Page 8 of From the Ashes
What did I just do?
I didn’t expect to ask Carter on a date, but something about him made me feel at ease. Even if he claims he wants to help me, I have lived enough years on this earth to know that no man ever helps a woman without an agenda. I mean, it can happen, but it’s rare.
I have been single for a year since I abruptly left Ben one night and drove to Knoxville, never looking back. Dating is thelast thing on my mind, especially with an invasive ex trying to sneak his way back into my life. I don’t care about one-night stands or awkward dates with someone from work, which is why I refuse each time somebody asks me out. Despite leaving Ben, I know I’m still not fully free from him.
Shame has spread its wings into my soul, and I carry it wherever I go. Yet, I still can’t understand why he started hitting me. The first years were fine with occasional arguments, but we were always able to figure things out and move on. But after the birth of Noah, he switched a button on his heart, and that’s when bruises appeared. But Noah was so small, and my salary was still too low to provide for myself, so I figured it was just a phase. That we would soon be okay.
So I stayed.
And maybe that’s why the beatings got worse and worse over time. Because he knew, despite it all, I was stuck with him to take care of us. He knew I didn’t have the guts to leave him when I could barely keep up with all the chores and tasks I had to do. Where would I find the strength to start a new life when I barely had any to finish my never-ending to-do lists? It started once every now and then when I was too tired to do the dishes after a twenty-four-hour shift at the hospital, and I couldn’t even get to the stairs without falling asleep. I was trying my best to be a good wife, good mom, and good friend. Slept deprived, working so much that our house was a mess even when I was trying so hard to tidy it every day. My dream of a happy life was floating further away as each beating left me bleeding on the floor of the kitchen once Noah was asleep.
I took it all: his anger, his frustration of not being the best in his firm and me not being as skinny as his boss's wife. I took it all until I couldn’t.
Until one night, Noah woke up, alarmed by the noise in the kitchen downstairs where his father was repeatedly kicking mein the stomach with his sleek black derby shoes, his suit still on. Blood was dripping out of my mouth as I was trying to protect my belly, hoping he wouldn’t hurt me enough to have to go to the hospital. My colleagues would have seen it, and I didn’t want them to know. Some knew and had offered help, but I couldn’t admit it back then. So I kept concealing my bruises under my sleeves, and that was it. I was so used to it back then. Working, taking care of Noah, getting beaten up, then repeating it all over again the next day. I couldn’t see a way out.
But that night, when I saw my son’s adorable face looking over us, midway down the stairs, his large teddy bear snuggled under his arms as his wide eyes locked with mine, I knew I had reached rock bottom. And that night, after years of getting hit every day, thinking my son would never know, thinking foolishly that I could protect him from witnessing this, I stared at him and knew with certainty that it would be the last time this man would ever touch me again.
“Buddy, you’re up,” Ben said, his voice flinching, embarrassed, ashamed, as he was helping me get up like a true loving husband who wasn’t at all kicking his wife in the stomach.
“Daddy?” His eyes went back and forth between us.
“Just playing. Mommy is okay. Don’t worry, buddy.” But even in the dark of the dimly lit kitchen, I could see the worry in my son’s gaze. A smart kid, my Noah. Even at three, he was smart enough not to buy it.
“Mommy?” Stepping toward him, swallowing a wince of pain, I smiled at him.
“Mommy’s okay. Let’s go back to your room. It’s late and you’ve got Allie’s birthday tomorrow, you’ll need all the energy you can have. I heard her parents got clowns and a bouncy castle!” I tried to sound excited and unbothered, refocusing himon his play date tomorrow, trying as hard as I could to protect him from the horror happening under our roof.
“Castle?!” He jumped with a smile so wide, I could see all his teeth. Getting him up in his room without a look back at Ben, I cuddled Noah and tucked him in.
“Sleep tight, love. We’ve got a big day tomorrow,” I murmured, kissing his forehead, watching his eyelids already starting to shut. I couldn’t tell him then, but as he fell asleep, I turned to his dresser and started to pack a bag with his favorite clothes and toys. We couldn’t take much, but I still wanted him to have his favorite things. Little did he know that it would be the last time he would ever sleep in this bed.
Because the day after, I picked him up after the birthday party and drove two hours to my sister’s in Knoxville. We stayed at her house for the first months while I found a new job, filed for divorce, and then moved a block away from them, in a little house, not as big as the one we used to have, but it was ours and I could decorate it the way I wanted. It had a garden, a modern kitchen with wood counters and cute shelves. The two rooms upstairs were next to each other, and that was exactly what I wanted. Just a place for Noah and me to be safe. For him to grow up without slamming doors and people fighting all the time.
I sit on one of the kitchen stools and sigh. I’ve come a long way. I take the piece of paper from my front pocket and read the number over and over again.
Carter.
I like his name. It makes me think of spreading your fingers outside a car window while driving. He didn’t smile once. I know it’s strange to notice that kind of thing, but as a nurse, I always make sure to smile at my patients.
He seems like the opposite of Ben, and even if I know I will have to stop comparing my past to my present one day, I can’thelp it.You’re not ready.Ben is right, you can come back to him and help him become a better man. I take a deep breath.
It’sjusta date.
Yet somehow, it feels like something incredibly more important.
4
CARTER
I had waitedseven days of agony for my date with Lana.Lana.Her name rolled on my lips like snow melting in the sun. I had decided last week that I was done stalking her. It was about time I tried to act normal, ‘cause it was not every day that I had a shot at talking to a woman of this caliber. Lucky for me, I had spent the week working with Ash. Must have been colder than usual ‘cause my boss's wife, Mia, kept asking me if I was okay. Perhaps that’s because I had shoved a guy on the floor when I thought he was jumping onto her when we were walking back to her workplace two days ago.
Anyway, today was the day, and I had the perfect gift. Shadow said it wasn’t necessary, and Ares tried to stop me, narrowing his eyes like I was fucking things up all over again. But I knew it was good.
Thought first about draining a liter of my own blood and giving it to her in a milk bottle, but then I reminded myself about what Dr. Parks had told me repeatedly: always make sure the person you give the gifts to will like it. And to be honest, I couldn’t think of anyone wanting such a gift. So I chose something different, something useful, where she would think of me while using it.
Mounting my black Harley, I realized I had forgotten about clothes and stuff like this. I had a black long-sleeve shirt and black jeans on. I hadn’t shaved for two days, but I knew some girls at the club liked the stubble, so maybe she would too.
The drive to Laurrie’s is fast. A small diner downtown that looks like it’s still stuck in the sixties with milkshakes and black-and-white floors. I don’t go there often, but once in a while, when I want something sweet, I know I’ll find it here. Customers are local folks minding their business and not caring about a large, tall man like me sitting there. I arrive early, a few minutes before ten. I don’t want her to wait for me; that would be a shitty move. So I park in front of the brick storefront diner and wait, hands behind my back, my thoughts bouncing in my mind.
