Saving Avery (5 page)

Nathan forbids me to cry in front of him. Deep down I think the tears remind him of how much he's actually hurting me, and he doesn't want to face the truth. I used to cry and scream and yell at him, but I learned a long time ago that it only leads to more punishment, more pain and a hell of a lot more tears. I'm conditioned to feel numb around him, and it's easier that way. The only downfall is that I also feel numb around everyone else all the time.

Nathan wasn't always like this. He was so sweet and kind at first, especially the first night we met at my graduation party. I quickly fell in love with him. Thinking back on it now, though, I realize I never knew what love really was. I think I fell in love with the idea of him. I was young and inexperienced as to the cruelties of the world. Nathan portrayed himself as someone completely opposite of who he is now. The man I fell for was nothing but a carefully crafted façade, a myth, a real-life monster in disguise. And there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret saying
I do
at the wedding. Two years, one month and fifteen days later I'm still regretting it.

Things could have been so different for me if I hadn't met Nathan. I would have traveled Europe, exploring my independence and then headed to college like I had always planned, becoming a teacher instead of a
trophy wife
. I hated that term with a passion, but that was exactly what I had become. I was a piece of eye candy hanging on my husband's arm at every event, every party, every social gathering.

I like to think about the possible
what ifs
sometimes even if it hurts me to my very core. What if I would have met someone in college, someone kind and gentle who wouldn't even think of laying a hand on me? We would have fallen in love, married, had two-point-five kids and lived in a house with a white picket fence in the suburbs. I would be happy.

Sighing, I shake my head, dispelling the notion. The dreams I once had for my life have slowly been destroyed one by one. I try not to think about how different my life could be now, because it only depresses me further. As long as I am here in this
prison
with
him
, I will never have a future --- at least not a happy one.

I'm only twenty-three, but I feel like a shell of my former carefree, rebellious self. And I worry that if I don't get out of this relationship soon, the person that I used to be will never come to the surface again. She will drown in self-loathing and depression, and I will be broken for the rest of my life, too afraid to leave and not strong enough to fight anymore.

I stand and wipe away my tears. It's dark now, and the full moon and twinkling stars above illuminate the night sky. As I straighten my clothes, I can feel my mask falling back into place. I'm sick of pretending to be happy, but I have no other choice.

Making my way back to the porch, I glance at the house for sale next door and notice a light is on in the living room. With no blinds on the windows, it's easy to see in. The room is filled with furniture, and I wonder if the realtor is staging the home for another open house. Thinking nothing more of it, I climb the steps of our porch and go inside.

I change into pajamas and lie down on the bed as close to the edge as I can. Nathan stirs in his sleep and reaches for me. I grimace as he pulls me towards the middle of the mattress and wraps his arm around my waist tightly, crushing me against him. Even in his sleep he's possessive.

Closing my eyes, I think about today, attempting to focus on something positive. Dr. Harrison invades my thoughts. When I saw him today, I felt something; and I haven't felt much of anything over the past two years. But the fact that he makes me
feel
means I need to steer clear of him. Until I leave Nathan, until my life is actually my own, I can't bring anyone else into this mess. Max seems really nice. It's too bad I'll never have the chance to get to know him.
In another life
, I tell myself. In another life, I could fall in love with someone who loved me back and have the future I always wanted.

Eventually, sleep takes hold of me. I find peace within my dreams that are permeated with Max's dark gaze and kind smile.

*

MAX

I sit in the living room nursing a beer in a comfortable oversized recliner that the saleswoman at the furniture store picked out. She said I would love it, and she was right. I do love it. It's the best piece of furniture I've ever owned.

I take a swig of beer and sigh. The house is quiet. Too quiet. The satellite company is coming tomorrow, so at least I'll have TV for the upcoming weekend. Chuckling to myself, I shake my head. I can't believe I'm actually looking forward to watching television on the weekend instead of going out, but I pretty much left all my friends behind when I moved from Chicago to Nags Head.

My fingers dance around the screen of my cell phone. I consider playing some music to break the silence, but then decide not to bother. After this beer, I'm hitting the sack anyway. It was an exhausting day. The hospital isn't as large as the one I left, but I had a routine there. It was familiar. It was home to me. I did my residency there and was hired into a full-time position right away in the pediatrics department. I knew my way around. I was comfortable. Now I'm completely out of my element once again, attempting to learn all new protocols and procedures and trying not to step on any toes in the process. And if I didn't have a pretty brunette distracting me, maybe I could learn everything the first time around.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. Avery. I can't stop thinking about her. She looks like she stepped out of some sort of fairytale. I almost expect birds to be flying around and singing and fluffy bunnies hopping behind her at the hospital. But this fairytale won't have a happy ending for me, because she's married.

Sighing, I slump down in the chair and glance around my new pad in an attempt to distract myself from thinking about her. The house is huge and on a private beach, to boot. I still can't believe how I lucked into it. I'm only renting as of right now. The realtor worked some magic and convinced the desperate owner that month-to-month rent was better than letting it sit empty. The rent isn't cheap, but to be able to stick my toes in the sand and swim in the ocean in my downtime will outweigh the cost. And it's definitely much roomier than the hotel room I've been crammed into for over a week when I first got into town.

The house is still on the market; and if they get a seller, I'm out on my ass. But I'm going to enjoy it while I can. I think buying this place would have been a bigger jump than I wanted to take considering the hefty price tag. And plus the thought of settling down here makes the reason why I left Chicago seem even more real, and I want to live in denial for just a little bit longer.

I still can't believe I actually went through with the move. I had a lot going for me back home at one point in time. I had a beautiful fiancée, a great job and wonderful friends and coworkers. But once I found out my fiancée Gretchen was cheating on me, I decided I needed a change of pace and that I needed to put as much distance between us as was humanly possible. She broke my heart into a million pieces, and I would never be able to forgive her or my so-called best friend that she slept with.

So I returned to the one place that had always made me happy as a kid. My parents often took my sister Megan and I on vacation to Outer Banks. My family still lives in southern Virginia, and Nags Head is a hell of a lot closer than Chicago. In my mind it's a win-win situation.

I bring the bottle of beer to my lips and take a long pull on it. I was never much of a drinker, but having one in the evening when I'm alone helps to numb the hurt I've been feeling since I called off my engagement. Gretchen really turned my world upside down in the worst possible way. I was going to spend the rest of my life with that girl. She was the one woman who finally tamed the
ultimate bachelor
, as my friends called me, and she stomped on my fucking heart.

I run a hand through my hair and chug the last of the beer, setting the empty bottle on the end table. Tired of sitting in silence, I get up and walk out onto the back porch. I stand in almost complete darkness, having forgotten to hit the switch for the outside lights. There are a lot of things I need to learn about this house, but so far I just haven't had the time.

I move to the edge of the deck and close my eyes. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore is soothing, and it reaffirms my decision to move here. I most definitely could fall asleep to the sound of the ocean. It's so damn peaceful.

As I concentrate on the waves, I faintly pick up on another sound. It sounds like…someone crying. My eyes snap open and search the beach. They almost instantly settle on a figure sitting in the sand. Her long dark hair is whipping in the wind, and her back and shoulders are slouched forward as if the weight of the world is upon her at that very moment. Her hands cup her face as she sobs into them.

My heart instantly aches for this girl, and I wonder what happened to make her cry like that. I don't know if she's one of my neighbors or not since I haven't really made a point to introduce myself to any of them. The realtor was in such a hurry for me to the sign the lease that she didn't really expound on the neighborhood either.

I watch the woman from the shadows of the deck. She cries for a long time, and I'm unable to tear my gaze away. It's as if I'm mesmerized. Her sobs are heartbreakingly sad, and I feel a deep ache inside of me that I have never felt before.

After several minutes, I watch as she slowly stands, carefully wiping the tears from her eyes and straightening her clothes as if nothing happened. She turns and walks up the pathway towards the house next door. It's only when she's within a short distance from the porch that I can make out her features under the lamppost. A small gasp escapes my lips as the realization sets in that I know her.
Avery
. Her piercing blue-gray eyes stare in my direction as I say her name in my mind, and I stand stock-still, holding my breath. I know she can't see me, but I would hate for her to know that I was watching her. Her eyes float over the outside of the house and lock onto the living room where I left the light on. Her eyebrows knit together, and then she continues up the steps and vanishes inside the house next door.

Releasing a breath, I lean against the railing and stare out over the ocean. Avery's life is like a jigsaw in my mind, and the pieces are slowly falling together as I learn more about her. I find myself wanting to complete the puzzle and see the whole picture, because I think there is much more to her than meets the eye. I have a compelling urge to protect her, and I have a feeling deep down that's exactly what she needs right now.

AVERY

It's Wednesday afternoon, and Jacob is showing me how to build an awesome array of Lego vehicles, airplanes and castles. I am so excited about Nathan leaving on Friday for his weeklong conference in Seattle that I am in a better mood than usual. Jacob must have been able to sense it, because he insisted on going to the activities room to play. He hardly ever wants to leave his room, so this is a big deal for him. He pulls a portable IV pole behind him as he floats his newly built stunt airplane in the air with his other hand. He mimics engine noises with his mouth, and I can't help but grin.

"Wow, Jacob. That is the coolest plane I have ever seen."

"Really?" he asks with wide-eyed innocence.

I chuckle. "Yes, really."

He smirks and continues to fly his plane around the room. My eyes follow him before catching a glimpse of two figures in the hallway. My eyes lock onto Dr. Harrison as he talks with Dr. Benson. Max throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh at something funny the other man said. His laugh is infectious, and a smile tugs at my lips.

His dark shaggy hair falls in front of his eyes as he leans forward; and he's quick to give his head a slight shake, so that the hair returns to its natural and sexy just-got-out-of-bed style. I can't seem to drag my gaze away from him no matter how hard I try. For the first time in a long time, I feel attracted to a man and not fearful of being around him. I guess Nathan hasn't stolen everything from me after all.

For the past couple of days, I've been seeing Max more and more around the hospital. He always says hi or tries to strike up a conversation with me in the halls. I usually just smile or wave. And for the past two days, we've eaten lunch together in the cafeteria. I think I maybe said a total of five words to him as he jabbered away about the hospital and the weather. It's not that I don't want to talk to him, but I have a deep-rooted fear instilled in me that both of us will end up getting hurt in the long run. Until I am free from Nathan, I can't even think about being with anyone else. If Max would get hurt because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself.

In all actuality, I doubt if I even have any real chance with Max. I'm sure he's just trying to be friendly. Nevertheless, he always seems nervous around me, for some reason; and it's undeniably sweet and cute. I've seen him talking to the nurses, who are all clamoring to get his attention. It's against hospital policy to date coworkers, but people do it all the time anyway. I'm sure he'll have no problem finding a willing nurse to keep their relationship on the down low. A pang of jealousy hits me hard when I think of him being with someone else, but I have no reason to be jealous over a relationship that I could never have.

As if sensing my gaze, Max turns and looks at me. He caught me staring, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. His lips curl up into a big grin. He gives me a wave, and I wave back. He takes a step towards the doorway, but Dr. Benson says something and points down the hall. I watch as a deep frown appears on Max's face before he nods and follows the other doctor.

I wonder if he's upset because he didn't get the chance to talk to me. My heart beats a little faster at the thought. Even though I know we would never stand a chance, it's still exciting to think about the possibility.

"Avery, can we come back in here some other day and build a rocket ship?" Jacob asks, diverting my attention from the now empty hallway.

"Sure, Jacob. Whatever you want."

"Awesome!" he says enthusiastically.

Jacob is having one of his better days, and I hope that he does feel up to playing in the activities room again. His condition is so touch and go at the moment while he goes through treatments. It breaks my heart when he's sick, but he lights up my life when he's having a good day like today.

I keep an eye on the time. Nathan's threat is still fresh on my mind from the other night. I cannot be late. I'm looking forward to when he's gone next week, and I won't have the compulsive need to glance at my watch every few minutes. "Okay. I think it's time to clean up."

It's a team effort putting all the tiny Lego pieces back into the appropriate boxes. Once we're done, I walk Jacob back to his room and tuck him into bed. "Did you have a good day?" I ask.

"The best!" His little arms reach out and hug me tight.

I can feel my emotions getting the better of me as I hug him back. "I'm so happy to hear that." My eyes roll up at the ceiling as I try my best to keep the tears at bay. If he only knew how much his small gesture means to me.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Avery," Jacob says, pulling away.

"Okay, buddy. See you tomorrow." I am overwhelmed with happiness when I leave his room. I grab my purse and make my way to the parking garage.

On the way home, my happiness is slowly replaced with sadness, tension and worry. I park the car and rush into the house. Nathan is not home yet, fortunately.

I quickly pull my hair up into a ponytail and change out of my scrubs and into a simple, but expensive gray tank dress and matching flats. My hands are a blur as they move quickly to prepare dinner and set the table. Half an hour later I hear Nathan's car pull up and the door slam shut. An instant feeling of dread creeps upon me. I always get that sinking feeling when he comes home.

Nathan enters the house with a smile on his face. He reminds me of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I never know who is going to be walking through that door and what kind of mood he is going to be in.

With a forced smile on my face, I ask, "How was your day?"

"Good," he says. "Very good actually." Coming up from behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist. Then he stills. "Something you're forgetting?" he asks in a low voice.

I scramble to think of what I could have forgotten. It could be something as little as a dish I left in the sink or something he told me to do and I didn't remember. I'm in panic mode as I try to think. My heart pounds hard against my ribcage with an erratic rhythm. Think! I scream in my head.

He steps away, and I feel my entire body automatically tense in preparation for retribution. "Your apron," he whispers in my ear as he puts the loop around my neck and ties it around my waist. "We don't want to ruin these beautiful clothes I work so hard to buy for you, now do we?"

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. I hate apologizing all the time, but it comes so naturally to me now.

"No need to be sorry, Avery. Just learn from your mistakes." His hands gently massage my tight shoulders. "You're so tense," he whispers against the shell of my ear. "Maybe I can help you with that." He kisses my neck as his hands trail down the length of my body.

I force myself not to cringe from his touch. "I'll never be able to finish cooking if you keep doing that." I try hard to make my tone lighthearted so that he doesn't sense anything's wrong. It's not that Nathan isn't aware of my displeasure towards him and especially towards his abuse. It's just easier if I play along with his sick game. He likes to pretend that we have the perfect, happy marriage, but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

He grins against my throat. "All right. I'll save it for later," he promises.

My stomach drops at his promise, but I continue on with the task of making dinner in an attempt to distract myself.

We eat in silence, as usual. Nathan received a phone call while dinner was in the oven, and his mood drastically went from good to bad. He glances at his phone every time it buzzes. A deep frown is set on his face, and I can feel the anger coming off of him in waves.

I take my time eating, hoping that he'll get tired and just go to bed without touching me. As I'm lifting a forkful of food to my mouth, he says, "Go brush your teeth and put the black and pink chemise on that I like."

I stare down at my plate. "But I'm not done eating." My voice sounds so weak and small, and I cringe inwardly.

He glares at me from across the table and slowly stands. His eyes look wild. His inner Hyde is back in full swing. "Don't test me, Avery," he says in an unnervingly soft tone. "Get up and do what I told you to do. Now!" he commands, slamming his fist down on the table.

I jump, and my fork clinks down on the plate as it falls from my grip. I stand up from my chair and hurry into the master bathroom. My hands are trembling as I fumble with the toothbrush and toothpaste. I manage to squeeze a small amount onto the brush and stick it in my mouth. I can see the tears welling up in my eyes, but I don't dare let them fall. If he sees them, he'll be even more upset with me. I hum to myself, a calming method I have been using since I was a child after my mother died. Slowly the tears dry up, and I quickly spit and rinse my mouth.

I walk into the adjoining bedroom. In another life, I would dream of a bedroom like this. The floor-to-ceiling windows on the far wall overlook the beach and ocean. The plush carpet is ivory, and the furniture is dark in stark contrast to it. The focal point of the room is the four-poster mahogany king-sized bed. The sight of it always makes my stomach tie into knots, and tonight is no exception.

Feeling nauseous, my fingers scramble to pull open the doors and top drawer of the armoire. After a few seconds, I spot the babydoll chemise Nathan was talking about. I undress quickly and slip into the lacey material that leaves nothing to the imagination.

"Lovely," Nathan says from the doorway.

Startled, I turn to him. I had no idea he was watching me.

"Come here," he demands, as his eyes greedily sweep over my form.

Reluctantly, I slowly walk over to him. His fingertips graze down my sides, and I shiver in response to his touch. Then his hands wrap around my waist and pull me roughly against him. He puts a finger under my chin and makes me meet his gaze. "I want you so bad right now," he breathes against my lips. His mouth slants over mine. The kiss is soft at first, but grows demanding far too quickly. He snakes his fingers into my hair, gripping tightly and pulling until my scalp is throbbing in pain. Locked into his grasp, his lips press harder against mine in a bruising kiss.

His hands release my hair and move to my wrist. He abruptly twists me around and shoves me over to the bed. His hand is on my back, forcing me facedown on the mattress and pinning me down. I don't dare resist even though every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do just that. Instead, I turn my head to the side and stare out the tall windows at the dark ocean beyond, wishing that I could disappear into the water and not face what is about to happen.

The sound of him unzipping his pants fills the room, and a shudder runs through me. My breathing is shallow through the web of my long hair covering my face. Once he's undressed, he pushes my thighs apart. He always takes me like this, from behind. With another man, it might be an enjoyable position. But with Nathan, it feels degrading, as if he can't bear to look at me. We've never had sex any other way. And since he was my first, I don't know any other way.

I can feel his hard length poised at my entrance. I tell myself to breathe through the pain, to try to relax so it hurts less, but my body tenses up from knowing what's coming next. He's done this before so many times --- taken me when I wasn't ready…violating me…
raping me
.

"Wait! Please!" I cry out.

But he doesn't even hesitate. He parts my lips and enters quickly, brutally spearing me. With no lubrication, it feels like I'm being torn in half. I turn my face into the mattress to muffle my screams. He continues his brutal assault, pumping in and out of me inch by inch until he completely forces his way inside.

"You. Are. Mine," he says, enunciating each word with a powerful thrust.

Tears fill my eyes and spill over onto the sheets below. The pain is excruciating, and I know he won't stop until he gets his fill of me. I try to steady my breathing, but silent sobs wrack my body as he continues to assault me. His hands grope their way up the length of my body and tightly encircle my wrists, holding me in place as he thrusts savagely. His fingers are forming new bruises over the old ones that barely had a chance to heal. The bruises are his marks of ownership, his way of displaying his power over me.

I don't fight back. I've been conditioned with years of mental abuse to learn not to fight back. When you fight back, it's worse. My brain goes into hibernation mode, not being able to handle the overload of sensory abuse on my body. And so I quietly drift into another state where I'm calm, unaware of my surroundings. I stare out the windows at the dark water, and I picture myself as a bird flying over the waves. I feel so free and happy, gliding through the night without a care in the world.

I want to disappear.

Let me disappear.

I close my eyes and repeat those two sentences in my mind over and over again. I withdraw into myself, barely feeling any pain now. I block out his heaving pants and grunts. And then it's quiet. I'm in a different place, and anywhere is better than here. It's amazing what your mind is capable of when you're in a situation you can't escape physically. The more time that passes while I'm with Nathan, the more withdrawn and numb I become. Soon I wonder if I'll be able to feel anything ever again.

My face sinks down into the cool cotton sheet now wet with my tears as he grunts one final time. He collapses on top of me, his hot breath on the back of my neck. "That was so good, baby," he whispers and kisses my tear-stained cheek. He slowly pulls out of me and walks to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. Are you staying up?" he asks sweetly.