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I move through the motions of the day on autopilot, my eyes wandering toward the window every few minutes. I’m terrified I’ll turn and find those dark eyes staring back at me. Every time the door opens, my heart leaps into my throat. The uneasy feeling sticks with me throughout the day.
Customers must think I’m a crazy lady with how jumpy I am today. I’m distracted, can barely answer questions correctly, and I caught myself zoning out earlier during discussions of the upcoming show with the owner.
Thankfully, I make it to the end of the workday with no further incidents or sightings.
I decide I'm not going home tonight. I need space to think and work out how to handle all that’s gone down in the past forty-eight hours. I’m overwhelmed and scared, but mostly pissed. The one person I should be able to trust completely in this world has broken that trust. My heart is shattering, my nerves are frayed, and all I want to do is lose myself in my current painting.
I turn the open sign to closed and lock the door. I go back to my space and strip out of my skirt and blazer as fast as I can before getting my painting clothes on. My hands are so shaky, I’m not sure I can achieve the even brush strokes I need to finish this one, but I just don’t care at this point.
Painting is the only thing that brings me peace lately. It used to be Christopher, too, but if I am being honest, I haven’t felt that way since we got engaged.
Everything started to change as soon as he put this three-carat princess cut diamond on my finger, and I said yes. It was like a mask falling, slowly at first. It was little things.
He used to come home at a decent hour so we could eat dinner together and curl up on the couch to watch a T.V. show. We used to go out to dinner and try out the new restaurants in town. I love experiencing new things, and Christopher always seemed to enjoy flaunting that he could get into all the hot new spots around town. We haven’t gone out in months.
Everything feels robotic now. Like we’re just going through the motions of life. I’d thought these things were normal in some ways. We’re both busy with work and are having a hard time finding the time to connect.
After all, doesn’t every couple go through that?
Pushing those thoughts away, I straighten and admire my work, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. This is my passion, a passion I must keep secret. I frown at that thought.
I sign Andi Sparks—my pseudonym—on the bottom corner of my beautiful finished piece. My work hangs all over our home, and Christopher is none the wiser. Not that he paid any of it much attention.
I look up at the clock on the wall and realize how late it is. It’s time to be done, so I lay down on the sofa in my office and try to close my eyes. Every time I do, I see dark eyes staring back at me with dangerous intent in his gaze.
Chapter 5
Ibarelysleptagainlast night. Between sleeping on the sofa and not being able to turn my thoughts off, I’m surprised I was able to sleep at all.
With only an hour before the studio opens, I get up, fold the blanket I used last night, and grab the extra clothes I keep here for emergencies. I want to grab some coffee at this cute little coffee shop that I go to regularly. It’s just around the corner. I need some caffeine ASAP.
I wash my face the best I can in the bathroom sink. Then I throw on some foundation and spend a little more time on my eyes today. I have dark circles under my eyes that take some effort to cover.
Looking in the mirror, I notice my eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, and my face lacks its usual natural glow. I pinch my cheeks and drop in some eye drops. That will have to do.
Maybe the coffee will help.
I go back to my desk to grab my phone. I turned it off last night because I had no interest in dealing with Christopher after I sent a text saying I was safe but needed space. I needed time to think and process, but I’m still unsure about how to proceed. I need to figure out how to get answers because I know I won’t be able to move past this if I don’t. My trust in Christopher is on shaky ground right now.
How can I marry a man I don’t trust?
How am I supposed to feel safe?
As soon as my phone powers on, I’m hit with notification after notification. There are nineteen missed calls and several voicemails. Most of the missed calls are from Christopher, but a few are from my sister and there is even one from my dad. I go to listen to the first voicemail.
“Hey, I just got home. I was hoping you’d changed your mind and came home. It’s late. I’ll send the driver if you want to come home. It’s safe. We’re safe.” That came in at almost midnight. Why is he insisting we’re safe when we clearly aren’t?
I listen to the next one. “Andrea, where are you? I know last night didn’t go great, but we have stuff to talk about. Just call me back.”
There are more missed calls and then one final voicemail.
“Andrea, where the fuck are you? This is bullshit. Call me back! Now! You don’t get to just run off; you better fucking get home!”
My stomach drops at his tone. I’ve never stayed out and not come home, so I know that must have made him worry, but I told him I needed space. I need to sit down and talk with him, but not right now.
I send him a text, “I’m fine. We’ll talk tonight.”
I call my sister, Adalyn, back as I’m walking to the coffee shop. I need to hear her voice, and I’m hoping she’ll meet me for lunch. I need to talk to someone. She and I used to be close, but since Christopher and I started dating, I’ve had less and less time with family. It’s mostly my fault. I should have made it a bigger priority. I have a lot of regrets, and that cuts me to my core. I need to do better.
