CHAPTER 6
Gabrielle
At the hospital, the doctor confirms what I feared – I am having a miscarriage. I broke down in tears again because there’s nothing else to do but cry and feel sorry for myself.
Tyson is there, standing by the door like he doesn’t belong in the room while the doctors give me this news. I want to ask him to leave, but I know he won’t listen. He wants to be here with me. In his mind, taking care of Dilvan’s house means watching after me, too.
The D&C procedure was quick. Since I had one not too long ago, I already knew what to expect. Now, I’m in recovery, watching The King of Queens and eating ice chips.
“How do you feel?” Tyson asks, stepping into the room.
“I’m okay,” I say it like I’m chipper, as if all is right with the world. I’m good at pretending – so good that other people actually believe it.
Tyson slides his hands into the pockets of his black slacks and looks up at the TV for a moment. “You know what I hate about shows like this?”
“What?”
“They portray men as idiots.”
I chuckle.
“Have you ever noticed that?” he asks.
“I don’t watch much TV.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Then what on earth do you do all day, up in your room?”
I noticed he put the emphasis on your, letting me know that he knows Dilvan and I don’t share a room.
We’re like the old people back in the day who couldn’t stand their spouses, yet didn’t want to break up publicly, so they broke up privately – lived in the same house and couldn’t stand to hear the other one breathe.
I answer, “I sleep. Write. I read. I love to read.”
“I see,” he says, his eyes looking up at the monitor that I’m attached to, then he looks at me again and says, “I want to ask you something, Gabrielle.”
“Okay.”
“Why were you on the bathroom floor naked this morning?”
I shrug. “I just slipped and fell–must’ve hit my head and blacked out or something.”
“That, or maybe he pushed you.”
“Who?”
“You know who. Did Dilvan do this to you?”
For some reason, I find myself putting up walls and going into defense mode.
What right does he have to ask me about my marriage, and what’s going on in a house that he doesn’t even live in?
He’s only a guest, a nosy one at that, and I owe him no explanation for anything that goes on in my home.
I don’t trust him. He’s an Alexander, just like Dilvan. The only man I trust is my father.
“No,” I responded. “I told you, I fell.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, that’s what happened so...”
“And what happened at breakfast Tuesday morning?”
“What do you mean?” I ask him while staring at the TV, because I can’t tolerate eye-to-eye contact with a man, thanks to Dilvan.
“Dilvan answers questions for you. He kicks you beneath the table, and you won’t even make eye contact with him, the same way you won’t look at me, like you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then look at me, Gabrielle.”
I don’t want to look at him. In fact, everything inside me is telling me not to look this man in the eyes.
It’s been ingrained in me that I’m not worthy, not important enough to look people in their eyes.
In some cultures, it’s disrespectful to do so.
Back in the day, some women were afraid to look their husbands in the eye.
Maybe it was a self-esteem issue, or it could’ve been a way of showing respect to their men.
However, I live in a modern American society.
Not looking someone in the eyes is a sign of low self-esteem, a sure indicator of a lack of confidence.
Before I was married, I used to look people in the eyes.
Now, I feel like Miss Celie from The Color Purple, afraid of my master, which in turn has made me afraid of other people.
“Gabrielle,” Tyson says. “Look at me.”
I feel my head turning toward the chair he’s standing in front of, but I can’t believe I’m doing this.
When my eyes make contact with his, he smiles.
So do I. Tyson is handsome, a brown-skinned man with adorable, copper eyes, a chiseled face, and a nice low fade haircut.
It amazes me how my eyes greedily roam his face to enjoy every aspect of him, from the thin mustache and beard, down to the bone structure that makes him appear so manly and strong.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.”
“You have some beautiful brown eyes,” he tells me.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling warm all over, and I’m not sure why.
“You really should make eye contact with people more often.”
He takes my hand and says, “Now that I have your undivided attention, I want to tell you a story. It’s the story about a woman who married the man she thought she would love for the rest of her life.
They had a beautiful wedding, and in public, he treated her like a queen, but behind closed doors, she was being tortured, beaten and she was scared to tell anyone for fear her husband would find out. That woman is my sister.”
“Your sister?” I ask. I thought for sure he was talking about me.
“Yes. My sister married a man who was abusive. I suspected something was off, came right out and asked her, but she denied it. It went on for years before she finally told me what was going on.”
“What did you do?”
“First, I beat the crap out of her husband. Then I moved her in with me until she was able to get back on her feet. Last year, she moved out, has her own place in Charlotte now, and is doing just fine. She filed charges against her husband and has a restraining order in place. I say that to say this–if you’re being abused, Gabrielle, you need to tell me. ”
“I’m–”
“Don’t say you’re not being abused, because I know you are. I’ve been through this. I know the signs. And I don’t want you losing another child behind him. He doesn’t deserve you.”
Tears come to my eyes when I ask, “How do you know that?”
“I heard the nurses talking to you.”
My lips tremble. I pull my hand away from his grasp and use the sheets to dab my eyes. “I don’t–I don’t know what to say.”
“Is he hurting you? Let’s start there.”
“Why do you want to know? So, you can go right back and tell Dilvan what I said?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because he’s your family.”
“He’s my cousin, and honestly, I can’t stand him. Never could.”
“Then why are you house-sitting for him?”
He blows an agitated breath and answers, “That was Padma’s idea, or maybe it was God’s plan.”
My eyes grow big. “What do you mean?”
“The main reason Padma wanted me to house-sit was to find out what was going on with you and Dilvan.”
“What made her think something was going on?”
“She told me she saw bruises on your neck one day–said you were trying to cover them with your shirt collar. Is that true?”
“Um...”
“Gabrielle.” He sighs. “What happened to you this morning? You’re lying in a hospital for goodness’ sake. There’s no need for you to keep trying to protect Dilvan. Now, tell me what happened.”
“I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because the money Padma gave me is already spent. My family needed it and I–I can’t pay her back.”
“You really think Padma gives a flip about that money? That’s a drop in the bucket to her. She cares about you, Gabrielle, which is why I’m here.”
“Why’d she send you, though? Dilvan has brothers.”
“Neither Heshan nor Prasad will step foot in his house. Padma has her hand in so many businesses, and between that and her community events, she can’t be here every day either.
So she told me to come since Dilvan was going to be away for a few days.
So, I need you to tell me–what happened last night? ”
“Well, um…”
My hands start shaking just reliving it.
He takes my hand in his again and says, “Take your time.”
“Okay.” I force out a breath and then begin, “I was taking a shower around nine last night. Dilvan walked into the bathroom, slid the shower door open and just stood there, watching me. He likes to intimidate me that way.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“He told me to get out of the shower, so I got out. He had my towel. He wouldn’t give it to me.
He just stared me up and down before he snapped, grabbed me by the neck.
I think I may have asked him why he hated me or something.
I don’t remember. Next thing I know, he pushed me to the floor.
I must’ve blacked out. I didn’t wake up until you came in this morning. ”
“Did you know you were pregnant?”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t know the first time, either.”
“First time?” Tyson frowns again, harder this time. “This isn’t your first miscarriage?”
“No. Second.”
He releases my hand and paces the floor, the area right beside my hospital bed. He says, “This can’t happen again. We have to get you out of that house.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I told you...Padma paid me to—”
“Padma doesn’t care about that money, Gabrielle. I told you that. She cares about you. She loves you like a daughter.”
“I know that.”
“Then you should know that she would go to bat for you. You think she wants you to suffer? You think she wants you to live with an abuser.”
“No, I don’t, but where exactly am I supposed to go?”
“With me. I live a half-hour away from here. Dilvan won’t come to my house looking for you.”
“I–”
“Don’t say you can’t, because it’s not an option, and it’s not up for discussion. You’re coming with me, and that’s final.”
My heart punches me in the chest at the thought that I may be rescued from Dilvan – from a marriage that has left me broken.
Is this really happening? Am I finally free from the torture? The agony? The harassment? Is this my way out?
“Tyson, I–”
“I’m not going to stand by and allow him to mistreat you. As soon as we get out of this hospital, we’re going to his house to get your stuff, and we’re outta there. Understood?”
“Yes. I understand.”
I close my eyes, squeezing tears out of them.
Dilvan didn’t know how to treat me – that much was a given – but the truth of the matter was, I wanted him to love me so much that I tried to convince myself that his mistreatment of me was somehow his way of expressing his love.
And therefore, through all the abuse, the bruises, the name-calling, the assault, the disrespect – I still wanted our marriage to work.
When I married, I never dreamed of getting a divorce.
So what we met via an arranged marriage website, and his mother put us together?
It was still a union, was it not? And while women who weren’t in my position would judge me and say I’m stupid for caring about a man who did nothing but torture me day in and day out, I’m the only one, besides God, who knows my heart.
I stayed as long as I did for what I dreamed we could be, but that wasn’t the reality.
I tried my best to love Dilvan.
Now, I needed to try my best to figure out what life looked like without him.