Chapter Four
Everything I did for her felt like it was tinged with so much pain and fear.
What if I did something wrong and triggered something horrible for her?
What if I did something right, but it made her think about all that she’d lost because of him?
I was living on a knife edge, and I had no idea what to do.
She’d always loved pasta dishes, especially my attempts at carbonara and lasagne, but what if she hated those things now too?
I mean, she’d gone from loving a colourful life to being aggressively against it.
I knew it was his voice I was hearing then, and not hers, but it fucking ate away at my soul, because she’d always been so lively and outspoken.
“Want me to cook?”
I spun on my heel, a frying pan in one hand, and the other losing its grip on the spatula I was holding for no fucking reason.
“Huh?”
She hadn’t initiated a single conversation so far, and the first time she did, I acted like I didn’t even fucking hear her? Nice form, dickhead.
“I mean, no. It’s all good. You relax. You know, watch TV, or something. You don’t need to do anything. I’ve got it. Fuck me, I’m rambling.”
She almost smiled. Almost. What would it take to lift her out of her sorrow and make her smile? Fuck me, I’d kill for a laugh from her.
“I don’t mind helping. You’re helping me.”
“Glory, really, it’s all good. Go chill.”
“I’m not lazy!” She snapped, slamming a delicate palm against the kitchen counter in a rare burst of anger that was a fucking relief to see.
Not because I wanted her angry, but because I hated the emotionless version of her I’d picked up from that train station.
I wanted her fire back, because it was her.
It was her personality, her drive. She was so fucking strong before, and now it’s like a transparent version of her was all that was left.
A non-corporeal shadow, something that could float away and be forgotten.
“Uh… I never said you were. I wanted to treat you, will you just let me do that? I promise my cooking has improved since the last time.” I offered her a grin, but she practically shuddered.
“I must help. I don’t get to sit on my ass just because I’m your guest. I’m a woman. My job is here, in the kitchen.”
“What the fuck?! Tell me you don’t really believe that!
Tell me you get how fucking insane that is.
You know what I’m hearing? I’m hearing some other fucker’s voice coming from your mouth!
Glory, where’s the sass? Where’s you handing me my ass, grabbing yourself a beer, and sitting on the fucking sofa like I wanted? ”
She’d been flinching from my tone, shrivelling under the force of my increasingly louder voice, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself, and when I stepped in her direction, desperate to apologise, to comfort her, she practically screamed and fell back onto the floor, with her hands in front of her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll do what you want!” She gasped out, and I swear my fucking heart broke in that moment. I thought it was broken before, but this? Her cowering from me. ME. Her thinking my suggestion was some order she had to follow or suffer the consequences of? Fucking hell.
I dropped to my knees in front of her, maybe a metre away, because I was afraid of getting too close.
“Glory, please… I’m sorry,” I whispered, desperate to edge closer, but just as determined not to damage her further. How the fuck was this all that was left of her?
Emotion was burning its way up my throat, clawing its way, dousing my earlier anger with horror and pain. This was what I just did to her. I yelled. I scared her. I added to all the awful things she’d suffered, and made her feel worse.
“Fucking hell, what have I done?” The words burst ragged and raw from my throat, leaving me sounding gruff and raspy. I fucking broke her.
I didn’t fight the tears that poured from my eyes as I edged closer on my knees.
I didn’t fight the sob that rose from my throat, as I berated myself viciously for the way I’d acted.
I didn’t stop edging closer either. I couldn’t.
I needed to hold her, to comfort her. To prove I’m not him. To prove I wasn’t the monster he was.
“Oh god… Glory, I’m sorry.”
She was scooting back from me, her arms still held between us, like she needed to defend herself from me. From her best friend. From the only man who’d loved her the way she deserved, because that fucker certainly didn’t. I should have fought for her back then. I should have done something.
“Please!” She whimpered, reaching the carpeted hall, and huddling in the doorway. Fuck. What should I do?
I tilted my wrist, scrolling through phone numbers on my watch, finding Micro eventually, despite the blurring of tears as I tried to read and type.
Me: She needs help now. Please send the therapist. I think I broke her.
Thank fuck for this stupid thing, because my phone was in the other room, but I couldn’t move right now, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to scare her further, by stepping over her.
“Glory, please, just take a breath. Any breath, please.” She was gasping shallowly, her hands gripping the doorframe for dear life, her knuckles white and tensed so brutally they must be aching already.
“I won’t hurt you.”
She shuddered again, her head dipping lower. Fuck. Was she passing out? Was she not getting enough air?
“Glory?”
She shook her head, trying to breathe in larger breaths.
“No,” she whispered, tucking herself closer to the doorframe, like it was her saviour now.
It killed me to see her this way. It killed me to know that whatever I was feeling, she was a million times worse off.
What horrors were replaying in her head?
What terrors had she been through to make her this way?
My wrist buzzed, and I tilted the watch to read the message.
Micro: In hand. It’s going to take them about an hour and a half. Lissa can call while they travel?
Jesus, was that even going to work?
I watched Gloria trembling in the doorway and knew I couldn’t get my phone for that. Not right now. Sure, the watch could take the call, but it didn’t seem discreet enough. Hell, even approaching her with it could make her panic again anyway.
Me: Can’t get her to the phone. Tell them the code to get in is 4259. The keypad’s on the door.
Fuck me. Now to keep her as calm as I can until help arrives, at which point it’ll either help, or she’ll kill me in the physical sense too. At this point, I’d willingly endure that just to see some animation from her.
Gloria
It was like being trapped in a box, like I’d been put away for so long that I couldn’t even see the edges, or any way out.
Deep down, I knew he wasn’t Sean, but inside my head, inside my heart, all the places Sean had burrowed into and rotted from the inside out, I knew I had to watch my behaviour.
I had to be the perfect wife, perfect housekeeper, perfect cook, perfect everything.
Any kind of failure was too dangerous. Never disappoint.
Never show him up. Never ever embarrass.
“Glory, please, look at me,” he begged, and I knew it was Nate.
I knew it was someone who’d never hurt me, but I think there was a part of me who believed it was never that simple.
Men have expectations, and they’re always capable of losing their temper.
He’d yelled. He’d yelled because I got it wrong.
That was the first step with this stuff. I knew enough to know that now.
“Please. I’m here, Glory. I’m nobody to fear, I promise.”
I scrambled back as he reached for me again, and I knew I was being irrational, pathetic, cowardly. I wished I could be what he wanted me to be, but it’d take time to learn his wants and needs, and then I could please him. Make him proud of me.
“Fucking hell,” he whispered, scrambling up from the floor and heading behind the counter. No. He was getting something to hurt me with! I lurched to my feet, darting away from the kitchen, looking for somewhere, anywhere, to hide.
“Glory! Where are… what are you doing?”
I ran for the room he’d given me, because that was my hiding place, that’d keep me safe. Wouldn’t it? Wasn’t it my sanctuary, my safety from men and their evil?
I slammed the door behind me, and the sudden sharp sound sent another wave of panic through my body, because Sean would have stormed in here, and beaten me for daring to show any temper, or making so much noise!
I dropped down onto the carpet, my back against the bed as I hugged my knees.
I was waiting, listening. Would he follow?
Would he yell at me? Would he storm in here?
I hadn’t even checked if the door could be locked, and that was because I was stupid, just like Sean said.
Sean saw all my flaws, and paraded them for all to see, to show me that I was worthless without him.
Now that I was away from him, I was proving him right. I was pathetic. Worthless. Useless.
A sound by the door froze every inch of me, as I waited in terror for him to storm in. Instead there was a light tap of fingers on the door.
“Glory? Babe, it’s okay. I’ve left a cuppa out here for you. I’ll stay downstairs. I uh… I’m there if you need me.”
He sounded defeated, broken. Had I done that to him already? Nate was my best friend, but somehow I couldn’t help seeing things he wasn’t even showing me yet. The dark side all men had, that they used to break their women. He had it. It was there. It wasn’t worth the risk.
I heard him sigh, and then his footsteps faded away, and I heard nothing after that. Was he gone? Was he laying in wait? No. I heard him speaking to someone downstairs. A phone call? A visitor?
I crawled to the bedroom door, and slowly opened it, finding a steaming mug of tea waiting for me, along with a pack of chocolate biscuits.
The sweetness of the gesture made my throat burn, my eyes pricking with tears.
It was Nate. Why was I so afraid of him?
He wasn’t like Sean. He couldn’t be. Could he?