Chasing Forever

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Merritt

T hen

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I double checked to make sure the bruises that speckled my body in the areas where clothes couldn’t hide their existence were covered beneath the layers of concealer I’d spent fifteen minutes applying.

The one on my collarbone that would peek out from my top was perfectly concealed. The fingerprint shaped bruises on my wrist could be covered by the thick band of my smart watch, and the faded yellow and green spot at my temple was easy enough to hide with my makeup, but I’d have to make sure not to tuck my hair behind my ear, just in case.

Everything else would be hidden easily enough beneath my work uniform of light blue scrubs.

I’d gotten really good at hiding the evidence of my husband’s anger. Six years of practice had turned me into a seasoned professional.

If only my gift with concealer hid the pain as well. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do about that other than grin and bear it. Something else I’d gotten really good at over the span of my marriage to Warren. Ibuprofen took the edge off, and that was the best I could hope for—at least without a trip to the emergency room, which was out of the question.

Blinking away the burn forming behind my eyes that made my vision foggy, I twisted to look at the place on my back that had been giving me the most trouble. Along the right side, about five inches above my hip and three inches from my spine, was a contusion perfectly shaped like the sole of Warren’s shiny black loafer.

A flash of that particular fight from the night before popped into my head, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut and focus on my breathing to force back the acidic burn crawling up my throat. The crash of the plate against the tile floor, the harsh words he yelled with each blow he rained down on me, his foot on my back keeping me pinned to the ground as the shards of ceramic poked through my clothes and sliced my skin.

I carefully pulled in a steadying breath until a sharp stab shot through my midsection. I’d been down this road enough times to know that my ribs weren’t broken, but they were still sore as hell, probably deeply bruised.

That was another thing I’d gotten really good at... cataloging my injuries. I knew when something was broken or simply sprained, when a tendon had been stretched to the max, and the symptoms of a concussion—both minor and severe. Those were talents I never would have thought I’d need, and I certainly never imagined I’d need those skills because of my own husband.

The man I married was supposed to love and protect me, honor and cherish me, just as I did him. I always imagined the man I married would be like the handsome, noble princes in the fairy tales I loved to watch as a little girl. He was supposed to be the one to protect me from all the evil and pain in the world, not be the cause of it.

He was supposed to be the one I was safe with, not the one who hurt me.

That burn behind my eyes sparked back to life. My nose began to sting, and I had to pinch my eyes shut against the building threat of tears. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

It was moments such as these that the hold I had on the wall I’d built in my mind slipped and memories I fought so hard not to remember crept to the forefront. Those tiny little actions that anyone could have misconstrued as someone simply having a bad day were now glaring red flags that I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d missed. Looking back, the signs were there, flashing the most blinding neon, but in the moment, I hadn’t seen them for what they were. I’d asked myself a million times if I was that blind, but the truth was, he was a good actor.

I knew I wasn’t to blame for Warren’s rage, that no matter what he said, it wasn’t my fault that he hit me. But sometimes those intrusive thoughts were too hard to ignore, and they carried a weight that could easily drown me if I wasn’t careful.

I pulled in a steadying breath through my nose and blew it past my trembling lips as I forced my eyes open once more and took in the woman standing before me. I barely recognized the reflection staring back at me. The sad, hopeless eyes, the tense shoulders and hands that were always curled into fists because there wasn’t a single moment of the day where my body wasn’t braced for the next outburst. My chest was a hollow cavern, my heart having shriveled smaller and smaller with every hit and cruel word. It was so small I would have worried it wasn’t there at all if it didn’t still beat for one singular person in my life.

A lone tear broke free and slipped down my cheek just as Warren’s frame filled the doorway to the bathroom. His face scrunched with grief that I used to believe, but now saw it for the manipulation it was.

“Oh, god, baby. No.” My lungs seized as he shot forward, wrapping his arms around me from behind and lowering his face to the crook of my neck. The smell of his cologne wrapped around me like a thick, suffocating blanket. The expensive scent of clean cotton and woodsy-ness made my stomach revolt, the breakfast I’d forced down only an hour ago threatening to make a reappearance.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed into my skin, and it took everything to keep my top lip from curling in disgust at those familiar, pleading words. “Please don’t cry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

But he wasn’t. Not really.

I’d heard it a million times. He was sorry. He hated himself for losing control. He wished he could take it back. And the topper... he would never do it again.

Lies. Lies. Lies .

His arms constricted, pulling my back flush against his chest, nuzzling deeper into my neck. My skin crawled everywhere he touched. Shivers of revulsion ran through me as he peppered my shoulder and neck with kisses. “I swear to you, Merritt, it’ll never happen again. Never. I mean it this time. I’ll get help. I’ll talk to someone; you have my word.”

Those very promises kept me from leaving for so long... the heartfelt words spoken with such remorse, the tears that always rimmed his eyes as he took in the damage he’d caused. For so long , I believed he meant them; he really was sorry and wanted to get help. That he loved me as much as he claimed. But now I knew the truth. They were as empty as I was inside. Hollow words that tore another piece of me away until there was hardly anything left.

“Please say you forgive me,” he begged, trailing his lips up my temple. “I love you, Mer.” The way he held me sure didn’t feel like love. It felt like possession. Ownership. His arms were like steel bands around my torso, one hand gripping firmly to my hip as the other held on to my arm. “I love you so much.”

My chin trembled as I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep living like this. Warren had already stolen so much of me that I was scared I’d wake up one day soon and there would be nothing left at all. No will, no drive, not even the smallest niggling of hope. I was terrified I’d blink and be nothing more than a shell.

“Say it back, baby,” he pleaded, his breath rustling the hair at the nape of my neck as he continued to kiss my skin feverishly. I could feel what it was doing to him, the evidence of his arousal plowing into my backside, and it took everything in me not to get sick. “Tell me you still love me.”

My lips refused to move, my tongue revolting at the thought of forming those words. My body literally wouldn’t allow me to let that lie out.

I had loved him. Madly. For a time. And I thought he loved me the same way. In the beginning, the good times outweighed the bad. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me. If we were in the same room, it never failed that I could feel his gaze tracking me the whole time. The passion between us was combustible, making it so easy to believe him when he promised he would never hurt me again. He had to mean it, right? Because he loved me so damn much.

But I learned a long time ago that obsession was different than love. It was like poison, slowly eating away at everything it touched. It ate away at my friends until there were none left, at my hobbies, at anything that took time away from him . It ate away at my relationship with the only family I had left until I was completely and utterly alone.

“Merritt?”

His head came up, his dark eyes meeting mine in the mirror above the sink. How was it possible for a monster to be as handsome as he was? As horrible as it made me sound, his looks had been the first thing I noticed about him, what drew me in. They were the reason I said yes when he approached me at that bar all those years ago and asked if he could buy me a drink. They were why I’d given him my number without hesitation and agreed to a first date.

Those looks had only gotten better with each passing year, but I couldn’t see them anymore. All I saw was a monster.

At my silence, the contrite mask he came into the bathroom wearing slowly fell away. There was that telltale tick in his jaw. The tightening around his eyes and lips. “Merritt.” My name came out a little rougher as his arms grew tighter, squeezing at my injured ribs and causing me to suck in a pained gasp. But despite seeing that he was hurting me, he didn’t loosen his hold. “Say it.”

“I—” I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. Something inside of me had broken. Maybe Warren himself had caused it, but whatever it was, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I loved him. Even knowing what would happen if I denied what he wanted.

Warren stepped back, grabbing me by my arm and using his grip to whip me around so fast my neck snapped painfully. “Fucking say it .”

The mask had fallen, revealing the monster lurking beneath. The real Warren.

My whole body began to tremble as I tugged at my arm, trying to get free. Fear and adrenaline had dumped into my bloodstream. “Warren, let me go.”

“Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult, huh? Why do you have to make such a big deal out of every little thing? I already apologized, what more do you want?” he shouted. “You push and push until I have no choice.”

It was as if a switch inside me flipped with those last words. My lips parted and the words came out before I had a chance to stop them.

“I don’t love you.”

What came next was worse than anything before. Because for the first time since I met him, no matter how violent he was, no matter how cruel or terrifying, I still didn’t give him the words he wanted. After he finished, I lay on the bathroom floor, tears spilling down my face as every inch of me throbbed with each agonizing breath I took.

A part of me feared that I would never get out. That this was all that was left of my life.

But what I didn’t know, what I’d lost all faith in, was that angels really did exist. I found that out the next day when Blythe Fanning followed me into a bathroom and saved my life.