Hindsight (5 page)

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Authors: Leddy Harper,Marlo Williams,Kristen Switzer

BOOK: Hindsight
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I knew more of Tony’s secrets then he thought I did. I knew the locations to his two safes in our home as well as the different combinations to each one. I knew much more than Tony thought I did. Much, much, more.

He was on his way to his office downtown, where a letter was awaiting him. A letter from me. Three more would find their way to various places, such as the newspaper, his boss, and the police if he dared to test me. Yes, he drastically underestimated me. All of the secrets that he thought he was so clever to keep from me were all spelled out in my handwriting, on his desk, waiting to be read. I didn’t dare take any chance of him returning. I went at him full force, hoping to knock him on his ass as he had done me so many times before.

I had planned it out, thought about any and all roadblocks I could have possibly encountered. I had my money that would last me at least three months, longer if I needed it to. I didn’t need much, unlike Tony. All of the wealth we once had was of no importance to me. I didn’t want it. All I wanted was to wake up and not fear that it would be the last day I would ever open my eyes. Once I ran out of the money I had saved, I would find another way to survive, because that’s what I was, a survivor.

I limped to my phone and turned off the recording. Then I limped to Tony’s den and quickly sent it to his email address. It may have been risky, but it was my final bid. He was a smart man, and he knew enough to back away. It may not have been enough to keep him away for long, but it was enough to keep him at bay for the time being until I had all my ducks in a row.

I needed to see Sean; he had told me he no longer wanted to hear from me until Tony was gone. I felt relief flood my system at the thought of Tony being gone from my life for good. He would be pissed and I had to be ready for him to retaliate.

That’s why I needed to patch myself up and get dressed.

I had the locksmith and alarm people coming over to change the locks and upgrade the alarm system.

I needed to feel safe. But I also knew that no matter what, I probably never would feel safe. As long as I was still breathing and Tony was out there, I couldn’t relax.

One person could only endure so much.

I dragged me broken body up the stairs and got ready for the locksmith and alarm people to come over. As I waited, I started to pack Tony’s clothes into boxes I had been storing. It didn’t take long since I didn’t bother to pack with care. I treated his clothes the same way he had treated me, with absolute disregard.

After the installers left, I then took the boxes and delivered them to
her
.

She wanted him.

She could have him.

She didn’t have to feel the need to fight me anymore.

The fight was over.

January 29
th
, 2015

 

I was out at my favorite boutique trying to kill time. Shopping had become a passion of mine. It was the only way to kill time while Tony was at work. I had no friends, well except for Norma and my shelter friends, but Tony didn’t know about that. Tony had insisted I spend all my free time with him and cleaning house, which left little time for them, but I fit them in where I could. My old friends, the ones I had before I married Tony, eventually stopped calling me since I was never available to do things. They got tired of my excuses and moved on to other things.

It led me to finding other things to occupy my time, like shopping, going for frozen yogurt, or getting pedicures, all by myself. I also had the animal shelter and my rosebushes. I loved to garden and the animals had become my babies.

I couldn’t buy anything at the boutique since all of my credit cards no longer worked. I couldn’t use the cash I had saved since I would be depending on using it later on. I shouldn’t have even been window shopping, knowing I couldn’t buy anything, but I needed an escape from the house.

I had a plan. I was going to leave him and ask for a divorce but I wasn’t quite ready. In a few days, I would be. I hoped I could survive until then. I lived in constant fear that he would finally kill me during one of the punishments he bestowed upon me. I was done. I had reached my breaking point. I was to the point that if I didn’t leave him soon, I didn’t know how much longer I could survive.

I finally left the store. I had looked through the entire shop in a couple of hours and couldn’t think of a reason to stay any longer. Plus, the store clerks started to look at me suspiciously.

As I exited the store, I noticed a man standing on the opposite side of the street. It wasn’t abnormal that someone be standing there, but the way he was staring at me made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He had dark hair, maybe black, and it was slightly longer than Tony’s. It hit the collar of his shirt and flipped up at the ends. Tony would never let his hair get that long. But there was something about the man—the way he was standing, the way he was watching me—reminded me of my husband. It wasn’t the first time I had seen him, and that’s what made it worse. It wasn’t a coincidence that he was there. He had been sent there. And I could only image by whom.

I knew what Tony had been up to, I had heard his disturbing phone call only five days earlier. I knew why he had sent this man to follow me, but the one thing that didn’t make sense was why had he been watching me before the call I had overheard?

I walked away, pretending as if his existence didn’t bother me, even though it did, and decided to get a smoothie from my favorite place. It was inexpensive compared to the clothes I used to buy. I decided to splurge and spend the four dollars on a smoothie. I wanted to sit down to people watch for a while; I needed to be more aware of my surroundings. I loved to watch people and their interactions. I would try to guess what they were discussing and what life they would go home to. My life was such a disaster that anything seemed better.

There was a mother with a little girl sitting at the table next to mine. The girl looked like she was four or five, but I was horrible with depicting the ages of children. I had never had any experiences to go from. There weren’t any children in my family since my parents and I had all been only children in our families. I had grown up living a very lonely life. I desired the thought of having children and a big happy family, until I married Tony. As soon as we were married and he had turned in to the spawn of Satan, I no longer wanted that. I would never put a child through what I as an adult had a hard time enduring.

I found myself pretending to be the mother of that beautiful little girl sitting next to me. She was my daughter and we were going home to a beautiful house in the hills. My husband was wonderful and cherished me. He told me every day how lucky he was to be married to me and thanked me for giving him such an amazing child.

When I inserted myself into the lives I had imagined these people lived, I found it addicting. It was such a vivid escape of my haunting life that I never wanted to leave.

I listened to the conversation between them for a while until they finished their lunch and left. When they left, part of me wanted to go with them, to continue the façade I had created in my mind. It was such a good life. I didn’t want it to end.

I sighed as I picked up my empty smoothie cup and tossed it in the trash on the sidewalk. It was time to head home. I prolonged it long enough, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t escape the inevitable.

Tony would be home in another couple of hours and I still needed to prepare dinner for him. Preparing his meals was such an ordeal that I didn’t like to rush things. I already had the steaks marinating so all that I had to do was boil the potatoes and toss a salad. It seemed easy enough and would have been easier without the added stress of Tony. I couldn’t help but think of all the things that could go wrong with the meal during the preparation. I drove myself crazy sometimes with all the anxiety. That’s one of the reasons why I had decided to leave him. I couldn’t do this any longer.

When I arrived home, I started to stress about whether or not Tony would be in a good mood tonight. Sometimes, he would arrive home so angry it wouldn’t even matter if the dinner were perfect. There would be something wrong with it, no matter what I did. It was hard preparing a dinner while knowing you couldn’t win. His behavior had gotten so much worse these last couple of months, but it was right after Christmas when things really changed.

I prepared the meal as best as I could, and by the time Tony arrived home, I was a fucking wreck. I had fixed myself two martinis to calm down, which frazzled my mind and made it hard to concentrate. I was having a harder time than usual because of all the stuff that had come to light lately. I decided to fix a drink for him as well—dirty, just the way the prick liked it.

I walked to the front door with his drink and greeted him. He had a perpetual frown on his face lately and tonight was no different. He looked like he had eaten a handful of sour grapes. I sucked in a breath and dug deep for courage as I handed him his drink and took his briefcase. I wondered why he still used the beautiful briefcase I had given him if he hated me so much.

“Hello, Tony,” I greeted him demurely, instantly slipping into my submissive housewife role that he preferred. I had played the part for so long that the transition was seamless and effortless. I just needed to keep it up for a bit longer.

He grunted in response, but at least it wasn’t a slap, strike, or kick, so that was favorable. I had learned to take what I could get. I never received a smile from him anymore, so a grunt was a good thing. I couldn’t complain about a grunt.

I put his briefcase away in his den while he went to sit at the dining room table. He was in a mood, which I had anticipated, but now that I was faced with it, my nerves were on end.

I hummed while I fixed our plates in the kitchen, trying to ease my nervousness. He couldn’t hear me from the dining room, which is the only reason I got away with the humming. I swear, the man was allergic to anything even remotely close to happiness.

I brought our two salads and garlic bread out to the table to start off the delicious meal I had agonized over. I had put his dressing on the side, just like he preferred, but knew something would be wrong.

I tensely sat in my seat while he took his first bite.

Nothing.

Silence.

What did that mean? He never gave a compliment, ever. So was no news, good news?

I held my breath until he had finished nearly half his salad.

“Aren’t you eating?” he questioned me with a frown and harsh tone.

I immediately picked up my fork and ate a few bites. Once he was finished, I picked up our plates—even though I wasn’t done yet—and returned them to the kitchen to prepare our main course. I had whipped up his favorite for dessert and hoped we would get that far.

I brought out the steaks and garlic mashed potatoes with steamed broccoli. I set the perfectly proportioned plate in front of him first and then me. I knew better than to serve myself first. I had made that mistake long ago, and never made it again.

I sat down timidly and waited while he inspected his food. I was on pins and needles as he poked and prodded every item with his fork, just waiting for a complaint that would send the entire dinner into a tailspin. I let out my breath when he finally took a bite of steak and then mashed potatoes.

I picked up my fork and started in on my own plate. I had zero appetite but forced myself to eat a few bites. I was waiting for him to bring up the credit card statement but he never did. I couldn’t understand it. He was so angry about it that morning at breakfast, but now there was nothing. And, of course, I wasn’t going to bring it up.

It was probably another one of his games.

We were just about done with dinner—well, he was; I had only managed to push my food around on my plate—when he finally spoke. It seemed so loud compared to the silence we had been eating in.

“Do you want to discuss what you overheard yesterday?” he asked me quietly.

I stayed silent, unsure if he really expected or wanted an answer.

That was another game he liked to play.

“I’m assuming you do. I would want to talk if I overheard you having phone sex with someone else,” he spoke the words stealthily, as if he were on a mission of his own to find out what was going on.

What exactly did I know?
A whole hell of a lot, but I wasn’t telling him anything. I knew this game well. If I divulged too much or not enough, things wouldn’t go well. I just kept quiet, waiting for a hint as to what I was expected to do.

“You don’t fuck me the way I like. You’re a cold fish. What did you expect me to do? I’m a man with needs,” he seethed as I looked down at my plate. It wasn’t the first time he had felt the need to inform me of how horrible I was in bed. It wouldn’t be the last, either. I honestly didn’t care what got him off, as long as it wasn’t me.

He hit the table with his fist and I jumped. My nerves were shattered and on edge. I usually knew what to do or say by that point in the game, but not that time. It was the first time he mentioned his extra-marital affairs, and I wasn’t about to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

“I met her at work; she’s the daughter of one of the other lawyers I work with. She sucks me like a whore and fucks me like I have the best dick in the world. I don’t think I will ever have the urge to fuck you again.”

I finally looked up at him, my eyes full of anger. I hated him with every breath that consumed my body. I couldn’t hold the anger back for much longer. It was getting harder and harder to do. I went back and forth between being nervous Nelly to angry Ingrid; his hurtful words were becoming too much to bear. I knew that Laurie wasn’t the daughter of one of the lawyers. She was his assistant.

“I see that she does care what I say.” He smiled wickedly, happy that I had given him the response he sought.

“Fuck you, Tony. You can fuck the whole damn town for all I care. I’ve never enjoyed fucking you either, ever.” I silently kicked myself for not having the control to shut this game down versus playing it out the way he desired.

He smirked and there was an evil sparkle to his eye. It looked as if it were a reflection from a flame. He truly was Satan. The more he sat there and smiled, the more my body quaked with nerves.

“You know how I like a challenge.”

Fuck!

I knew what was coming next, and I had two choices: fight or relent. I had learned long ago that fighting only made it worse. If I relented, then the backlash would be less. He didn’t enjoy it as much when I allowed it to happen. So, relenting became my only true option.

He slowly and methodically rose from his chair, keeping his dark, demented eyes set on mine. I swear they were black as midnight and I didn’t dare look away. I needed to know when he would strike. There was nothing worse than a surprise attack, even when I anticipated it. I had to watch him, so that I would know the exact moment to expect it.

Tony leaned over my chair and brought his face within inches of mine. “How about I show you just how much you enjoy fucking me.”

I shook my head, but it was only out of reflex. I knew no matter what I did or said, he would get his way. There was no use in trying to sway his mind. It would never work.

“I’m doing this for you, princess. It’s clearly not for me. Once I’m done with you, I’m going to Laurie’s house so that I can at least be satisfied. Maybe next time you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.”

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me from my chair. With one hand, he shoved the plates from the top of the table and I heard them hit the wall before smashing to the ground. The sound of shattering glass filled the air around us. Then, once the table was free of objects, he slammed me down on the hard wood, face first.

With his hold still tight in my hair, he pulled my skirt up around my waist and ripped my panties from my body with his free hand. Then I heard the familiar sound of the zipper on his slacks.

Tears spilled from my eyes as I lay still against the table. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the fight in me, it was that after so many attempts, I knew I wouldn’t win. The only thing I could do was lay there and wait for him to finish.

I never knew how long it took him; I never stopped to keep track of the time. Instead, I let my mind wander. I let it take me to other places, anywhere other than where I was. That time, it took me to that imaginary life I had with the little girl from the smoothie shop.

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