Page 3 of Saving Ren
That time has passed.
Deep breaths.
Relax.
Don’t let him eventhinkyou might be awake.
I keep my breathing slow and steady, not altering its pattern as he slides into bed beside me.
His hand lands heavily on my waist, and he gives it a squeeze. It takes everything in me not to freeze or attempt to back away from his touch.
I used to crave his touch, used to long for it. It’s a touch that once upon a time, I couldn’t live without. Never imagined I’d have to, let alone want to, but all I can think right now is how dare he. After what he did to me just days ago, without even attempting to make any kind of apology, how dare he come home here and instigate any form of intimacy.
After a minute or two, I make out to twitch, first my leg, then my arm, the way you sometimes do when you’re dreaming or just about to fall asleep, this seems to do the trick. I hear him sigh and turn his back to me.
On the outside, my breaths remain steady. Inside, the sigh I let out is even more significant than his.
When my husband begins to snore, I allow my silent tears to once again fall. I allow the sense of failure to once again wash over me.
Never did I think my life would end up this way.
Never did I think our relationship would take the path it has.
Yeah, it’s always been fiery, right from the beginning it’s been like that. We’re two very passionate people. We love hard and fight dirty. I’m a redhead and have the temper to match. My husband used to duck and then laugh when I threw something at him during the heat of an argument. Then he’d walk away until we’d both calmed down.
Our arguments never lasted long because we’ve never been able to keep our hands off each other. Our make-up sex was as passionate as our arguments and always meant that we’d usually kiss and make up before morning when we did fight. We’d argue, we’d fight, we’d fuck like a pair of crazy people, I’d cry, we’d both say sorry, and then we’d talk things through. It’s not a pattern that’d work for everyone, a lot of couples would probably consider it unhealthy, but it worked for us.
Until it didn’t.
Until it changed.
The arguments became more frequent.
The words we spat more vicious.
The apologies went unspoken.
The make-up sex replaced by violence.
For almost a year,Jay has been angry almost all of the time. His anger always directed at me, I’m left never knowing which version of my husband will be walking through the door in the evening. Each of our confrontations becoming more physical. But, instead of ending it with a passionate fucking on the kitchen table as we grind out our apologies, there are fists in my face, bruises around my throat, clumps of hair ripped from my head, but almost worse than all of that, worse than what happened the other night, are the endless days of silence between us.
I live with a permanent knot in my stomach, lump in my throat, and a sense of dread every time my husband walks through the door.
I’m permanently walking on eggshells around him. Too scared to talk in case I say something that pisses him off, and it escalates into another act of violence towards me.
I can’t sleep, I’ve no interest in food, and my nerves are shattered. I’m lost and lonely. I thought he was my best friend, but apparently, I was wrong on that score. Who treats their best friend the way he’s been treating me?
The worst part of all is the not knowing why. I have no idea what’s changed, why this shift in his personality. If he’s fallen out of love with me, why not just ask for a divorce, move on?
My boys have grown up and left home, so we don’t need to stay together for them. Our life together has been good, almost perfect. We’ve always had great friends and a great social life. Jay’s business has been successful to the point I only work when I want to. I’ll take on a client if they seek me out, but other than that, I really have become a lady who lunches.
We’ve done the hard yards. Worked our arses off, raised a family, and now’s the time we should be kicking back and reaping the rewards of all we’ve put into building this life.
Except right now, all I feel is confused, heartbroken, and shattered. My whole world has fallen down around me, and I’m clueless as to why it’s happened.
Never didI think I’d become a victim of domestic violence. Never did I think I’d put up with that kind of shit from my husband. But for almost a year, I’ve allowed Jay’s actions towards me to escalate, I should’ve left at the first hair pull, the first squeeze of my throat, my jaw, the first grab of my wrist that left bruises, but I didn’t. In the beginning, I tried to talk, to reason with him. I even attempted to fight back, but I quickly learned that would earn me a harder grab, a tighter squeeze, a more vicious pull of my hair, and now it’s come to this, an all-out assault that left me bruised, bleeding, and curled in the foetal position on my kitchen floor.
I’ve felt crippling shame for putting up with his behaviour but now that I’vemadethe decision to leave, I have a little more clarity. I’m still ashamed, I’m not sure that will ever leave me, not until I can come up with reasons as towhyI stayed and allowed it to carry on for so long, but I am now ready to make changes and get the fuck out of Dodge.
