Page 14 of Angels & Whiskey
I staredat my reflection in the mirror, seeing the bruises that marked both of my biceps. You’d think that after two and a half years of being told what to do, I’d learn when I needed to shut-up.
“Did I ask for your opinion?” he snarled, shaking me as if I were a rag doll.
“I just—”
“You what? Thought you’d know what I liked?” His hands clamped down harder against my skin. I swallowed hard, trying not to show that it hurt.
I stared at him for a minute. I thought I had good taste. I had picked out several outfits for him before. “I just like the blue one. It matches your eyes.”
He let go of my arms. They burned and throbbed where he’d grabbed me as the blood started to flow again.
“I don’t need you to tell me how to dress,” he hissed and walked back to his closet.
I wasn’t going to tell him how to dress. I just wanted him to know I liked the blue tie—my mistake. Before he could see the tears that wanted to spill over my bottom lids, I turned and left the room. If he saw me cry, the wrath would be ten times worse.
We had been married for almost three years. I heard about men that changed as soon as they got married, but I never thought Rich was going to be that way. When we were dating and engaged, he never so much as raised his voice. I should have known he was too good to be true. Now I’m married to a controlling asshole and I can’t leave him because I have no money, let alone the fact that he’d send his thugs after me.
Yep, Rich has thugs on his payroll.
After he’d proposed, he convinced me to quit working.“Princess, I have plenty of money. You don’t need to work anymore. I want you to stay home and get ready to have my babies.”
It took me a few months before I finally caved and quit my job at the bank. Rich was persistent, promising he’d always take care of me, and while he had, he’s also controlled my every move since we’d been married.
We dated for six months, got engaged and married three months later. My parents loved him. My friends loved him. My family loved him—I loved him. Everything was perfect …
Or so I thought.
I never thought I was a weak person, but I was. I didn’t have the courage to leave him. I felt stuck, alone, used—worthless. He’s never hit me, not really, but he’s grabbed me, pushed me … screamed at me. I felt as if I were an adolescent child trying to learn how the world worked, not someone turning thirty.
After he would yell at me and grab me, he’d be the sweetest person … like the man I fell in love with.
“Is this the blue tie you were talking about?” he asked, coming into the kitchen where I stood.
I couldn’t hesitate before answering him because he’d get mad again. I’d done that too many times and I was slowly learning. “Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. Are you going to the coffee shop to meet Brandi?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. I was scared the storm hadn’t fully passed and the slightest raise of my voice might set him off again.
“Good. I’ll see you after work and then we can see about getting you pregnant.” He leaned down and kissed me on the lips before walking toward the bedroom.
I watched as he turned the corner, my heart continuing its heavy beat.
As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, getting ready for my coffee date with Brandi, I realized the bruises on my arms were already starting to show. Rich knew I bruised easily, so he’d never lay a hand on me where someone could see. He was too smart for that. No one knew what went on behind closed doors; he scared me enough not to tell.
Or run.
It was as if Rich planned his attacks—as if he waited for me to make one wrong move so he could show me who was boss. Maybe he saw me as weak. I knew I felt as if I were at times, but things needed to change. I was tired of lying to everyone and pretending he was the perfect man. Things needed to change starting today. I was strong before Rich. I was independent before Rich. And I’d be damned if I were going to let him continue to control my life. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t how a marriage should be. I had too much going for me to let a man run my life.
Sure I’d let him control me for three years, but that was about to change—starting with today.
The weather in early March was still cool enough to wear long sleeves or even a jacket despite living in the desert of Las Vegas. I drove my black Mercedes to Starbucks where Brandi and I had our usual coffee date. After Rich had proposed, he took my old Honda Civic and surprised me with the Mercedes. When he gave me the car, I was ecstatic. I’d never had a nice car before. I should have realized it was part of his master plan to control me.“I need my princess safe. Can’t have her driving around in a car that might break down at any moment,” he’d insisted.
Safe from everyone but him.
I parked my car then walked into the shop. The smell of fresh coffee hit me as soon as I entered. I saw Brandi sitting at one of the tables, and I waved before I stood in line to order my vanilla latte.
After ordering, I walked over to her table. “Hey,” I beamed, excited to see my friend.
