Page 73 of The Sound of Silence

I studied his features, memorizing every line, so I would be able to see how much my truth might forever scar him. I wasn’t sure if I could summon the strength to give it to him. Pulling my hand from his, I stood and began to pace the room again. It was time to choose my path—either hide the scars that made up who I was or own them.

“You’re right, I have to tell you. No… that’s wrong. I don’thaveto tell you anything, but Iwantto trust you with this. I just need you to know it was a complicated situation. I’m not weak. Part of the reason I hesitated to tell you was I didn’t want you to see me as the victim. I’m not the victim, Derek. I got away. Changing my name just allowed me to survive. I’m still me.”

“I know that.”

“I know I can seem closed off, untrusting even, but it’s not what it seems like. That’s just my way of making sure I can keep my independence and never lose myself to a man again.”

He came to me and placed his hands on my hips, effectively stopping me from pacing.

“I know that, too,” he said, reaching up to tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear. When his finger softly stroked the side of my cheek, I leaned into his touch. For some reason, it gave me the courage to continue.

“You see, for years, I had nothing to call my own. Ethan saw to that. Everything my husband ever gave me was meant as a way to control me,” I explained gravely.

Derek stopped stroking my cheek and leaned back to look at me.

“Have I ever done anything that made you feel like I was trying to control you?” he asked, his expression showing genuine concern.

I contemplated his words, then slowly shook my head.

“No, you haven’t. You’ve actually done the complete opposite. You encourage me to just be me.”

Seemingly satisfied I was speaking the truth, he nodded.

“Go on then,” he encouraged patiently.

“Ethan was extremely controlling—that’s putting it mildly—but I was partly to blame because I easily gave in to him right from the beginning. He was mentally and physically abusive, just not at first. It was a gradual thing that became worse over time. About two years into our marriage, I found out he had a mistress. Not realizing what Ethan was truly capable of, I confronted him about the affair. We argued. One thing led to another…” I paused, not wanting to relive the details of the first time Ethan beat me and the subsequent miscarriage. “You want to talk aboutSleeping with the Enemy? Well, I lived it.”

“What exactly did he do?”

I took a shaky breath, trying to gather enough courage to dispel my apprehension.

“Derek, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you know how hard this is for me to talk about.”

“Just take it one step at a time.”

“And say what? That I stuck around for years and let him beat me? Do you want me to tell you about all the bruises and broken bones? How about the pain in my ankle that hurts every day because of a fracture that never healed properly? Or about how…” I stopped and swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to find the courage to continue. “The details about what he did to me that day are irrelevant now, just as the many days like it that followed.”

His face paled, and I could see disbelief begin to set in.

“Christ, what the fuck did he do to you?”

“At some point over the years, I completely lost myself. It got to a point where I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror.” As much as I didn’t want to cry, I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Hastily wiping it away, I was annoyed at showing signs of weakness. Derek wrapped an arm around my shoulder and tried to pull me close. I shook my head and stepped away. I didn’t want to be held at that moment. I found it easier to talk while I paced. Taking my cue for needed space, he stepped back and returned to his seat on the sofa.

“You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to,” he stated. His voice wavered uncharacteristically, almost as if he was afraid to hear the rest.

“No, I have to get this out. For me,” I told him. He nodded once, accepting my need to finish. For some reason, I was awash with humiliation. I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, yet I was unable to meet his eyes while I told the ending of my tale. “It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to force himself on me.”

“Are you saying he raped you? On multiple occasions?” His hand was clenched into a fist on his knee. If he wasn’t sitting down, I was fairly positive he would have punched something.

“I didn’t constitute it as rape at the time. In my mind, he was my husband, and I hadn’t actually said no. Looking back on it now, I didn’t say no because I was too afraid. After a beating, he’d feel bad about what he’d done. He’d say he wanted to make it up to me—to love me. I would cry the entire time, but I never once said no.”

“Jesus Christ,” Derek hissed. He ran his hands through his hair in a display of obvious frustration.

“There’s more.”

I paused, swallowed, and took a shaky breath.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

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