Hindsight (11 page)

“Please, I need you to just leave. Now, please!”

I shook my head sadly. “I can’t.”

He stood up and I couldn’t help but follow him. I may have looked like a stray puppy, following the man on the street, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t ready to let it go. To let Sean go. I couldn’t find it in me to let him walk away.

He stopped and turned to me, facing me with such pain in his eyes. “I love you, Char. Forever and always. I love you.” He hugged me tightly and I didn’t ever want him to let go. I wanted him to hold onto me forever. Forever and always, just as he said.

His arms fell abruptly, ending the hug, leaving me so broken and empty, as he turned around to walk out of the hotel without a backward glance. Just like that, he was gone. I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch him leave. I watched him leave and walk out of my life. I felt my heart stop beating as I hoped that he wasn’t gone forever. I had to believe we would be together again. That I would be able to free myself from my abusive and controlling husband, and find my way back to the love of my life again. It was the only hope I had left in me.

I had tears streaming down my face and didn’t think I would ever get over this ache in my heart, mind, body, and soul. It was everywhere. It consumed me and suffocated me all at once.

I heard the countdown start from behind me. Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Happy fucking New Year, to me!

I was officially alone.

December 25
th
, 2014

His lips halted their movements on my neck and I felt his deep sigh against my skin. “Don’t, baby. Don’t freeze up on me. It’s Christmas… you know how much I love Christmas.”

And that was the fucking truth. I had one day each year where I knew I wouldn’t be struck. I wouldn’t be punished for anything, and everything would be okay. For just one day. Christmas. I knew it had something to do with his past, with his childhood, but I never knew exactly what it was. He had given me little glimpses in the past, but nothing big enough to see the full picture. It was always something small like drinking eggnog while opening presents. Playing instrumental Christmas carols in the background. And a pineapple bake dish during lunch. I hated it, but he had insisted I make it every year, so I carefully followed his mom’s recipe and had perfected it over the years. I could only assume it had been because his mom was gone and he wanted to keep a part of her with him over the holidays. I never objected, knowing what it was like to not have your mother around for you anymore.

I tried hard to soften my frigid body enough to calm him, wanting this day to be as perfect as he did. His voice had sounded so sincere as he pleaded for me to relax. He gave me one day a year to be safe… I could give him one day of love. Even if it was forced.

His lips went back to my neck and began to trail warmth along my collarbone and down toward my chest. I knew what he was doing, and I was appreciative that it wasn’t forced, but it didn’t keep the fear of what would happen next from surfacing.

I gently placed my hands on the sides of his head and held him still. His eyes met mine, giving me a questioning stare. His almost black eyes, void of evil for the moment, studied my face as I tried to find the words, hoping this wouldn’t be the first Christmas he decided to be violent with me.

“I’m on my period, Tony.” It was the truth.

Tony hated to have sex while I was on my period. But that never stopped him from getting something from me. That was what I was worried about. I didn’t want that. It would have ruined my entire day. It would have blanketed my one good day with a sense of grief. I just wanted my one good day. I deserved that much!

He looked up at me and gave me a small smile that was reminiscent of the old Tony… the one when he was courting me before we married. It calmed me slightly, but there was still the reminder in the back of my head that told me his smiles meant nothing.

“That’s okay. I’m too excited to give you your gifts anyway. Come on; let’s get ready and head downstairs. My taste buds are dying for some eggnog.” He kissed me once more before jumping up from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

This was when things became cloudy in my brain. I knew personally what a monster he was. I knew firsthand the things his fists and words could do to me. I didn’t have to remind myself of those things very often, he was good at reminding me himself. But then there were times like these. The moments that were so full of tender touches and loving words. They made me question everything I had come to believe about him. They were enough to convince me that maybe the man I had fallen in love with in that bread aisle so long ago hadn’t truly disappeared.

I was at war with myself. One side screamed that he was evil, reminded me what he was capable of; not letting me forget about the information I had found out about the insurance and what that had meant. But then the other side told me a heart-wrenching story of a broken man, who underneath it all, loves me in the only way he knows how. And that man was Tony. I wanted to hate him, and honestly, most of the time I did. When he’d strike me, curse at me, belittle me, break me… those were the easiest times to hate him. But when he’d be soft, gentle, loving even… those were the times I doubted my hatred toward him. Those were the times I’d find myself battling with my own feelings.

Christmas was that one day a year I was guaranteed to go into battle with my own feelings. It was always a good day, free from the fear of abuse. But it was also filled with turmoil because I knew it would only lead me to let my guard down, vulnerable to the next day’s offerings, when it was no longer Christmas.

Tony was very tight-lipped when it came to his growing up years, but he had shared with me that he loved Christmas because his stepfather would leave to spend the holidays with his parents. This allowed Tony and his mother peace for one day out of the year. Tony and his mother were never invited and I never questioned why. I took that nugget of information and enjoyed the holiday, too. Just as Tony had been gifted the break from his abusive stepfather when he was young, I was now given the same gift.

I followed him downstairs, poured us each a mug of eggnog from the fridge, and accompanied him on the loveseat across from the tree. The fireplace was roaring with life in the corner, filling the room with warmth and a sense of peace. It always took me a moment to adjust to the change. It wasn’t easy to go from fearing the man to loving him as quickly as it was for him to go from hating me to loving me. He never seemed to need any time to adjust. But for me, it took a good portion of the morning, spending most of the time faking it.

I looked over at him when he took my hand in his, holding it in the warmth of his palm on top of his thigh. His dark eyes glistened with serenity—the complete opposite of the stormy swirls of anger that were usually present in them. He smiled and it reminded me of a boy, worried that his smile wouldn’t be returned by someone he loved. On Christmas, Tony was nothing but a boy, and I was nothing but the one he loved, the one he feared wouldn’t return his affection.

So I did. I smiled back at him and watched his chest drop in relief. His breathing turned into short pants, as if the fear had been so heavy that the relief left him with the need to catch his breath. It softened me even more. I knew it would only take a few more moments like those to soften me enough to give him what he wanted. I also knew that my softness would only last a day before his hands would make me hard all over again. But I couldn’t think about that. I had to give him what he wanted. It was the only way I could have what I wanted.

“Would you like your present now?” I asked, breaking the silence in the air.

He shook his head, which surprised me. It wasn’t just his mannerisms on Christmas that mimicked those of a child, it was also his eagerness for what was wrapped beneath the tree.

“I just want to sit here for a moment with you.”

I must’ve given him a confused look because his grip on my hand tightened and his worried expression turned into one of concern. He let out a long sigh and turned his gaze to the fireplace.

“We never know what the future holds. There’s a chance I won’t have this next year. I won’t have you next to me on Christmas morning next year.”

I became even more confused. Did he know something? And if he did, was he admitting without so many words that he would let me go? Question after question filled my brain before they slipped off my tongue into the warm air that curled around us.

“What are you saying, Tony? What is going to happen between now and then?”

He looked back at me, staring contently at my lips. “That’s just it, Charlotte. We don’t know what will happen. There are bad people in this world, and I’ve defended a lot of them. I’ve seen the pictures of the victims, the ones of them after their lives have been taken in some of the worst ways imaginable. I’ve seen what some of the men I’ve defended can do. I worry all the time that one of them will come after you. It’s not like we’ve never had them knock down our front door. It’s happened before; what if it happens again?”

“Is that what you fear?” I don’t know where the question came from or why I felt the need to ask, but the words rolled off my tongue before I had time to catch it. Before I had time to take it back. I didn’t want to know his answer.

He only nodded slowly with the most solemn look on his face. I had never seen it before and it swallowed me whole. “I know I’m not a perfect man. I’m far from it. And I know I don’t deserve you. But my biggest fear in life is living without you. My second biggest fear is how that would happen. I fear I’ll come home one day and find you, looking like those pictures I’ve seen in court. I’m also just as scared that I’ll come home and you won’t be here, leaving behind nothing but a note explaining why you left. I know what I said. I know I told you I would give you a divorce after the trial, but I don’t want that, Char. I don’t want to live without you. I take it all back. Everything. Every pain I’ve caused you, every word I said out of anger, and the promise of letting you go. I don’t want that anymore.”

Again, the battle raged on inside my head. One side argued that it was nothing more than another game. That it was an omen, an incomplete thought of his guilt. He had plans for me, and maybe the reality was hard for him to face, but he had plans nonetheless. And then the other side desperately wanted to believe and cried that he was genuine. The look in his eyes, the stillness of his body, and the warmth of his hand in mine proved that it was nothing more than an admission of fear. A valid fear at that. But it was a pointless war. Neither side would win until the truth came out.

I had no words for him. There was nothing for me to say. It certainly wasn’t the time or place for me to admit my own fears. How they were similar to his, yet vastly different at the same time.

“Let’s not do this, Tony. Not this morning. Not today. It’s Christmas; let’s celebrate that instead. Let’s celebrate that you have me now, today.” The words that I thought would taste like acid on my tongue, flowed out and, to my surprise, felt as if they came from my heart. I knew that topic wouldn’t be revisited, but I couldn’t discuss it that morning.

He reached his free hand up to my cheek and lightly grazed my jaw with his fingertips. His eyes never left mine until his eyelids closed, ever so softly, and he brought his lips to mine. It wasn’t a forceful or demanding kiss. It wasn’t even a passionate kiss. It was a kiss that seemed full of all the words he was incapable of saying to me for whatever reason. It told me of his love, even though it had been forever since he had actually uttered those words to me. It told me of his guilt, his remorse, his pain. But again, those are all things he’s never sincerely told me himself.

I pulled away but kept my face close to his. “Want your present now?”

Again, he shook his head. With a smile, he said, “No. I want you to have yours first.” And with that, he pulled away to gather my gift from beneath the tree. It was a smaller box wrapped in shiny gold paper. It was in the shape of a book and it made me wonder what he had gotten me. He usually bought me really nice presents for Christmas.

I held it in my hands, weighing it as I mentally guessed what it could be. I wanted to drag it out, knowing I was only given a set amount of hours of peace. I didn’t want to rush it along. I wanted to bask in the tenderness and unspoken love Tony showed me.

Tony had his hands on my knees as he waited for me to unwrap it, urging me with his intense stare. I could tell it was something he was excited for me to have. And because of that, I knew it wasn’t jewelry. He always gave me jewelry, and although they were nice pieces, they never meant much to me. I always tied it to the pieces he used to give me as apologies.

I looked up into his black eyes and began to tear the paper at the edges of the box. I kept my gaze on him as he watched in childlike excitement as I opened the gift he was so eager for me to have.

Once all the paper was removed from the box, I finally looked down to take the lid off. What was inside had stolen my breath from my lungs. It also quieted the negative voices in my head that screamed what a monster he was. Every voice in my head was sighing at the gesture that was undeniably the sweetest thing he had ever done.

In a gold frame etched with swirls was a picture of him and me from our very first date. The day he found me in the grocery store and asked me to have lunch with him. I had followed him to a nearby park where we sat in the grass under a shade tree. We had two loaves of bread, one we used for sandwiches and one we used to feed the ducks.

I remembered not wanting to leave but didn’t voice it. Tony, on the other hand, admitted it bravely aloud. I didn’t want to be too easy for him to catch, so I told him to take a picture to hold him over until the next time he saw me. I thought it would be of just me, but instead, he pulled my back to his chest and took a picture of the two of us.

It had been so long since I last saw that picture. I wasn’t even aware that he had kept a copy of it. But there, in my hands, sat the glossy picture encased in a gorgeous gold frame. My heart soared. Then it flew even higher when I looked up into Tony’s eyes for the first time since seeing my gift.

His eyes sparkled and he wore an insecure smile on his face. I had never seen that kind of smile playing on his lips before. I had seen the kind of smile from laughter, malice, and irony… but never one that left him looking so vulnerable and bare.

“Do you like it?” he asked, lacking all the confidence I knew he possessed.

I touched his face, feeling the prickly hairs beneath my palm that only served to enhance his looks. “I love it, Tony. It’s beautiful and unexpected. I didn’t know you still had this picture.” I wanted to lean in and kiss his lips. That yearning had shocked me since I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to kiss him.