THIRTEEN
Madelyn
Blowing out the last candle, I drop back into the chair and welcome the darkness that fills the room.
He forgot about dinner. About me.
Today is our anniversary. One year of being man and wife.
David and I should be celebrating, but he’s not here.
Ignoring the feeling of hopelessness churning in my stomach, I stand from the table, leaving the plates of cold food behind.
This house doesn’t feel like home.
The weeks decorating, arranging everything to perfection. The photographs lining the walls and shelves, displays of once-happy memories for all to see. The mixture of his things and mine.
None of it makes a damn bit of difference.
There’s no happiness here.
I thought that losing my baby would be the lowest point in my life. Truthfully, it’s the most painful, but not the lowest.
No. I’ve identified a lower moment. A moment that can’t be changed. One I can’t erase. One I can never come back from.
And as I sit here in the middle of the night, wondering where my husband is, wondering who he’s with...
I have no one to blame but myself.
They tried to give me an out, but I was too much of a damn fool to take it. Too selfish. Too stubborn. Too fucking stupid.
I made my bed, now I have to lie in it...even if it’s alone.
The snick of the lock causes me to stir, the slam of the door jolts me from sleep.
David stumbles in, tossing his keys toward the table in the entryway. He stares blankly for a second, laughing as they miss and clatter to the floor. Toeing off his shoes, he heads to the kitchen without noticing me in the dark.
I listen as he rustles around in the fridge, cursing as he drops something. Moments later, I watch as the light flickers on and David stops dead in his tracks. His attention isn’t on me. Not yet. He’s staring at the dining room table, eyes blurry and unfocused.
He scrubs a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that I can’t hear. Silence reigns for several seconds before he pounds his fist on the table causing the dinnerware to clink and clatter.
“Fuck!”
My gasp draws his attention and he moves toward me with clumsy, unbalanced steps.
“Madelyn, I’m so sorry.” He slurs.
Apologizing is something he’s gotten extremely good at doing. Too bad they’re useless, empty apologies.
Shaking my head at him, I stand from the couch where I fell asleep.
“I don’t want to hear it, David.” I say, turning away from him. “We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re sober.”
David grabs my arm, preventing me from leaving the room.
“Don’t walk away when I’m trying to apologize to you, sweetheart.”
I stand motionless. Distinctly aware of the tightening grip of his fingers on my flesh.
“I didn’t mean to miss dinner. I know we were supposed to celebrate. A year, right sweetheart? A year of marriage is such a big deal. Things got so crazy at the restaurant and I lost track of time. I’ll make it up to you, baby. I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
His drunken rambling fuels the fire burning in my chest.
Empty promises to match those empty apologies.
“You’re drunk, David. The restaurant closed hours ago.” I try and fail to pull my arm away from him. “Tonight was supposed to be about us. I left work early. Cooked dinner. Got dressed up. Tried to make tonight special for you. To make you happy. To please you. It’s never enough. You couldn’t even be bothered to come home to me.”
“No, baby. It is enough and you do make me happy.”
David pulls my body against his, instantly overwhelming me with the scent of scotch, cheap perfume, and sex. Gagging, I try again to pull away.
Anger overrules my fear and I lash out.
“Who is she, David?” Finally managing to free myself from his grip, I let him have it. “I can smell her on your fucking clothes!”
David’s mood changes in an instant.
His calm, soothing side disappears as the stony, serious side takes its place.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Madelyn.”
“A year. Only a year of marriage and you’re already fucking around on me? Why can’t I be good enough for you? I’ve given you everything! Why the hell did you marry me if you can’t even stay faithful?”
A sharp, burning pain across my cheek interrupts my tirade.
My eyes shoot to David—history repeating itself—but this time he doesn’t look the least bit apologetic.
“You don’t get to question me, wife .” He sneers. “A good wife doesn’t question her husband. Your place is in this home, taking care of my needs. Not asking questions about things that don’t concern you, Remember your vows, Madelyn. Obey .”
Last time he raised his hand to me, shock and fear made me cower. Not this time.
“A good wife?” I spit. “You want to talk about vows? What happened to your vows to honor and protect me? Huh? A good husband doesn’t raise his hand to his wife.”
In a flash, David is next to me, hands wrapped around my biceps.
For a brief moment, I look down, focusing on his hands. Memories wash over me, times where his hands caressed me so gently, with so much care and love. Those same hands now squeeze down like a vise, reddening the skin and bruising below the surface.
“You need to learn your place. I will do what I want, when I want. You don’t get to question me.”
“Let go of me, David. I’m not doing this with you.” My voice falters as his grip grows stronger. Fear is surfacing quickly.
“You don’t have a choice. Seems my pretty little wife has suddenly grown a set of balls.” He pulls me toward the bedroom. “Looks like I need to remind you that I’m the man in this relationship.”
A long-sleeved shirt may hide the bruises, but it’s more difficult to hide my wince when Grams bumps into me in the bakery’s kitchen. Thankfully, Grams is too distracted to notice.
Unfortunately, she does notice that I’m more quiet and sullen than usual. It requires too much forethought and energy to put on a happy facade all day and I simply can’t be bothered.
“You don’t seem like yourself, little one.”
“I’m okay, Grams.” I tell her, forcing a small smile. “I’m a little tired. Haven’t been sleeping too well lately.”
She looks at me like she knows better but doesn’t question me.
“You work too hard. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about hiring a manager.”
Putting down the cookies I’ve been frosting, I give Grams my full attention.
“With you here full time, I want to take more time off. I’m getting too old to keep up with this every day.”
“Grams! Why didn’t you say anything? I can help you more with the baking, with whatever you need.”
“Hush, child. You do too much as it is. You spend more time here than you do at home with that husband of yours. And I know how much you hate dealing with the paperwork and money.”
I won’t tell her that I’d rather be here than at home. This bakery has always been my happy place.
“I don’t mind—”
“Don’t feed me bullshit, little one. I’m old, blind. I see where your passion lies, and I want you to be able to focus on that. You love this bakery—I know you do—and you’ll do anything to see it continue to thrive. I’m not getting any younger and you can’t run this place by yourself, so I want to hire a new baker. Preferably one that has management experience and can take over those duties.”
“Okay, Grams. I’ll put out some feelers to see if we can find someone.”
She winks, coming over to wrap her arms around me. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
Laughing, I playfully snap her with a towel. “Sassy old woman.”
We continue to talk as we work, but she catches me off guard when she asks about David.
“How’s married life treating you?”
For a moment, I forget to breathe.
It would be so easy to admit the truth. Tell her that I’m miserable and married to a monster. Say that he’s cheating on me. Admit that I wish I’d never met David, or at least walked away when given the chance. Be honest and admit that I want to leave him. Speak up about the bruises.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Instead, I lie through my teeth.
“Things are good. We’ve both been super busy with work, so we haven’t spent much time together lately.”
“No good. You should still be in the honeymoon phase. I remember when me and your grandfather were still newlyweds. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other…”
A faint smile creeps across my face as the expression on hers goes dreamy. I listen as she reminisces about the good times with my grandpa. He’s been gone for years now, but she still loves him as much as she did when they married.
I want that kind of love.
I had that kind of love.
Stupidly, I threw it all away and put a nightmare in its place.