thomas was extremely concerned about my sudden urge to stay holed up in my parents' room, and he peeked his head in several times to check on me. I told him I wasn't feeling well, which was true.
The sun had already set when my mom came in to ask if I would join them for dinner. I figured I might as well make the effort since staying in there for the rest of my life wasn't an option.
I
hadn't looked at my phone all day. It had been in the living room while I was in the bedroom, and I hadn't even thought about going to get it or asking one of them to bring it to me. I figured I should at least take a look at it, so I planned on checking it when I went in there for dinner.
My dad had a fire going, and Thomas was sitting on the hearth, craning his neck to see what was on the television. It was an episode of American Pickers—the same thing I'd been watching on my parents' TV.
"Emilyyy!" Thomas said, holding his arms in the air the second he caught sight of me. "Hellooo!" he added dropping his arms. He said the word hello in an odd voice that made me glance at my dad who gestured at the TV.
"He's imitating that guy on this show," Dad said.
"Hellooo!" Thomas said again, so I could check out how accurate his imitation was.
I had no idea what they were talking about, but I said, "That's pretty good, Thomas."
He smiled proudly. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"I nodded as I sat on the couch.
"I know you broke up with Robin," he said.
"You do?" I asked.
"We told him what was going on," my dad said.
"Yeah, because I knew it," Thomas said.
"What'd you know?" I asked.
"I knew you weren't just sick. You've been sick lots of times, and you never sleep in Mom's bed."
I gave Thomas my best version of a smile despite my sore jaw. "I can't slip anything past you," I said.
"And I know he hurt you because I see that mark on your face," he said. My hand went to the place on my jaw where the impact had been.
"It's not right there," Thomas said.
I glanced at my dad who said, "It's closer to your mouth." He added, "It's not bad, though," for my benefit.
"That's not what you said a minute ago," Thomas said. "Remember? You and mom were talking about calling the cops."
Dad looked at me with a patient half smile. "Your mother and I mentioned a restraining order, but obviously that's something we would have to discuss with you." He focused his attention on Thomas. "I don't think your sister wants to talk about it right now," he said.
"I need to," I said. "I can't just pretend it didn't happen. I need to make plans to get his things back to him, and I need to start thinking about how I'm gonna get around."
My mom came in the living room and we had a conversation about all of those things. We decided to go to my apartment the next day after they got home from church. I would find everything Robin had given me over the years and bring it to his parents' house since my car was parked there already.
I knew I wanted to stay at my parents' house for the next few days—maybe even through Christmas, but I figured I would ultimately try to stay in my apartment as long as I could afford it. I felt scared, and thought about telling my parents I wanted to move back home, but something about that felt wrong. I knew I might have to change my mind if I couldn't afford it, but I felt like giving up my independence right away was somehow letting Robin win.
There was a lot to think about, and I was happy to have my family there to help me talk through it. I took up residence in my own room after dinner that night so I wouldn't infringe on my parents privacy any longer. They made sure I knew I was welcome to stay, but I felt fine sleeping in my old bedroom.
I took my phone with me, and checked it for the first time once I was settled in my room. I had 20 missed calls and 10 texts, and all of them except a few were from Robin. One text was from Carly, and a few others were from my friends, but otherwise they were all from Robin. I read and responded to the text from Carly and my friend Chelsea, but didn't even look at Robin's right at first.
Curiosity finally got the best of me, and I stretched out on my bed as I listened to his messages one by one. He hadn't left a message every time he called, but there were eight voicemails from him, and all of them were incredibly pitiful. I cried as I listened, tears streaming down the side of my face and landing on my bed. He sounded desperate and hurt as he pleaded with me to forgive him.
It made me want to call him, go to him, reconsider everything, but I knew I couldn’t. I remembered the way his hand connected with my face—the way it sent me flying backwards into the vanity. Then, I listened to another message and would start to feel bad for him again.
I was so conflicted by the time I finished all of them that I thought I might actually call him back. I decided to look in the mirror one time before doing it. I hadn't glanced at myself all day, and wanted to see if the physical evidence of his abuse would sway me one way or the other. If there was barely anything on my face, then maybe I was overreacting—maybe Robin deserved a second chance. He'd been crying and begging for one in the messages. His desperate pleas tugged at my heartstrings.
I turned on my bathroom light and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Thomas was right; the bruise that I thought had been on my jaw was actually closer to my mouth. I got closer to the mirror, and upon further inspection, there was indeed a bruise on my jaw—it's just that the darkest, most noticeable part of it was the area that extended toward my mouth.
I stared at myself for a long time.
I did a lot of reflecting in those minutes. It wasn't about Robin. It wasn't about Shane. It had nothing to do with my love life at all. As I stared in the mirror, I knew in my heart that if I truly trusted God, everything else would fall into place.
Chapter 12
My parents and Thomas went to church the next morning, but I stayed at the house. I hadn't been to church in a long time—probably over a year.
Today was different. Today I felt the desire to go and would have, had it not been for the ever-darkening bruise on my face.
Thoughts of Robin and my uncertain future kept creeping into my mind, and I just prayed that God would give me some sort of sign or help me find peace with closing that chapter of my life. I did some soul-searching and realized I'd seen it coming with Robin for quite some time. Looking back, it was apparent we'd been growing apart during the past year or so, but all the assumptions I had about our future life made me too blind to see it. I thought about it while they were gone and came to terms with the fact that I had fallen out of love with Robin a long time ago.
My mom asked me to keep an eye on the roast and put the casserole in the oven while they were at church. I knew my brother and Carly would be coming over for lunch, and my first instinct was to avoid them, but I knew it was pointless since they'd find out the truth anyway.
I was sitting on the couch when they got home. The television was on, but I had been staring past it in deep thought. I turned to watch my parents and Thomas approach the door. My mom walked from the truck with a determined stride and was the first one inside.
"Why didn't you pick up your phone?" she said, entering the house with a concerned expression that made me sit straight up.
"It's in my room," I said. "What's the matter?"
"Micah's gonna be here any second. They were right behind us."
"Okayyy…" I said, not seeing the big deal since I already told her I was okay with telling Micah everything.
"He's not coming alone," she said.
Right at that second, Thomas burst in the door wearing a huge grin. His arms were held high above his head excitedly. "Micah's friends are coming to Heaven with usssss!" he announced loudly. I shifted my attention to my mom for some sort of explanation, but before she could say anything, Thomas continued. "And they're coming to lunch with us tooooo!" he yelled, arms still raised high.
"What's he talking about?" I asked.
"Micah invited a couple of guys to church with him today."
"Yeah, and they accepted Jesus as their Lord and Saviorrr." Thomas said.
My dad was entering the house just as all this was going on, which only added to my confusion. My mom stared out the window, as if worrying for my sake that they might pull up any minute. "Micah didn't know what your situation was, and he told them they could come over for lunch. I didn't have
the heart to say no. I tried to call you to say you could hide out in your room until everybody leaves."
"Yeah, why didn't you pick up your phone," Dad interjected. "You had your mother worried."
I was too concerned with other things to answer his question. I looked at Mom. "How many people are coming over here?" I asked.
"Two brothers named Brock and Shane," Thomas said. "And they're coming to Heaven with us too because they trusted God at church this morning."
I sprang off the couch the second he said those names. "Who'd he say?" I asked, staring at my mom.
"Brock and Shane," Thomas said. "We saw them at Micah's wedding too."
"They're coming over here right now?" I asked Mom.
She could see the desperation in my eyes, and she looked out the window again to see if they were there. "I tried to call you," she said. "You can disappear to your room if you want. I'll pull Micah aside to give him a heads up about what's going on with you. He'll probably want to come upstairs and check on you."
"Why's Emily gonna disappear?" Thomas asked, looking confused.
"Because she might not be in the mood to interact with new people just yet since she's still got that mark on her face," Mom said. She gave him an impassive stare. "And you probably shouldn't mention that she's up there, either, because they'll think she's not being friendly when it has nothing to do with that."
"It has to do with Robin hurting her," Thomas said.
"You shouldn't mention that either," Dad said.
Thomas stared at me with utter confusion. I hated to see him so down after he was so elated about his announcement.
I smiled at him, trying to assure him that I was fine. "It's very exciting news about Micah's friends coming to Heaven and to lunch," I said. "But Mom's right. I'm not feeling up for entertaining right now and think it's best if I head up to—"
Finaly My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me Book 2) Page 8
