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He was manic, his hair standing up on end, his eyes red rimmed.
“You’ve been on drugs, haven’t you?” I said, cautiously.
“What’s it to you? And I fucked Petra in the toilets.”
His spiteful words had the desired effect. They hurt more than the belt.
He grabbed me, lifting me from the floor and tearing my dress to shreds. “Now I want to fuck you.” He dragged me to the bedroom.
I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t strong enough to push him away. He placed a pillow over my head so asnot to see your ugly faceand he did what he had to do. Thankfully, and as usual, he didn’t last longer than five minutes. But it was five minutes of hell. I was sore, I was bruised, bloodied, and broken.
When he slid to one side and fell instantly asleep, I curled into a ball and sobbed. I didn’t care if he heard or not, but judging by his snores, he was dead to the world.
Dead to the world. Oh, I so wished he was.
I crawled into the bathroom and stood under the shower. I had makeup streaming down my face, making me look like a hideous clown. I had a swollen cheek and a split lip. When I turned in the bathroom mirror, I had five whip marks across my back. I cried again.
I placed my hands over my stomach. “I’m pregnant,” I whispered to no one in particular.
There was a child in my body. Part of me, part of him. I knew I could never bring a child into our relationship. I couldn’t trust Andrew not to beat me again, hurt the baby. I had to get out. I didn’t care if I ended up on the streets. I had to protect my child.
I had to be free.
* * *
Leaving wasn’t goingto be easy. I had no money of my own, just a meagre wage. I could speak to Bill and Tania, but pride, initially, stopped me. I could have called Daniel. I still had his card in my clutch bag.
I would have to plan.
I left the bathroom and, in a robe, walked into the kitchen. I needed a drink and some pain relief. Could I take pills? I wasn’t sure.
Before I could decide, Andrew walked into the kitchen.
“You made me do it, Amber. You promised you wouldn’t anger me so much,” he said.
“I didn’t... Yes, I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me?”
“Come here,” he said, and I stepped into his embrace. My stomach roiled with disgust. “You make me so angry sometimes, I lose my mind.”
“I know. It’s done now. How about a cup of tea?” I asked, anything to get out of his arms.
He nodded and, as if nothing had happened, I made us both a cup of tea. He sat at the table, and I sat opposite him.
“Are you having a relationship with Petra?” I asked.
His eyes clouded over, thunderous.
“Wait, hear me out. I think Petra is good for you. Perhaps she can offer you more, sexually, than I can. So, it’s okay,” I said, swallowing bile without him seeing.
He frowned at me.
“I fuck her. That isn’t a relationship,” he said, as if that explanation was okay.
I nodded. “I’m saying, and not that you need my permission, it’s okay. I’m not upset by that.”
He frowned some more. I needed to be very careful with my words. “Of course, it hurts, but I love you enough to share you.”
The fact he thought I was hurting was enough to bring a small sadistic smile to his lips.
