“Fine,” I mumbled. I was done trying to convince her of anything. It wasn’t working, and I was wasting my breath.
oooooooo
After leaving the office, I took a short walk to the coffee shop down the block. I ordered a tea, and sat by the window, people watching. The afternoon was slowly turning to evening, and a chill was beginning to form in the air. I should have gone straight home, but I didn’t. I sat there just thinking. Thinking about my life, how things could be different, how things should be different, what it might be like if I was with someone other than Warren. I let my mind wander as I sipped my tea. I started daydreaming about Officer Blake and Ava. I thought about the house he fixed up for me and the treehouse he built for Ava. I thought about our time living at the beach and on the farm. All the sacrifices I made over the years, and the friends who knew nothing about me. Where were they all, and was it even real?
By the time I finished my tea, the sun was setting. I pulled my coat tighter around me as I walked along the sidewalk. I hailed a cab, and made the short ride home. When I climbed out of the cab, I noticed there were no lights on. Warren’s car was in the drive, but it looked like no one was home. I assumed he was working in his office. I slowly climbed the front steps, fumbled in the dim lighting to get the door open, and then shuffled inside. I set my purse and coat on the edge of the couch, and flicked a light on.
“Where have you been?” his voice growled as he stepped around the corner.
I jumped as my hands flew to my chest. “You startled me.”
“Where have you been?” He stepped closer, causing me to sidestep him.
“I had an appointment, remember?” I caressed my belly.
“Right, for that thing.” He curled his lip in disgust.
“This thing is your daughter.” Tears welled in my eyes as my voice shook. How could he be like this about his own child?
“I’ve been sitting here for an hour. It is way past dinner time. Your appointment was hours ago.” His voice grew louder with each statement. “So, I’m going to ask you again… where have you been?” By this point he’d moved in front of me. I had my back against the closed door, and he was leaning inches from my face. I could smell the whisky on his breath, and it made me feel sick.
“I stopped for tea,” I whimpered. I knew I just needed to be honest. He’d still be mad, but lying made it worse.
“Tea?! You were drinking fucking tea while I’m sitting here waiting on you?!” he bellowed.
“I’m sorry.” I sobbed. “I’ll fix something right now.” I started to step around him but he grabbed my upper arm.
“You don’t ever make me wait,” he growled next to my ear as his grip tightened painfully. “You hear me?” I nodded, and he released me. “Now get in there and fix my dinner!”
I moved as quickly as my pregnant body would allow. I had taken out some pork chops earlier in the day, and quickly began to heat the oven. I knew that the night wasn’t going to get better for me, but I didn’t want it to get worse.
oooooooo
When I woke up the next morning, something seemed different. Warren was already out of bed. As I made my way downstairs, I could smell coffee. Warren never made coffee, at least not in years. I stepped into the kitchen to be met with someone who couldn’t be my husband. He was standing in front of the stove, cooking eggs. “Good morning.” He glanced at me over his shoulder and then went back to what he was doing.
“Good morning.” My voice shook. Was this some kind of trick? Maybe I really was going crazy.
“There’s coffee if you want some.” He motioned to the coffee maker. I went to reach for a mug, and he stopped me. “Here.” He handed it to me, and I jumped back. What was going on?
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“I have a meeting this morning, but thought I’d fix us some breakfast first.” He plated the eggs and carried them over to the table.
“Thanks.” I slowly sat and stared at the plate. I was afraid to eat them. What if he did something to them? What if this was a trick?
“I know I don’t cook much, but they can’t be that bad.” He shrugged as he scooped a giant bite into his mouth. I watched, wide-eyed, as he slowly chewed and swallowed. “If you don’t want them, I’ll eat them.” He motioned to my untouched plate.
“Oh, I want them.” I stared at my plate. “They were a little hot.” I went with a logical excuse.
We sat there eating in silence as I wracked my brain for why he was doing this. Warren never did anything nice, and this had to mean something else. It couldn’t just be breakfast.
“I have a business dinner scheduled for tonight. I was thinking I could just have it here.” There it was, the catch. “I won’t have to be out late this way.”
“Ok,” I mumbled. I knew I didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t asking, he was telling. By doing this, he was making sure I didn’t leave the house today. It would take me all day to clean everything to his liking, and cook a meal that he approved of. The fact that he dirtied half the stuff in the kitchen to cook eggs insured that I’d be preparing all day.
“Sorry about all the mess.” He smiled, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a warning. “See you tonight.” He wiped his mouth, tossed the napkin on the table, and left me there.
I surveyed the mess as I finished eating. There was a sink full of dishes, and several pots that were dirty. Dirt was tracked in on the floor as if he’d walked around the yard a few times first. The stove had splatters all over it. Warren knew how to pick up after himself, he just always chose not to. Honestly, it wouldn’t bother me so much if I thought it was accidental, but this was done with purpose.
He put on the act of being nice just to draw me in. I let my guard down, and boom, he drops the hammer. By the time I’m ready for tonight, I won’t even be able to enjoy it. I’ll be exhausted, but he’ll force me to smile and play the loving wife as he lies to his clients in our own house.
Today just might be the push that I need, the push to leave.
Chapter 4
Brooke
I’ve been scrubbing this house from top to bottom all day. I’ve had a ham cooking in the oven for most of the afternoon, and I’ve been hoping that this is good enough to get me through the night. Warren has always put on a show in front of our friends, but it’s after it’s all over that things change. The last time he had a business dinner, it ended with a beating. I only hope that this one is different.
It was around five when Warren came home. He was whistling when he stepped through the door. I knew that it was a warning. Whenever he wanted to appear relaxed, he would whistle. You could tell by the pitch if he was angry or satisfied with what he found. I was trying to change into something he’d find presentable, but my nerves held me captive. His heavy footsteps made it easy to tell where he was.
He ambled around the living room, then into the kitchen. I could hear the oven door open and close. His whistling made a sound of approval. He moved to the dining room, then I heard him on the stairs. As he climbed them, my heart raced and my muscles tightened. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, appraising myself. I still had a small bruise on my forehead, but other than that, I looked pretty normal. The soft cotton dress stretched across my belly before hanging loosely to the ground. It was a deep burgundy with a plunging neckline.