“Stop it, Ethan.” Having said it, though, it was as if the real Ethan was whisked away from me. I couldn’t see him inside his face anymore. His eyes were clouded, masked, and his fingers started pressing in on me. I started pushing against him, slapping at him, trying to get his attention, but it was almost like he wasn’t there…and like he wanted to shut me up by choking me to death. I beat on his chest with my fists, and then it was like he snapped back. He took a deep breath and loosened his hand. He bent over to kiss me, and I shoved him away.
This time, he let me go. I went into Chris’s room and pulled the big diaper bag out of the closet. I made sure there were plenty of diapers and also put a couple pairs of clothes in it for him. I didn’t want to go back in my bedroom, so I went to the bathroom and put a few things in a makeup bag. But on the way back to Chris’s room, I decided I’d just walk into my room and quickly grab a couple pairs of jeans and t-shirts. Ethan was already out of there, though, so I took my time and chose two clean sets of clothes, including underwear. I put my things in a backpack hanging in my closet.
Last, I grabbed Chris’s car seat and lifted him out of his crib. I felt bad, but he barely stirred as I lay him in the seat. I draped his bag and the backpack over my shoulder along with my purse and walked out of the bedroom. As I walked toward the front door, I saw Ethan sitting in a chair in the living room. He looked sullen and brooding. His eyes were cold and frightening. I half expected him to come after me as I walked toward the door, but he didn’t.
Another part of me thought Ethan might get up, beg me for forgiveness, say he was sorry. But he didn’t do that either.
It was a warm, bright afternoon, one that would have made me normally enjoy being outside. But inside, I felt cold, cut off, distant.
I hurried to my car and strapped Chris in his car seat in the back. Once I got in, I locked the doors, hoping Ethan would stay in the house.
I drove to a Starbucks, and Chris and I just sat outside for a while. I watched traffic and just thought about my life. For some reason, I wasn’t hurting as badly as I would have expected. Yeah, I was hurt and upset, but not like I would have thought I should. Maybe I was just finally sick of Ethan’s shit.
Chris started getting fussy—he was hungry and bored, so I went to a restaurant. I had iced tea and a salad and asked for crackers for Chris. I wasn’t very hungry, but I was feeling a little better as the day wore on. By late afternoon, I was content in the idea that life goes on, and as I looked upon my son who was blissfully unaware of what had happened earlier, I realized that beauty and happiness could be found if I only looked for them.
We left the restaurant, and I sat in the car for a few minutes. We needed a place to stay. I was tired and hurting, inside and out. I knew I would always be welcome in my parents’ house, but that was a two- to three-hour drive, and I didn’t want to have to tell them what had happened. I wanted to talk with someone who cared, and my parents would have been good to talk to, but I also knew my dad would probably want to kill Ethan when he saw the bruises on my arm.
My thoughts went immediately to Brad, the man who’d been at one time my best friend…or the closest thing I’d had to one. We hadn’t had much of a friendship since Ethan and I had married, though, and I think it had been a mutual decision on the part of us both. To continue our friendship would have been inappropriate and disrespectful. But, after my parents, he was the first person I thought of. He was the person I wanted to talk to, to see, even if I didn’t tell him exactly what had happened.
But I couldn’t let him see me this way. I found my foundation in my bag and covered the discoloration on my neck. I would slip on my jacket before I knocked on his door to hide the nasty purple ones on the inside of my arm. It wasn’t that I wanted to lie to Brad, but I didn’t want him to look at the bruises and not hear a word I said.
And still…I sat in the car for a while longer, debating if I wanted to see Brad or if I just wanted to go to a hotel. I looked back at Chris. I knew Brad hadn’t seen my son in a few months, so I knew he’d like that if nothing else. Brad had become “Uncle” Brad to our son, and I wanted to encourage that relationship, considering Ethan had no siblings and I only had one. So I decided I would go, but I could find a hotel afterward if need be.
When I got to Brad’s house, it was almost dark. I felt relief when I saw a light on inside and no sign of Ethan’s truck. It would have been easy enough for Ethan to come cry on his friend’s shoulder, but he wasn’t there. I remembered too that Brad’s girlfriend Karen was living with him too, had been living with him for about a year. Karen hadn’t seemed to like me much, but we’d maintained a civil acquaintanceship. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
I sat in my car, feeling torn. Should I ask to be invited inside and take comfort in my friend or leave and cry myself to sleep in a cold, uncaring hotel room? I really wanted to see Brad but didn’t feel like I should. I had my child, and he was the most important person in my life.
That was it then. I would go. Just as I started to turn the key in the ignition, though, I heard a rap on the passenger window. I tried to smile. I really did. I hoped in the near dark, he wouldn’t be able to tell. I turned the key so I could roll down the window. “Val, what the hell are you doing here?” His voice was friendly. “Why don’t you come in?” He saw Chris in the backseat. “Oh, you brought the little guy.” He looked back at me. “Come on in.” Before I could say a word, he was opening up the backdoor and unbuckling Chris’s car seat.
I grabbed my purse and the diaper bag but left my bag in the car and followed Brad to the front door. Once we got inside, he set the car seat on the couch and unbuckled Chris. He lifted my son out. “Hey, little buddy. How’ve you been?”
Chris smiled and babbled something. Yes, he’d been talking a lot lately, but I didn’t understand everything my son said. God, that was cute, though. Chris placed his open palm on Brad’s cheek and Brad said, “Boo!” Chris giggled, that happy baby giggle, and it was infectious. I smiled as Brad set my son down.
He looked over at me. “Have a seat.” But then he cocked his head. I could tell he sensed things weren’t right with me, but I didn’t know that was what he was responding to. He came closer and looked at my neck. That told me my makeup job was shitty. “What happened?”
I forced myself to not cry, and Karen entered the room. She regarded me with an icy stare. “Valerie.” No hi, no warmth, just a simple acknowledgement, and it didn’t seem very happy.
I didn’t want to be that way, so I forced that smile back on my face. “Hi, Karen.”
“Brad, can I talk to you?”
“Just a minute.” He looked back at me, and I saw a flash in his eyes. “Did Ethan do this?”
I couldn’t answer, but I felt tears start to well up in my eyes. I heard Karen. “Brad. I need to talk to you, please.” The tone of her voice indicated she wasn’t happy with him at all. Brad just kept looking at me as though I had more answers to give. “Fuck it. I’m outta here.”
“Karen…goddammit.” He looked at me. “Give me a minute, Val. I’ll be right back.” He looked at Karen, and they went into the kitchen. I felt really uncomfortable now and was wishing I’d just gone somewhere else to stay. I got the feeling they’d been arguing before I’d even got there. For all I knew, that’s why Brad had stepped outside to begin with.
I could hear them talking in the kitchen but, fortunately, their voices were low enough that I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Chris was being cute, walking around and touching things. I would tell him no, to not grab something off a bookshelf, and he’d grin at me and run back to hug me. Then he’d get a devilish grin on his face and do it again.
That behavior was adorable, but it reminded me of Ethan. He kept doing the same things over and over and over again, and I let him. The fact that I kept coming back to him excused, condoned…hell, encouraged his behavior. Because I kept loving him in spite of all the shit he dumped on me, he thought it was okay.
It was warm in Brad’s house, and I took off my jacket, laying it beside me on the couch. I kept talking to Chris quietly, and he’d answer and giggle, so it was almost easy enough for me to pretend Brad and Karen weren’t in the other room fighting. But their voices started getting louder. Karen escalated first, and it took a while for me to hear Brad’s words. “I’m done, Brad. I don’t need this shit.”
I couldn’t hear Brad’s response, but they were quiet for a minute. Then she said, “You’re an asshole.” I could hear Brad’s voice but still couldn’t make out his response to her. “You know…I thought if I stayed, you could love me. I thought you could forget this stupid hang up you have over that…twit, but you can’t. You just can’t let it go, and this is the final straw.”
“Karen…”
“No, I’m done.”
“Karen.”
“Fuck you, Brad. I am sick and tired of competing with the memory of someone else. I’m outta here.”
I couldn’t hear what Brad said next, but her words had gotten my attention. Still, I looked at my son and smiled and tried not to eavesdrop. Then Karen said, “It doesn’t matter. I called Jimmy anyway. He’s already waiting for me.”
I heard Brad’s voice again, but what he said? Not for me.
Karen stormed through the room toward the bedroom, ignoring us but barely avoiding my son. I grabbed Chris up off the floor and sat on the couch. Brad walked back in the living room with a sheepish look on his face. He looked apologetic. He stood, though, and after a few minutes, Karen rushed back out of the room, a large suitcase in hand. She said, “Don’t bother trying to stop me.” She marched over to the closet and pulled out her purse, then walked to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow to get the rest of my things.” After she stepped out, she slammed it as hard as she could. Brad sighed. He looked tired.
If it had been anyone but Brad, the silence would have been uncomfortable. Finally, Brad looked at Chris and said, “Hey, little buddy.” He looked at me. “Can he have a cookie?”
“Yeah…I think a little spoiling by Uncle Brad would be fine.”
He forced a smile, and we started walking to the kitchen, Chris still in my arms. Brad said, “Sorry you had to hear that shit.” When we got to the kitchen, he offered me a chair, and I sat with Chris on my knee. He got a couple of vanilla wafers out of his cupboard and handed them to Chris, tousling my son’s hair afterward. “So…tell me what happened.”
I looked down at my hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on, Val. I know Ethan did this. What the fuck was going on?” And that’s when he noticed my arm. He reached over and touched the bruises. “What the hell?” His brows furrowed. “Did you call the cops?”
And that’s when the tears just started to fall. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to let it all go. He pulled his chair closer and brought my head to his shoulder. Chris sat on the knee opposite that shoulder and before I closed my eyes, I saw him grab for a lock of Brad’s hair.
I don’t know how long I cried, but Brad wound up fetching a box of tissue at one point, and once my cries died down, he said, “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t even want to think about it anymore.”
He nodded. “You need some sleep.” He tilted his head toward Chris whose own head was bobbing with sleepiness as well. “You can sleep on my bed.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to take your bed.”
“I have a couch, Val. It’s no biggie.”
“I can stay at a motel.”
“Damn it, Val, just say yes.”
I searched his eyes. “What if Karen comes back tonight? I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much.”
“Don’t worry about her. Just get some sleep. You need it.”
Well, I might have needed it, but it didn’t come easily. Chris lay next to a pillow in that queen-size bed, and I lay next to him, but I couldn’t drift off. Instead, I spent that time examining my entire life. I felt guilty too, because I knew I’d likely caused Brad to have a sleepless night as well. His girlfriend was leaving him, and—unless I was mistaken—I suspected the other woman she was hinting about was yours truly. The main reason? Oh, I knew Brad had been with plenty of women, but he hadn’t been serious about any of them. I rarely saw faces and never knew names. In fact, Karen was the only one who even came close, and his feelings for her hadn’t ever seemed completely genuine to me. Of course, I figured I felt that way just because Karen was rude and snotty to me.
I reached over and brushed over Chris’s hair with my hand. My precious child. He was probably the only reason why I was feeling any remorse over what had happened today. I felt angry with myself that I’d allowed this sense of love and loyalty to cloud my judgment. I was a child when I’d married Ethan, when I’d thought I was in love with him. And how many times over the years had I told him we were through and then I would come running back to him later?
Too many. Still, I couldn’t completely regret being with him. I wouldn’t have Chris in my life if not for Ethan. I wouldn’t have experienced a lot of life the way I had if not for him. So…I couldn’t regret my relationship with him, but it was toxic. He was toxic, and I had to break free. I had to do it now before I ran back one last time.
I also realized I wouldn’t have met Brad if not for Ethan.
Every time I tried to drift off, I imagined Ethan’s hands around my neck. What had I ever done to make him feel that much intense passion and rage? All I had ever done was love him and want to save him. But maybe he was past saving.
I heard Brad’s front door close. At first, I thought maybe Karen had come back to make up, but then I heard Brad start up his car and pull out of the driveway. God, Ethan’s scope had no end. My relationship was ruined and then my running to Brad caused him problems too, but I suspected he was trying to track his girlfriend down, patch things up. I wished him the best. Out of all the people I cared about, Brad had my heart the most. I wanted him to do what would make him happy, and if Karen was the way to his happiness, then I hoped he would be able to find her and fix whatever problems I’d managed to cause.
But I’d never admit there was a part of me that hoped Brad’s relationship was over too. And it wasn’t because misery loves company.
It was because of that one thing I still had yet to completely admit to myself.
Chapter Forty
I AWOKE THE next morning and sat up in Brad’s bed. God, that had been hard. I could smell him on his pillow, his sheets, and in between the painful dreams I’d had about Ethan, I dreamed of Brad as well. Not good.
My neck and throat were tender. I knew, though, that the pain was temporary. I stretched and tried to look around the room. It was still semi-dark, and I could tell the sun wasn’t up yet. Chris was still asleep, and that was surprising, but I knew yesterday had been hard on him as well. He was usually an early riser, hungry upon waking, so I knew he’d be up soon. But since he was still asleep and not stirring, I decided to take in the sunrise. I had no idea what would happen today or what was in store for tomorrow, so I wanted—I needed—to enjoy the hope of a sunrise, of a new day. I needed some inspiration and hopefulness. I needed a recharge.
I propped the pillow I’d slept on close to Chris’s side where I’d been sleeping just to prevent him from rolling off my side of the bed, and then I draped my legs over the edge. I’d slept in the shirt and underwear I’d worn the day before. I was going to want a shower at some point, but for now, I just grabbed my jeans off the chair in Brad’s room where I’d laid them last night and slipped them on.
I wasn’t sure what time Brad had returned the night before. I only knew that he had. As I walked through the living room, I saw him sleeping on the couch. Because it was still partially dark, I couldn’t see him well, but I could see that he had his shirt off under the sheet draped over his body. I felt some relief that he was able to go to sleep after what I’d put him through the night before.
Brad’s house was deep in the city so I didn’t know if I could really appreciate the sunrise, but I wanted to try it anyway. As quietly as I could, I unlocked the front door and walked outside onto the front porch. I sat on one of the two plastic chairs there, appreciating the brisk air, and I squinted through the trees to see the first colors of dawn trickling through the leaves.
As I tried to appreciate the beauty before me, my mind wandered back to Ethan. I realized I had not only grown tired of the emotional gauntlet that Ethan had put me through, I was tired of the city. Part of me would always love her, love that she never slept and she brought great minds together, would always love that there were endless things to do, see, be, and explore, would always love the diversity and culture. But she was cruel too. There was no rest in a city, no peace, no quiet…and no mountains. I couldn’t see the Rockies from Brad’s porch, and I missed them. I missed them terribly.
My heart wasn’t here anymore. I yearned to be somewhere quiet, somewhere by nature. Yes, that desire was diametrically opposed to everything I had been over the last few years, surrounded by electric guitars, espresso, fast food, and screaming sex. I still loved the music, but I needed a haven. I needed someplace to hide. I wanted a farm out in the middle of nowhere where I could just garden and chase Chris around a willow tree. I missed home.
I giggled to myself, just picturing that thought in my head, of chasing Chris around a tree in the middle of nowhere, and I almost wanted to share it with someone. And that made me think of Ethan, the man I used to share those silly thoughts with, but that wasn’t the person I wanted to share with today. Truthfully, I knew I probably needed some time alone, some time to heal by myself.
I heard the door open and turned my head. Brad walked out, wearing a t-shirt and holding Chris in his arms. My son said, “Mama,” as Brad sat in the chair next to me. Suddenly, my thoughts grew light again and I smiled.
“How’d you sleep?”
I shrugged. I kept expecting Chris to hold out his arms, wanting me to take him, but he didn’t. That wasn’t a bad thing, but it was an odd behavior for my son. “What about you?”
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