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The thought of staying in this apartment after what just happened makes me feel sick to my stomach. The officer couldn’t reassure me that Bradley would be kept overnight. She was blunt with me when she said money and names have a lot of power.
“I think that sounds like a good idea,” I agree, heading into my room to pack a bag.
My hands are shaking as I try to pack up a bag, when I finally just give up and sit on the side of the bed, my head in my hands.
“Hey, are you okay?” Knox asks, rushing over to my side.
“No, I’m not. Thank you so much,” I say as he wraps his arms around my shoulders.
“You don’t need to thank me. Come on, let me help you.” He gets up from the bed and I watch him throw things into the bag for me, which only makes me cry harder.
“I’m not going to lie; I don’t know how to handle crying,” Knox says, laughing nervously.
I smile through my tears. “I get it.”
He grabs my hand, leading me towards the front door.
The car ride to his house is quiet. I’m thankful for that, because I know that no matter how hard it is, I’m going to have to open up and tell him about my past. He deserves it. We’ve had some crazy highs and lows in our relationship, but he deserves that from me. I lean my head against the window, and lightening paints the sky, which seems appropriate for the night I’ve had.
I watch lightening light up the sky from my bedroom window. I can feel the anxiety building up in my chest. A quick glance at the clock on my bedside table reminds me that I’m running out of time.
Last night, Bradley Scott put his hands on me for the last time. I’ve done a lot more for my family than most daughters would, and staying in a marriage where I’m a punching bag isn’t going to be one of those things.
I see headlights turning down my street, and my heart rate picks up. I let out a huge sigh of relief when I watch them pass our house.
“Get yourself together, Sophia,” I mumble to myself.
I’ve been planning this for a long time. Every time Bradley has given me money to go shopping, or a gift to make up for the fact that he hit me or called me a name, I’ve put the money in a secret bank account, or returned items and put the money from those in a bank account.
I applied for a job in California, and when they called to tell me I got it, after countless zoom interviews, I knew it was time to go.
I’m not telling anyone I’m leaving. Not even my parents. I tried to tell my mom what was going on and she didn’t want to hear it.
“What happens in your marriage is none of my business, Sophia,” she said, over and over again.
She didn’t want to admit that she and my father were wrong for asking me to marry Bradley, knowing what kind of person he was.
It hurt me to use a chunk of the money I saved and buy myself a car, but it was a necessity. I’ve been parking it in a lot not far from our house, just waiting for this moment.
My phone buzzes from my pocket and I pull it out, feeling sick when I see Bradley’s name accompanied by an incoming text.
Bradley: I’m running behind, but I should be home in about an hour.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. I just bought myself some more time. His latest extracurricular activity has him occupied, and I’ve never been more thankful that my husband is a lousy man.
I throw my backpack over my shoulders, grab the suitcase and my two bags from the bed and head down the stairs.
I found a fantastic lawyer that specializes in helping women get out of unfortunate situations. She’s going to have Bradley served tomorrow, and she assured me that all the addresses on the paperwork would be for her office. She’s the only one that knows where I am going. It gives me so much relief that I’ll be halfway across the country before he’s served.
I leave my phone on the nightstand––I’ve got a new one being shipped to my apartment in California. Without giving anything a second thought, I leave the house that holds so many of my nightmares.
It was a no brainer for me that California would be where I would end up. I have a lot of history there. I know there are people there that will welcome me back with open arms.
I don’t even look back as I walk out of the house, barely making it to the car before the rain starts.
“Sophia, we’re here. Are you okay?” Knox asks, nudging my shoulder.
“What? Yeah. I’m sorry,” I say nervously.
