by Leddy Harper
“I am getting out. Getting away from him. It just takes time. I have a plan and it’s important that I stick to it. He’ll kill me otherwise. I’m almost there. Almost free. The trial is almost over.” I looked at him and couldn’t stop thinking about Charles. Based on Sean’s reaction, I had really been in danger. “How bad is it? How bad is this Charles guy?” I asked in desperation.
He wouldn’t even look at me. “Bad.”
My heart dropped and I felt the need to change the subject. The thought of having any type of organized crime breaking into my home sent ice through my veins. I had really been in danger and it terrified me that they would come back. I couldn’t absorb everything he was telling me at that moment. It took everything in me not to break down in front of him. All I wanted was to be with him, for him to save me and keep me safe. But he felt differently, and I couldn’t go through that conversation again.
I looked over, desperate for a distraction, and noticed the paper bag sitting on the floor by the front door. “What did you bring for dinner?”
“Chinese. I didn’t know what to pick up so I went with the usual.”
I stood up and went to the bag. I opened it to peek inside, wondering what he had ordered. As soon as I saw the egg roll, I smiled. It was a simple gesture, but it was huge to me. Sean hated egg rolls, but I loved them. The fact that he ordered one meant he had thought about me. It was the simple things that I loved most about him.
I picked the bag up and took it to the kitchen table. Sean continued to sit on the couch as I pulled out plates and began to dish out the food for us. It was strange that Sean was there and we were going to share dinner together. He hadn’t been by in weeks and I had begun to think he would never come back. I had even let myself start thinking that I might never see him again.
He finally came over once I had everything set out and drinks on the table. We were both seated by the time I found the courage to broach the subject that the air was now thick with. “What’s wrong with you? You’re being really quiet.”
“Nothing,” he said and then sighed as he scooped more food on to his plate. “That’s not true. This just feels awkward between us. I don’t know how to navigate this new relationship.”
“This new relationship was your idea. I never wanted it. You left me when I needed you the most,” I blurted out, getting angrier by the moment. “You wanted this.”
“You left me no other choice,” he said softly and looked at me with amber eyes full of hurt.
“Excuse me?” I asked, completely pissed and full of attitude. I wasn’t happy about his declaration. I wanted things to go back to the way they were, before he had ended things so abruptly. I wanted him; my body craved his touch and his kisses. I needed him.
“After all of this”—he waved his arms around my house that I had spent hours cleaning after it had been destroyed by men, who were after Tony—“and this”—he pointed to the cut along my neck—“how can you still argue with me? I’ve told you time and time again to leave him, and yet you never did. This is exactly what I was afraid of—no, that’s a lie. Tony killing you is what I’m afraid of most, and from the looks of it, that might not be too far away.”
“I kicked him out, Sean. You left me because I was still with him, but I’m not anymore. He’s gone. What more do you want from me?”
“You still haven’t left Tony. You may have kicked him out, but you haven’t made one move to file for a divorce.”
The one thing that he didn’t seem to understand was that I couldn’t. I was unable to do the things he wanted me to. There was a plan to follow, things to prepare for, and a trial to finish. I couldn’t go against that any more than I already had. I should have never even kicked Tony out in the first place, but I did.
“One step at a time. Don’t I get credit for that?”
“And what happens the next time he comes back? Huh? This isn’t the first time he’s left. I won’t step in every time he walks out that door. I’ve told you too many times to count that I won’t be second best. We’ve talked about this already. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I can’t keep going down this road with you.”
“Be with me, and let me show you that this is the final time. He’s not coming back. Let me prove that to you. Why can’t we just be together until you can finally see that? You know this is different than every other time,” I begged with tears in my eyes. I wouldn’t survive without him. He’d been my rock for so long that I felt weak without him.
“I told you that I won’t do this, Char. I won’t be your fuck buddy on the side. It’s not fair for me to have to step aside every time he’s ready to come back. I need to know he’s gone for good. I need to believe he’s not coming back.”
“You’re here now. What does that mean?”
“It means you called me and needed me. I will always worry about you, Char. Always. This isn’t how I wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with you. I didn’t want to share Chinese food while sitting across from you at your husband’s table, looking at the slice on your neck. This is a nightmare come true. Put yourself in my shoes just once. Just one time, look at things from my point of view. What do you think it does to me to know that no matter how much I love you, how much I try to protect you, there’s always this fear in the back of my mind that you’ll call me and I’ll come running and find you dead. I wake up in pools of sweat in the middle of the night after dreaming that I’ve walked in on you and you’re lying in a pool of your own blood. And I can’t save you. The only reason why I’m still friends with Tony is to keep an eye on him. I’m scared to fucking death, Charlotte, that he’ll kill you and I won’t be able to save you. So please, put yourself in my shoes.” He looked at me pointedly and I knew the conversation had been closed.
We had been through this so many times I knew it was a moot point now. He had made his decision, no matter how fucked up I thought it was. I was on the path to rectifying things and knew it would lead to Sean and me ending up together eventually. It just might not happen exactly when I wanted it to, but I knew it would happen. Baby steps. That’s all I could do.
“Tell me more about your visit today. Your living room looks rather empty. They sure did a number on it and you,” his voice was uneasy as his gaze continued to return to my neck.
I cleared my throat and shrugged my shoulders as I moved my hair in an attempt to cover it up. I couldn’t handle his agonizing gaze any longer, no matter how much it showed he still cared. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t think you are, Char.”
“What do you care, Sean? You came through the door with your mind set and there’s no changing it. I want more, you don’t. I guess we’re stuck and I’m in the position of losing everything, once again.”
“I care about you. Believe it or not, you are the most important person to me. I have been friends with Tony for over fifteen years, and nothing would ever be able to stop me from murdering him if my fears become reality. Nothing. I would gut him in an instant if he took you away from me permanently. I think the fact that I would be willing to kill for you means something,” he said with such emotion that I had no other choice but to believe him.
I nodded. “I believe you. So where do we go from here?” I reached my hand over the table to him and hoped he would grasp it. My heart leapt when he did.
“We move forward. You continue to implement the decisions you’ve made, and I continue with mine. Soon, we’ll meet in the middle and be able to live our life together. We just need to wait.”
It felt like all I ever did was wait. I was done waiting. It was time to make a huge decision. Time to take the bull by the horns, so to speak.
Tony was the bull. I would be lying if I said only part of me was scared.
February 1st, 2015
I woke up and quickly turned off the alarm on my bedside table before it woke Tony. He hated when my alarm woke him up and I didn’t want to piss him off. That was the last thing I wanted to do.
I quickly got out of bed and carefully made my side
before I rushed downstairs to start Tony’s coffee and make him a hot breakfast. I tidied up along the way as I made the coffee and his favorite omelet. He hated it when he came in to an untidy kitchen. I quickly placed my phone on the counter and then set his customary place setting at the table before running to the front door to get the morning paper. He expected that it would be right beside his steaming cup of coffee and would blow a gasket if it weren’t.
My heart stopped as my brown eyes scanned the front porch. The newspaper wasn’t anywhere in site. I swallowed the panic and tried to stay levelheaded. It wouldn’t help if I freaked out. That would just earn me another sick punishment from Tony. I had known from prior experience that his temper wouldn’t calm just because the paper hadn’t been delivered. That somehow translated into my problem and my fault, which in turn translated into my punishment.
I opened the door wider and stepped onto the front porch with bare feet. The concrete was cold, but I didn’t even give it a second thought. The only thought in my mind was finding that fucking paper before Tony woke up and all hell broke loose.
I searched as I went down the steps, one at a time. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I pushed the panic down as I continued my search. I got down on my hands and knees, sweeping my gaze underneath all the bushes. That stupid paperboy had been known to sometimes miss his mark. I tried to tip him nicely and reiterate how important it was not to miss the porch, but not everyone was perfect. Except me. In the eyes of Tony Paulette, I was fucking perfect. At least he pretended I was in front of the rest of the world. Behind closed doors, he constantly reminded me how horrible I was. Nothing I did ever pleased him.
“Oh thank you, sweet baby Jesus!” I finally found the paper wedged between the front bushes and the stucco of the house. I grabbed it quickly, not having a moment to spare.
I rushed back inside and my heart sank when I noticed the corner of the newspaper was wet. I quickly got the scissors out and clipped off the iddy bitty corner. He would totally notice. I don’t even know why I bothered to try. Nothing escaped him, especially where I was concerned.
I shook off the negative thoughts and continued with my morning breakfast preparations. I was determined to make this morning a good one. This was the morning I would break my news. I would tell him I was leaving him. I already knew it wouldn’t go over well; in fact, I doubted I would survive it, but I would rather die trying to leave then be stuck under his thumb for the rest of my life. Besides, I had a plan and this was a very important piece of it.
I set the salt and pepper on the table, just so, two inches apart and two inches from the right side of his plate. He had beaten me within an inch of my life once and that’s all it took for me to remember the specifications.
The coffee pot beeped, signaling that it was finished brewing, and I silently cursed the fact that he refused to use the new machine on the market that produced one coffee cup at a time to perfection. No, he wanted it the way he was used to. Did I mention that Tony didn’t like change? That was the first thing I was going to get rid of when he left.
I heard stirrings upstairs, which signaled that it was time for me to put his toast on. I quickly popped two slices of bread into the toaster and finished the omelet. I had to sauté all the ingredients before depositing them into the folds of eggs. Once again, I had to do all the added steps because of you know who. He would know before his first bite if I had missed anything he had demanded.
While the eggs where finishing, I buttered the lightly toasted bread and then sliced it corner to corner before placing it perfectly on the plate beside his omelet. I quickly opened each cupboard to ensure all the contents were perfectly aligned; I never knew when Tony would check. It had to be perfect at all times. Labels facing out, smaller items in the front, and they couldn’t be less than three-quarters full.
I looked at the counter one last time to ensure everything was put away and all the dishes were loaded in the dishwasher, the sink clear. Then I kicked myself. I had completely forgotten to fix myself something to eat, and that was Tony’s number one pet peeve. He did not, ever, eat alone.
I quickly dumped a yogurt and granola in a bowl, hoping that would be sufficient enough for him. Breakfast was served. I set my bowl on my place setting and poured myself a glass of orange juice at the last minute. After years of serving Tony coffee, and getting the shit beaten out of me if it wasn’t perfect, I couldn’t stand the taste of it anymore. Honestly, I couldn’t even stand the smell of it, but I couldn’t get around that. I was feeling a bit more tired than usual this morning and actually gave coffee a second thought before deciding it wasn’t worth it. I fiddled with my phone before Tony came in the room. I looked up at him and smiled. I think the hunt for the paper had made me loopy; I smiled again to myself.
“What are you smiling about?” Tony barked the question in place of a greeting.
“Nothing, dear. I just was impressed with the way things turned out this morning. I think you’ll be pleased. At least I hope so.” I gave him a pensive smile and waited for him to sit down before I did.
Shit! I had forgotten his orange juice! Would he notice? Of course, he would! He was Tony fucking Paulette. He noticed everything.
Well, I had a few words for him. I was Charlotte fucking Paulette and I was done with his desire for perfection. I just had to work up the courage to tell him. Even the thought of breaking the news to him was so intimidating I wanted to run and hide. I refused to do that any longer. I was not going to run and hide anymore.
“What the fuck is this?” Tony bellowed.
I tensed and had no idea what he would critique, the newspaper corner or the missing juice.
“There’s a spot on my napkin. You need to pay more attention to detail. Think, think, think!” he said as he tapped the side of his head with his pointer finger at every think.
I just nodded and tried not to lose my nerve to bring up the topic I needed to discuss with him. It would kill him! I just hoped he didn’t kill me in the process. But after his attitude on Christmas day, I felt I at least had a chance that there was some part of him that would give to my demands.
“I need to speak to you about something?” I began timidly. I cursed myself and tried to muster the confidence I needed. I could not sound timid. I needed to sound self-assured, even though I felt anything but.
“Yes?” he asked through bites of his well-prepared omelet, perfectly fluffy and seasoned flawlessly to his liking. Do you think he’d compliment me? No. He just looked annoyed that I was interrupting his meal. I was forgetting to be seen and not heard. Fuck that!
“I want a divorce,” I said with authority. Did it matter that my voice squeaked? I held my chin firm and refused to falter.
He started to laugh and it sounded more like a cackle. He was making fun of me. “That’s a good one,” he said as he sipped his coffee. I silently wished it would burn his esophagus and he’d choke and die in front of me. That way I could stand over his dying body and cackle at him, letting him know what a good one that was.
I fought the urge to yank the cup out of his hand and throw it at him. I had finally endured enough and reached my breaking point. I was done. I no longer cared if he killed me when I tried to leave, as he had threatened over and over. I was ready. Ready to take the beating he would give, ready to face the consequences of me leaving him. Ready for whatever stood in my way, even if it was death that stood before me.
“I’m serious, Tony. I want a divorce. I’m done living in this tormented life you call a marriage. I want out. You said you would give it to me, and now I’m calling in the favor. It’s time to end this nightmare.” I had this speech prepared since our one-month wedding anniversary. The only thing that had stopped me each time was the fear of what he would do to me. Nothing was worse than what he had been doing to me. I braced myself for the eruption of anger and opened my eyes when nothing happened.
He just sat there and stared at me, completely stunned. “I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” he whi
spered and I couldn’t help but think this was the calm before the storm. The eye of the hurricane. And once I thought it was safe, it would be over and the raging storm would return with a vengeance.
“I want out, Tony. I want a divorce,” I reiterated more firmly than ever for the third time. I set my full lips in a straight, controlled line and tried to make my large doe-eyes look like they had purpose. My determination surprised even myself. There wasn’t one single hint of trepidation in my voice as I repeated myself.
He reached out and whacked me across the face before I could even brace myself. I was so unprepared that I flew out of my chair and landed on the ground with a thud. I let out a groan as the impact of my body weight hit the tiled floor. I swiftly took inventory that I was okay by moving each leg and arm. I was okay. For now.
Tony growled and got up from his chair; I knew this was it. He pulled me by my hair and forced me to my feet. I was surprised, as I had been many times before, that my hair roots held and didn’t rip free. They felt like they would, but they rarely did.
I tried to stifle my moans as the pain hit me. The more noise I made, the more it fueled his power. I had learned from experience to deal with the pain and keep it to myself. Otherwise, I would end up in more pain than I already was.
He grunted as he threw me over the table. I hit the wall before falling to the floor. I went through my inventory system again, ensuring my bones hadn’t broken. I was numb to the whole process of his beatings. I had been through them so many times I was afraid to admit I couldn’t even count them.
“Tony, stop this. I’m going to leave no matter what you do to me,” I grunted out as he started to kick me. He kicked my ribs and I felt a pop. I held my arms and hands up to my face; my eye was still yellow and green from the bruise I had been gifted the week before. It was harder to conceal my face, everything else I could manage.
He got tired of kicking me and yanked me up by my shoulder-length hair once again, this time throwing me against the wall. My body hit the wall with such impact that it stunned me so badly I could do nothing but lay there. I lay on the floor in the fetal position, praying to whoever could help me for this to end. I had thought about death over and over again throughout the years, but now that I was faced with it, I came to the realization that I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live and be free.
