Chapter 10
Serenity
THE MINUTE brADLEY AND I pulled away from Zagan’s house, his carefully constructed smile dropped, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Like an animal that sensed a storm closing in, I sensed the ensuing eruption of Bradley’s fury.
“Delete and block Dante’s number,” Bradley suddenly demanded.
I stared at him, my jaw dropping slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? He—”
“Serenity!” Bradley screamed, his face turning red. His wild blue eyes darted between me and the road. “Are you fucking deaf? I said block his goddamn number!”
My lip trembled, but it wasn’t with the threat of tears. Barely concealed frustration bubbled up inside of me. “Why?”
“Because he’s not a good guy. He’s just using you, Serenity.”
I crossed my arms. “How? We’re barely even friends. I’m just now getting to know him.”
“Great!” he yelled. “You’re not close yet, so it should be no problem to cut off communication.”
I clenched my fists and tapped my toes restlessly against the truck floor bed.
My thoughts drifted to Dante and our interactions so far.
His charm and not-too-serious grins were refreshing.
I liked talking to him. I liked having someone who was into the same books as me and who liked getting coffee and walking around the library.
I liked the idea of having my very own friend who understood the parts I chose to show the world.
“No,” I replied softly.
Bradley whipped around to look at me with crazed eyes. “Excuse me?”
“No,” I repeated, putting more power into the word. “I don’t want to stop talking to him. I want to be friends.”
He went eerily silent, and his wide eyes stayed locked on the road ahead. I held my breath and waited for the boom of his thunder. I waited for the battering rain of his argument and acrimony. I waited for the lightning to strike.
But it was silent.
Still.
The lack of response was almost more unnerving, because after the calm usually came an even greater storm.
The thought had me swallowing hard and leaning away from him in my seat. I picked at my thumb and tried to count each inhale and exhale coming from my quickening breath, but the chaotic emotions of anger, confusion, and desperation kept me from thinking clearly.
When we returned to the office, he still made no response. He left with a slam of his truck door, and I returned to my small room in the building. When work ended, there was still no sign or word from him, yet the anxiety of an impending tempest circled me as I drove home with knots in my stomach.
Bradley wasn’t used to me expressing my thoughts, and I, myself, was still getting familiar with my own voice. It had stayed locked away for so many years of our relationship that it shook the foundation we stood on when I argued or had an opinion that differed from his.
I tried talking myself down from my rampant thoughts and anxious worries as I unlocked my apartment and went inside.
No sooner had I deposited my bag and keys on the island than a hard knock sounded on my door.
I peered through the peephole, and my stomach soured when I saw Bradley on the other side.
His nostrils flared, and his shoulders rose and fell hard from the quickness of his breathing.
The hurricane had finally arrived.
The minute I unlocked the door, Bradley shoved it open, nearly knocking me down in the process. I gasped and stumbled backward as he slammed the door closed behind him and continued his furious forward pursuit.
“Are you fucking him?” Bradley demanded.
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind as I was forced to continue backing away. “What?”
“If there wasn’t anything going on between the two of you, you wouldn’t have a problem not talking to him,” he barreled on. His breath came out hard and fast as he backed me right into the corner where my kitchen island connected to the wall.
I braced myself against the wall and held a shaking hand out to try to deter his relentless path forward. “Would you please calm down? I haven’t done anything! He and I are—”
“You’re not friends!” Bradley yelled, getting right in my face. He put a hand on the counter and a fist right by my head to lean in and snarl, “You are mine!”
With him screaming in my face, I caught the unmistakable scent of alcohol on his breath. My eyes widened. “H-Have you been drinking? At work? While driving?”
His hand snapped forward to squeeze my cheeks tightly, and he shook me in his grip. “Don’t change the damn subject, you fucking whore! How many times have you cheated, hmm? You take after daddy?”
Tears rimmed my eyes. His goal to hurt me with that comment worked.
He knew my dad’s infidelity was a sensitive subject.
The old wound across my broken family had messed me up.
He knew the invisible blow he was dealing when he hissed that at me.
His mark struck true, knocking the air out of me as old memories resurfaced.
My dad choosing another woman over his high-school sweet heart and the mother of his daughter, Mom fleeing to Japan and leaving me behind, Dad suddenly rejecting my requests to snuggle on the couch because that was now Scarlett’s spot, my hero turning a blind eye to every painful lashing his new wife dealt to me.
I gripped Bradley’s wrist, trying but failing to make him release his hold on my face. My heart raced, and real terror filled my insides until I thought I might suffocate under the weight of fear.
“Bradley!” I pleaded as his fingers dug in harder. “Please let go! You’re hurting me!”
“Say you’ll stop talking to him,” he snarled, shaking my face.
I whimpered and let go of his wrist to place both hands on his chest. I shoved him hard, and it was enough to finally get a little space between us. I used that small opening to run past him, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
“Answer me!” he demanded. His alcohol saturated breath made my stomach churn with fresh nausea.
“Let go of me,” I begged, staring at this man I no longer recognized.
“Stop talking to him,” Bradley said with a fierce shake of my arm. “You aren’t allowed to talk to another man without my permission. Do you understand?”
My jaw dropped as I tried to grapple with the outrageous things he was saying. “No. I—”
The slap came too quickly for me to even register that his hand moved.
One second I was standing in his iron grip, and the next, I was struck so hard that it knocked me sideways.
I crashed to the floor with a whimper. My ears rang, and a flare of pain bloomed along my mouth and jaw.
I stared at my trembling hands where I braced myself on the ground.
Bradley’s hard pants were the only sound beyond the whooshing in my ears as I sat frozen on the ground, just staring at my pale hands on the floor. The world froze, and time became lost.
A drop of crimson dripped onto the top of my hand.
That small speck of color was like someone hitting the play button, unfreezing me and my shock.
Tears finally rolled down my throbbing cheek, and I slowly looked over my shoulder at Bradley, all while blood gathered between my teeth and over my tongue.
His venomous, drunken gaze held mine, and as the seconds ticked by, his breathing evened out. The intoxication seemed to clear, and he blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing so fast, he looked like a fish out of water.
“S-Serenity,” he choked. His own arms began to shake, and he covered his mouth with both hands. “Holy shit. Serenity, I d-didn’t mean to do that.”
I hiccuped, the shock fading and morphing into horror. My vision blurred with tears, yet I still attempted to crawl away from him. He followed after me, squatting on the ground and grabbing my hand while cupping my injured jaw with the other.
“Serenity,” he whimpered. Tears lined his own eyes, and he rubbed his palm gently across my face. “Serenity. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry. I swear. I didn’t mean to hit you. I-I was waving my hands around, and—and—”
Fear lodged itself in my throat, and the extreme rush prevented me from responding.
All I could do was sob and lean away from his touch.
Regardless of how angry or drunk he’d ever been, he’d never hit me.
He’d never gotten physically violent. The shock over his action was nearly as strong as the panic firing through my system.
“Baby. Dollface. I’m so sorry,” he cried, wiping at the tears on his face and my own. “It was an accident. I swear, I’d never hurt you. You know that, don’t you? Huh?”
I couldn’t stop shaking. I wanted to point out that he just had. I wanted to admit I was scared. I wanted to scream at him to leave. I wanted to tell him he wasn’t the Bradley I used to love.
But the unexpected terror held my voice captive.
Bradley’s blue eyes were red and anguished as he continued crying and searching my own gaze. “Wait here. Don’t move.”
He jumped up and raced into my bathroom.
The sound of the sink filtered out into the main room, and a second later, he returned.
He knelt in front of me and gently wiped the blood off my chin with a cool, wet rag.
He dabbed at my mouth, and a burst of pain followed, making me wince.
He bit his quivering lip at the sight and continued his soft doctoring of my face.
“I’m so sorry,” he cried.
“You hit me,” I whispered. The words only brought fresh tears to my eyes.
Bradley’s face shuttered in pain. He cupped my uninjured jaw and apologized, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Please, believe me. I didn’t mean to, baby. It won’t happen again. I swear. It was an accident. You know it was. We’ve been together for so long. Have I ever hurt you before?”
He hadn’t. This was a very jarring first, and the pain that came from the blow was undeniable. Not the physical pain. That burned and throbbed, but the ache now settling in my heart and mind was even harder to sit with.
The charming boy who teased and flirted was gone.
This was a man who clung to the neck of a bottle too often, and its poison had caused this irreversible damage.
“I can’t—”
“Please don’t say it,” Bradley sobbed. He hung his head, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Please don’t say you can’t be with me now.
I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll never get angry like that again.
I’ll never tell you who you can be friends with.
Please. Dollface. I love you so damn much. Please give me a chance to fix this.”
I stared at his blubbering face. In our eight years together, I’d never seen Bradley cry. Not when he broke an arm in a football game. Not when his family cat died.
But he sobbed now.
My heart hung suspended in this terrible tug-of-war. Half of me wanted to run away from him, but the other still clung desperately to the Bradley he’d always been, the one I gave all of my firsts to, the one I gave my future to.
Could I do it? Could I stay after what he’d done? I knew this was out of the norm for him.
With that in mind, I croaked, “Stop drinking.”
He nodded hard, hope shining in his glistening eyes. “I’ll never touch another drop. Never.”
I held his stare and let his promise seep into me.
I hoped it would heal the wound he’d made.
I hoped it would take away some of the hurt still strangling me.
Instead, the numbness that resided within its buried cracks rose up to take it all away.
The darkness bled out inside of me like a drop of blood slowly staining water with its presence.
Bradley carefully pulled me into his lap and held me close, whispering about how sorry he was and how much he loved me. My arms remained limp at my sides, and I stared across the room at nothing, welcoming the numbness like an old friend.
Bradley leaned back and offered me a tentative smile. “I’m gonna get you dinner from your favorite Chinese restaurant. Okay? Whatever you want. You can even have the whole menu if that’s what you want! We can watch a movie, too. How about one of those Japanese movies you like?”
“It’s Korean,” I corrected flatly. I couldn’t get my voice or face to convey anything. The emptiness had taken root and now commanded me.
“Yes, yes. Korean,” Bradley chirped. “Come on. You shower and get changed. We’ll stay in and do whatever you want. Okay?”
I couldn’t respond. Unfettered, Bradley guided me to stand and corralled me to the bathroom. My mind, my face, everything was blank as I stepped into the shower and stared up at the water pouring from the showerhead.
My insides had gone cold. The black crevices of pain opened wider to try to suck me in.
My lifeless eyes trailed down to where my razor rested on the shower ledge.
The silver metal glinted, and it whispered promises of relief from what I was feeling.
It promised an escape from all the pain I kept tucked away.
Just a little cut. Just a little more pain to never feel it again.
I lifted my hand slowly.
“Dollface,” Bradley called from the other side of the shower curtain.
I froze before dropping my hand back to my side. I stared at my feet. “Yes?”
“The food will be here in thirty minutes. Do you want anything? Want me to do anything around the apartment or get you anything else?”
I swallowed the acid rising up my throat and tilted my head back. I closed my eyes to let the water pour over my head. “No.”
I couldn’t remember the last time Bradley had been overly affectionate with me.
Yet now, he waited on me, hand and foot.
He made my plate of food and rubbed my leg softly as we ate on my couch and watched one of my Korean dramas.
He cleaned my kitchen and told me to just relax, something he didn’t even do at his own house.
He held me against his chest and wrapped me in his arms, not arguing once about watching more of my show.
With each action, some of the pain inside of me ebbed.
With each soft brush of his lips against my temple or idle drag of his fingertips over my arm, the darkness receded a fraction.
I wasn’t sure if it was my mind’s way of trying to preserve the reality that had existed before this evening or if it was a desperate attempt to pretend that everything was fine.
But eventually, the wariness became forgotten, and I allowed myself to lean into his familiar warmth and love.
I let go of what had transpired and breathed him in.
This was my Bradley. This was what I was holding onto. This was why I stayed every time warning signs flared to life.
Besides, it was like he said—it was just an accident. He’d never hurt me like that again.