The hardest part though. The part that kills me to admit, is that I’ve let this happen. There was nothing I could do the first time he put his hands on me, but I’ve allowed the hair pulling, wrist grabbing, and cheek squeezing to escalate into what unfolded in my kitchen last week.
Finally returning my gaze back to where my friends huddle together waiting on my explanation, I talk.
“Things haven’t been good for a while now, months, a year almost.” I shrug and explain. “I don’t know how, why, or when it started, but something changed. You all know what me and Jay are like, we’re screaming abuse at each other one minute, ripping each other’s clothes off the next.”
I take another sip of my drink, expecting one of them to comment, ask a question, something, instead, they remain silently watching me.
I place my glass back on the table, and in an attempt to hold myself together for what comes next, I wrap my arms around my middle.
“The abuse being screamed got louder, and the ripping off of each other’s clothes stopped. For a while, there was silence, nothing. We’d go for days without talking. . .” I pause while trying my best to stop the tremble of my lips and the ache in my jaw and chest as I speak.
“Then, one night, he grabbed my hair, the next, my wrist. . .”
“He put his hands on you?” Jo asks.
I shake my head. “Please just let me talk, Jo, let me get this out.”
She pulls out her silver cigarette case and offers them around, even Lou takes one this time.
Lighting up, I draw the tobacco and chemical cocktail into my lungs before letting it out slowly. Despite knowing the harm it’s doing, I enjoy the moment and calm down enough to continue talking without crying.
“He’s rarely home lately, and when he is, he’s so vicious. Not just with his words, but with his actions too. His hair pulling and the throat squeezing isn’t the good kind anymore. . .”
“Loz,” Jemma says my name as if she’s in pain.
“Why didn’t you. . .” I hold my hand up to stop her so I can say what I need to say.
“I know I should’ve done something. Left, or at least told you what was going on, but I thought I could fix things. . . we’re Lauren and Jay.” I shrug and give a knowing half-smile as I look around at my friends. “I throw things, he ducks and laughs, we fuck. . .”
I’m talking through my tears now, just wanting, needing, desperately to get the truth out there.
My legs shake as I feel my entire body vibrate. “I really thought I could save us, but then last Sunday night. . . oh, my god, last Sunday.” I swipe at the tears covering my face as I heave out the words. “Sunday night he attacked me. He dragged me out of the spa by my hair. . .”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of my friends grinds out, but I’ve no clue which one.
And that’s it, that’s all I have in me. I don’t have the strength to hold anything in any longer. I let out a noise that doesn’t even sound like it comes from a human, and as Jo and Jemma move in to hold me up, Lou just stands on her own, off to the side. While Jo and Jemma attempt to console me, I hear Lou speak.
“But why, Lauren? Why would he suddenly flip like that? Is there a trigger, something that sets him off?”
“Are you for fucking real?” Jemma’s voice is low as she stares wide-eyed at Lou.
“Did you hear what she said he’s been doing to her? Does it fucking matter what triggers him? She could fuck another man in front of him on their kitchen bench, and that still, does not, give him the right to touch her like that.”
“I didn’t mean that. I know that. . .” Lou’s wide blue eyes meet mine, pleading for me to understand where she’s coming from, but right now, I’m not really sure of anything.
“I just meant. . . you two are so good together Loz, I just thought maybe with some counselling. . .”
“He fucking hit her,” Jo snaps at Lou. “What part of that are you not getting?”
Lou’s shoulders physically slump, and she stares at the table. “I get all of that, I’m sorry, Lauren. I just hate this for you, I really do.”
Lou has always been the sensitive one out of our group, and I feel for her now as she attempts to process the bombshell I’ve just dropped.
“What can we do? What do you need?” Jo asks.
“You’re not going back there tonight. You can stay at mine, or Jo’s, or wherever, but you’re not going back there,” Jemma states before I can answer Jo.
“I’ll be fine tonight. He’s not been getting home till late all week, and he hasn’t touched me since it happened. I’ll probably be home first and just pretend I’m asleep when he gets in.” I shrug. “It’s what I’ve been doing most nights lately anyway. Besides, there are things in the safe I want to get out. He’ll get an alert as soon as I open it, at least tomorrow I know it’ll take him around an hour to get home once I do it, and by then, I can be long gone.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t told us this before now.”
“Says the woman who kept her pregnancy from us for seven months,” I bite back at Jo.
“Oh, touché. Maybe save some of that fighting spirit for Jay next time he comes at ya.”
“Jo!” Jemma snaps. “Stop being a bitch, and you,” she points at me, “I still don’t understand why you didn’t just leave last Sunday, as soon as it happened.”
Taking another sip of my drink, I consider my answer. “It’s not that simple, Jem. I’ve spent the week getting myself organised. Tomorrow, he has a golf day with some mates. He’ll be up and gone early, that’ll give me a chance to pack the last of my stuff, open the safe, and be gone by the time he gets home.”
I eye each of them. “That’s where you ladies come in. I went to the bank today. . .” I pause a moment, swallowing back the tears that are once again threatening to spill. Shaking my head in an attempt at ridding myself of the overwhelming emotions, I take a deep breath and continue, “Our personal accounts are empty, that’s why I need the cash and jewellery from the safe. It’s not just that, it’s my passport, birth certificate, all of that kind of thing.”
“What the fuck?” Jo questions.
“I don’t know if he anticipated I’d do this and he doesn’t want me to have any money, or if he’s done it so I can’t leave. . . I honestly have no idea what he’s thinking these days, but yeah, nah, there’s no money in our joint accounts, just a couple of thousand I have in my stash account I keep for lending the kids when they ask.”
“That’s not an issue, we’ll help you out with money, with anything. Just let us know what you need,” Jemma offers.
“Come to mine,” Jo adds. “In the morning, I’ll come to yours, help you pack, and then you can come and stay at mine until we can get you sorted out, or for as long as you like, whatever. Just don’t stress about any of that side of things.”
Still feeling shaky but a little less tense, I let out a long breath.
Lou, who’s been mostly quiet since she got her head bitten off, asks, “You feel better now you’ve told us?”
“Yeah,” I say, reaching for her hand. “I know you didn’t mean anything earlier, don’t overthink it, Lou. I know you’ll always have my back.”