Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection

by Dakota Willink

  His eyes flashed and before I could even think to react, the back of his hand slammed against my face. The blow forced my head to whip to the side.

  I cried out, but not as much from the pain as from the shock of being struck. I’d never been hit before, not even by my mother in discipline. I’d seen my father hit her when I was young, but that’s as far as my knowledge about the pain went. There was no way I could have known the pain was so much more than skin deep. I felt this hurt in the depths of my heart, so shocking it rattled my soul.

  I reached up and brushed a finger over my lower lip. When it connected, I felt something warm and sticky beneath my fingertip. I poked out my tongue and swiped. The metallic taste of blood coated my taste buds. Rage built up inside me, an instinctive need to fight back. Yet… somehow, I knew I couldn’t. Ethan was so much bigger and stronger. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Calm yourself down, Gianna! You’re hysterical,” he snapped, then took a deep breath and adapted a softer tone. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, honey. It’s just that you say things you shouldn’t. You need to learn to hold your tongue sometimes. Behave like you should and this won’t happen again.”

  He spoke so calmly, as if he hadn’t just slapped me at all.

  Visions of my mother rushed to the forefront. I saw her sad, tear-filled eyes as she apologized to me after my father had hit her.

  “I’m so sorry, my sweet. You shouldn’t have had to see that. I won’t let him do it again. I promise.”

  But he did hit her again. And again. And again.

  I still didn’t know why my father eventually left. Did she throw him out? Did she press charges and force him away? My mother and I never talked about it and I never wanted to ask. All I knew was that I never had to see that sad look on my mother’s face again. I had often wondered why she didn’t leave after that first blow but I dismissed it as being a complicated situation, one that my faint childhood memories couldn’t quite piece together. I loved my mother deeply, but I didn’t want to become that woman with the sad eyes. I wanted to be stronger.

  I glared at him and took in his words. Time passed. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours. I wasn’t sure. All I could do was stare. Things hadn’t been good between Ethan and me, but I had no idea how bad things really were beneath the surface. He had hit me—actually hit me—and thought it was my fault somehow. A bitter cold seeped into my bones, a cold so chilling, my heart turned to ice.

  “Don’t do that ever again,” I stated, my voice matching the calm tenor of his despite the fact every part of my being was shaking.

  “Don’t do what? Are you saying I can’t hit you?”

  “No. You. Can’t.”

  I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. The fist he landed to my face made me see stars. I fell back, landing on the hardwood floor with a crunch. I laid there in shock, disbelief rocking me to the very core.

  Slowly, I turned to look up at him. He stared down at me with disgust, as if I were a misbehaving child that he didn’t want to deal with.

  “I pay for this house, therefore it’s mine. My house, my rules. And if I want to hit you, I will.”

  No. No. No. This isn’t happening to me—it can’t be happening.

  I would never allow myself to be somebody’s punching bag. Rolling to the side, I slowly got back on my feet. He took a threatening step toward me. I braced myself and put up my hands. Ethan began to laugh.

  “Honey, don’t be foolish. Do you honestly think you can fight me? Come on now. I’m a man. You can’t overpower me.”

  “You are not allowed to hit me,” I reiterated, trying to summon all the courage I could muster amidst the implausible situation. He took another step toward me. I stepped back. This continued until my back was against the doorframe leading to the basement. My body shook in terror.

  How can I be so afraid of the man I’m supposed to love?

  It was like I was living in a dream. Everything was surreal. My stomach rolled as I battled with the urge to vomit. I breathed deep, in and out, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest. Once. Twice. Three times.

  “That’s it, Gia. Deep breaths. Don’t you see? It’s better now that you know the truth. I was getting tired of hiding it anyway. Going forward, instead of telling you I’m going to work, I’ll just tell you I’m going Cynthia’s,” he said softly.

  His hand came up to caress my cheek and I flinched. Pure instinct drove me to push it away, unable to stand his touch any longer. It was a foolish move given my situation. That only angered him once again. He grabbed my arms, squeezing them so tight I thought the bones would break.

  “Let go of me!” I yelled. “I’m done, Ethan! I’m leaving!”

  His demonic laughter filled the room before he leveled a glare at me. His eyes turned black as midnight.

  “Do you honestly think I’d let you leave me?”

  “I said let go of me, you bastard!” I repeated frantically. I fought him, struggling to release myself from his firm hold. I stepped back to try to get away, completely forgetting I was so near to the basement stairs. My foot caught nothing but air and I began to fall.

  My back hit halfway down the stairs, knocking the air from my lungs as I tumbled the rest of the way down. Sprawled at the base, I couldn’t breathe.

  And the pain.

  Pain rocketed though my body, over my skin, until it felt like my internal organs were on fire.

  “Ethan, I…” The whisper trailed off and I clutched my abdomen. That’s where the pain was the worst. It took me a minute before I remembered.

  The baby.

  My eyes slowly moved to the top of the staircase. Ethan stood there with a disgusted look on his face as he shook his head.

  “I’m going to meet Cynthia now. Don’t do anything rash while I’m gone because I’ll know. Remember, I’m the Chief of Police. All the cops work for me. They won’t help you, honey. You and I both know it. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”

  And with that, he disappeared from my line of sight. A few seconds later, I heard the front door open and close. Wrapping my arms around myself, I curled into a fetal position and began to cry.

  I don’t know how long I stayed on the basement floor. Time ceased to exist as warm blood pooled between my legs. Was it bad that a part of me would be relieved if the blood meant a miscarriage? How could I feel that when there were so many women who wished to be blessed with a baby? But I also knew no child should be brought into my world—at least not right now. Anxiety, hope, fear, confusion, and anger consumed me. The emotions swirled as I clung tight to the pain, unable to move.

  Eventually, I crawled up the stairs. My vision was hazy and I wondered if I had hit my head on the way down. Sliding my broken body across the kitchen floor, I reached up to feel for my cell phone that I’d left on the center island. Once I had it in hand, I propped myself up to a sitting position and leaned against the base.

  Then I dialed the only person I knew I could trust.

  “Nat, I need your help.”

  4

  I staggered into the emergency room with Natalia supporting most of my weight. A nurse who was passing by saw us and gasped. I could barely contain my relief when she rushed to place a wheelchair under me. I collapsed into it and smiled faintly at her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” She paused and studied my face, smiling sympathetically. I wasn’t sure what I looked like, but her kind eyes embarrassed me. I felt my face flush with a shame I knew I shouldn’t feel. “Let’s get you over to the registration desk so we can get you seen by a doctor.”

  “She’s pregnant and bleeding pretty bad,” Natalia told her.

  The nurse looked to my lap and her eyes widened, seeing the bloodstain between my thighs for the first time.

  “On a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?” she asked, her tone taking on a level of urgency that hadn’t been there before.

  “Um, maybe around a 5. Just really bad cramping,” I told her
. It was hard to tell. The throbbing in my head was so bad, I wasn’t sure if it was masking the pain in my abdomen.

  “Okay, then. I’ll page OBGYN while you get registered. What’s your name, hon?”

  “Gianna. Gianna Walker.”

  “Well, Ms. Walker. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you.”

  Once she stepped away, Natalia wheeled me over to the registration desk. The receptionist behind the counter took my information quickly and efficiently. When she needed to collect the co-payment for the emergency room visit, my hands shook as I fumbled with trying to get my wallet out of my purse.

  “Here, let me help you,” Natalia offered. Plucking the wallet free, she unclasped it at the front and opened it. “Which card?”

  “The Visa is fine.”

  Natalia slid the plastic through the card reader and we waited while it processed.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Walker. The payment was declined,” the receptionist said awkwardly.

  “That’s strange. There’s always money in that account.” I shook my head in confusion. “Nat, can you pull out the American Express. I’m not sure why the Visa isn’t working.”

  Natalia swiped once again, only for that card to be denied too.

  “That son of a bitch,” Natalia cursed under her breath. Reaching into her own purse, she hastily pulled out her own credit card and slid it through the card reader. Her card went through without a problem. I looked up at my friend in disbelief.

  “You don’t think…” I trailed off.

  “That he canceled your credit cards? Yeah. That’s exactly what I think.”

  Before I could even process her words or what it could potentially mean, the nurse who greeted us at the door poked her head around the corner.

  “The doctor can see you now, Ms. Walker. If you’re finished here, the two of you can follow me this way.”

  An hour later, Natalia and I sat in silence as a stream of doctors and nurses bustled passed my cordoned off area in the ER. I’d been examined, had a pelvic ultrasound, and was now just waiting on the doctor to return. As it turned out, I had been about eight weeks pregnant.

  But not anymore.

  I felt empty. Drained and hollow. But even more so, I felt confused. I was broken hearted over the baby I’d barely had a minute to love, but I also felt relief over no longer being pregnant. I needed to sort out my feelings. My marriage was in shambles. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around what happened. I didn’t know if Ethan and I should seek counseling to try to repair our broken marriage or if I should just leave him. I only knew I entered into marriage knowing it was for better or for worse. After tonight, things had definitely crossed over to worse. Much worse. Just thinking about it brought on a fresh wave a tears.

  “Shh… It will be okay,” Natalia whispered softly as she rubbed her hand up and down my back.

  “Will it?” I sobbed. I looked up at her through my tear-filled eyes and saw worry lines marring her pretty face.

  “Gia, tell me what happened. Everything. I know you didn’t get that shiner from falling down the stairs.”

  I unconsciously reached up to touch the tender spot around my eye. Shame blossomed on my cheeks again and I glanced away, unable to look at my friend. When I had called Natalia, I planned to tell her everything, but Ethan’s words about not doing anything rash rang in my mind. Instead of telling her the truth, I told her I’d just found out I was pregnant but had fallen down the stairs. When I choked out the word miscarriage, she was at my house within ten minutes to bring me to the hospital.

  When she arrived on my doorstep, I knew she immediately saw through the façade. Natalia was far from naïve. She saw the bruises wrapping around each arm, my split lip, and the spreading discoloration on my face. However, she didn’t ask questions and temporarily let me have my lie. When my credit cards were declined, it wasn’t hard to draw conclusions about my situation. I owed her an explanation. Yet here I sat, staring at the one person I could always count on, but I couldn’t find the words.

  “I don’t know what happened, Nat. I can’t explain it. Ethan just… He just...”

  He just what? Lost it. Belittled me. Beat me. Cheated on me. Became a stranger before my very eyes.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to speak those things out loud. I let my statement trail off, hoping Natalia would fill in the blanks. However, I knew her better than that. I could feel her probing eyes on me and wasn’t shocked when she came right out with it.

  “He did this, didn’t he?” she asked quietly, but I could hear the venom in her voice. I could only nod my confirmation. “Has he ever hit you before?”

  I shook my head.

  “No. I mean, he’s lost his temper and shoved me before, but it wasn’t anything that really hurt me. He almost always apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again.” Even to my own ears, my words sounded weak and pathetic.

  “But it did, didn’t it?”

  “I know what you’re thinking but it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. If he pushed me or something like that, there was always a reason—stressed from work or tired from a long day.” I defended, avoiding her question. I didn’t know if I was attempting to defend Ethan or myself. “He’s never actually hit me like this before, Nat.”

  “Well, the bastard certainly did this time. What are you going to do? Or should I ask, what do you want to do? Do you want to leave him?”

  I stared blankly at the light blue polka-dot pattern of my hospital gown.

  Did I want to leave him?

  “I’m not this woman, Nat. I’m not the kind of woman who lets her husband beat her.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  My head snapped up to look at her.

  “What kind of question is that? He’s my husband.”

  “That’s not an answer, Gia.”

  “Yes, I love him. And he loves me. I know he does.”

  “What he’s doing isn’t love,” she said and shook her head sadly. “There are other men out there—kind and good men—who wouldn’t treat their wife this way.”

  I thought back to my brief encounter with the stranger in the courtyard on my wedding day. It was odd for that to come to mind right now, for a second time in a day when my world was literally crumbling to pieces all around me. Our brief interaction should have been inconsequential, especially after all this time. Yet, the details from that night collected, pulling from the deep recesses of my memory.

  I wished I could tell Natalia how I was completely at ease under the kind gaze of a strange man in ways I’d never felt with Ethan. I rarely kept anything from my best friend, but this felt too personal to share for unexplainable reasons. It was true that nothing happened that night so long ago. It had only been a half an hour of casual conversation, but it felt significant—almost seismic even now. I should have forgotten about it, but I couldn’t stop myself from remembering. I wondered if he ever found that special woman to treasure.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” I eventually said.

  “You should go to the police.”

  I scoffed.

  “Nat, Ethan is the police.”

  “So what? There are laws, Gia! He can’t get away with this.”

  More of Ethan’s words from earlier crashed into my consciousness.

  “Nat, I don’t think you understand. My reality definitely has its challenges because Ethan is the chief of police, but the reality for the average woman isn’t much better. You hear about it on the news every day. A woman can walk into a police station, file a complaint and have her abuser arrested. After that, he can just get out on bail and go after her again.”

  “That’s what restraining orders are for,” Natalia quipped.

  “What? That flimsy piece of paper? A woman can have all the restraining orders she wants. It won’t stop her abuser if he wants to get to her. If he comes around, the only thing the woman can do is call the police again. My case is so much worse because I just happen to be married to a cop. If I called for
help, a report wouldn’t even get filed. No cop in their right mind would want to take down their boss.”

  “So forget the report. Just leave him. You can come stay with me.”

  I looked at her, finding myself at a loss for words once more. I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know if I could leave him. I still loved him despite everything that happened tonight and I couldn’t turn my feelings off that easily. Emotional confusion aside, there was also the money situation to consider. I didn’t have a pot to piss in—as was proven an hour earlier when my credit card wouldn’t go through. Ethan had said he wouldn’t let me leave him. I was sure he canceled them to remind me that he controlled me financially. In fact, he controlled everything. He held all the cards in a deck he strategically stacked against me.

  “I should have seen this coming,” I whispered. “There were signs right from the beginning, but I just didn’t see them. Or maybe I didn’t want to see them.”

  Natalia shifted her position to sit down next to me on the hospital bed.

  “What do you mean there were signs?” she asked.

  “It started right after our very first coffee date. We began texting and I thought he was amazing—perfect boyfriend material, you know? But the texting alone should have been a huge red flag. Some days I’d receive over fifty messages—really long ones too. At one point he’d said to me, ‘I send you really long messages but you only send one sentence back.’ It really bothered him, so I tried to make more of an effort. After our third date, he said he loved me.”

  “I remember when you told me. You said you loved him too. I was worried about how hard and fast you were falling for him. Outside of our shifts together at Teddy’s, I barely saw you.”

  I smiled ironically.

  “No, but Ethan knew that. Remember my birthday that year? We had a girl’s night out. He encouraged that to happen. He said it was good for me to hang out with my friends. I think it was just another way for him to fake how perfect he was. Just a few nights after that, as I neared the end of my shift at Teddy’s, he came by the bar. He told me how much he wished I was going back to his place after work. I said I felt the same way and he asked me to move in with him. This was just six weeks after we met.”