Page 54 of Saving Ren
Lifting my gaze, I look to the door, seeking out Gabe for reassurance. Instead, all I get is my own reflection bouncing back at me. It’s an image I barely recognise. A woman with a messy bun, wearing oversized sweatpants and a hoodie, sits curled in a chair. I keep forgetting that one side of my face is still swollen and bruised, my eye barely open. Raising my hand, I brush the tips of my fingers over my face and lips, reminding myself exactly why I’m in this state and needing to make this call.
As much as it kills me to do it, my boys deserve honesty. They’re both grown men, but as their mum, the need to protect them will forever be present in me.
Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I let it out slowly and organise the words in my head before speaking them out loud.
“I had to get out, Ryde. Things have been bad for months, but this past week. . .” I take in a mouthful of air, hoping I can gulp it down with my threatening tears.
“I ended up in the hospital Friday night. . .”
“What? Why? The fuck, Mum?”
“He just lost it. It’s not the first time, you know what he’s like, but every week lately, it’s just getting worse and worse.”
“He hit you? He’s been hitting you?”
“I thought things would get better, I thought I could handle him.”
“Handle him? Mum, he’s your husband. You shouldn’t have to handle him. Far out. He fucking lied to me. He told me you stormed off after he got home late. He’s been a nightmare at work, losing his temper over shit all the time, but I thought that was just at work.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I allow the silence to continue, to give my son the time he needs to process what I’ve just told him.
“Where are you now? Are you somewhere safe?” he asks quietly. While I consider my answer, he continues.
“Are you okay, Mum? I can’t believe you didn’t say anything, that you didn’t tell us what was going on.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell anyone,” I respond.
“I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
“No, you’re not. I got away, Ryde, I’m okay. Honestly, I’m fine. You can be angry with him, but you have to work with him. Don’t let what goes on between me and him, mess things up for you at work. I don’t want that. This isn’t just about me, it’s about you and your brother and the business. . .”
“Mum, he’s been putting his hands on you. You really think I want to keep working for him?”
My lips rattle together as I let out a long breath, and I instantly wince at the pain that action causes. I’m pissed off with myself for forgetting about the split in my bottom lip while feeling sick with guilt at what this is going to mean for my kids. This is not how I ever imagined my life would go. I’m sitting on an almost stranger’s balcony, wearing an almost stranger’s clothes, hiding from my husband as I tell my kid I’ve left his dad.
“What about your job?”
“He should be more worried abouthisjob. He rarely turns up these days, Mum. It’s not an issue, I’ve got everything under control at the office, and I’ve promoted Spencer. We’ve taken on two new site managers and Spencer is now project managing all our jobs while I run the office.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“Because I assumed you knew. I thought he was just slowing down, spending more time at home with you. That’s why I couldn’t work out why he’s been so pissed off on the rare occasions he does show up. If anything, I expected him to be more chill.”
“He’s not been spending his time with me, I assumed he was at work, and when he has been home, he barely says a word. He didn’t even tell me he’d moved the business account to a different bank.”
“Did he tell you I’ve bought the townhouse?”
“What? No, he hasn’t mentioned it. That was in both our names. How was he able to do that?”
Ryder lives in an investment property I jointly own with Jay. He pays minimal rent, but it covers the small mortgage we have on it and gives him somewhere to live.
“I’m not sure. There’s been a few things that have gone on that have had me confused lately. I offered to buy the townhouse because Dad said you guys were struggling. The business hasn’t been doing great, but since I put Spencer in charge, things have picked up.”
“I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this. I had no idea. What did he charge you to buy the house? Was there any profit made?”
“Mum, you purchased that place off-plan and only paid a couple of hundred thousand for it. It was mostly paid for. I paid five-hundred thousand for it and all of the profit Dad put back into the business to make up for what he’s been drawing out. Before he even knew it was in the account, I paid all the trades we owed money to, as well as all the suppliers. What was left, I’ve moved to an account he doesn’t have access to.”
My head is spinning from all of this information. I feel like I don’t know my husband or the life he’s been living, at all.
