I walked back to my house with slow, unwilling steps, wondering -- not for the first time -- what made me go back, knowing that pain would be the only result of my interactions with my husband. Edward's questions were still echoing through my mind. I realized that what he was saying was the truth, my friends wouldn't want me to protect them, if it meant that I was hurt. But I had been loving them and protecting them this way for so very long. I knew it was a stubbornness that bordered on madness that kept me going, but I wasn't sure I would ever be able to stop. Stopping meant that all those years of gritting my teeth behind a pleasurable smile were all in vain. Stopping meant breaking down the foundation of my beliefs, tearing apart the only thing that kept me going. And I wasn't going to live through these next few hours without believing I was doing the right thing, I just wasn't.
I opened the door and walked into a silent house, the echoing silence a sign in itself. No people around could only mean one thing, my husband had made sure that the household staff was nowhere to be seen, he had made sure that we had the house to ourselves. Cold shivers ran down my back, and the familiar feeling of deepest dread made me want to turn around and run as fast as I could. I took one deep breath and started walking up the stairs aiming for my bedroom. I sat down on my bed and waited for what was to come, the waiting game that was like a sick, twisted version of foreplay to my husband, who knew that dreading what was to come was almost as bad as the main event.
The sound of my door opening and closing softly made me look up, surprised that I wasn't kept waiting for much, much longer. My husband walked in, gripping his phone with tense, white fingers, talking angrily with someone who was yelling back at him. He ended the phone call with an annoyed "I'll be right there", and then looked at me with hate shining from his eyes.
"It seems we'll have to postpone our little chat," he said, his voice tight and angry "but I wanted you to know that I've made special plans for you. And that I'll make sure we have a long, nice talk tomorrow, ok?"
He walked away with quick steps, his whole body radiating anger, leaving me sitting there, breath stuck in my throat. I listened to his footsteps and wondered who the person on the phone had been and what was important enough for him run off before he was done with me.
Temporarily left off the hook, I let myself fall back onto my bed. A whole day to contemplate my life, doubt every decision I had ever made and ultimately regret my sins and maybe pray for forgiveness?
I stood up, walked into the bath room, removed my clothes, turned the water on and sat down on the floor of the shower. I pulled myself into a small ball, tightening my arms around my legs, letting my head rest on my knees. The warm water flowed over me as I sat, trying to hold myself together.
It was just another day, but still so different from all the other days. In the last few weeks I had seen kindness and I had felt hope. I had filled my frozen heart with precious feelings and I had come alive in a way that made me believe in, made me long for, a brighter future. I had thought I would be able to grow stronger, but by letting myself love and hope, I had instead somehow become softer, and a soft Rose was a very, very frightened Rose.
I sat in that shower until the shivers that were running through my mind and through my body stilled. I sat until I was able to focus my thoughts on the one thing that mattered, to keep going. I would divide my day into small, livable chunks, and just... keep... going.
I rose from the floor, shut the water off, dried off and got dressed. I had my usual salad for lunch and then took a long walk in the garden. I didn't stop to sit down, but kept moving. I looked at Edward's house, not sure if I wanted him to still be in there, so he could see I was alright or if I wanted him to have gone away, that he and Alfred were safely removed to some unknown place, far, far away.
That evening and night spent in that cold, silent house created another lasting memory that would be difficult to forget.
I woke up, tired after a few hours of restless sleep, but went about my morning as I usually did; my regular workout, a shower, some breakfast. Then I found myself sitting in the large kitchen, staring at the luxurious interior, wishing for the lived-in feeling of Edward's kitchen; a bit shabby, but absolutely packed with wonderful memories. I sat there for quite some time, until I was interrupted by my phone signaling that it was time to go beautify myself, reminding me that it was Thursday.
As I was met by a first smiling, then worried-looking Gabriella, I thought that perhaps it would have been better if I had cancelled all of my appointments, and I almost turned and walked out of there. Gabriella quickly grabbed my hand, pulled me into her room, and then started scanning me for injuries.
"What has he done?" she asked angrily "You look like a ghost!"
"He hasn't done anything," I answered slowly "I haven't been able to sleep, that's all."
Gabriella walked away to the far corner where she proceeded in waving her hands around and swearing, in several different languages. It took her a while to work all of that anger out of her system, but she came back, a decided look on her face.
"You need to get away, now! Please, please let me help you get away!" she said, begging me to listen.
I shook my head and looked down at the floor, not wanting to see the pain in her eyes.
"You poor, stubborn woman!" she said, and guided me to the chair.
It seemed that her hands were even softer and gentler that day, as if she was trying to take all of my pain and all of my worries away. She brushed my hair back from my face and let her hands linger on the top of my head, as if trying to push some sense in there, or perhaps it was just love? She cleaned and massaged my face, using long, slow strokes, as if trying to smooth away all my troubles. And when she sent me off to my class, she hugged me close and kissed my cheek before turning away quickly to hide the tears that I still managed to see.
I went to class, but didn't look up at Josh or shake his hand as I entered. I tried to participate as much as possible, but a breathing exercise where you were supposed to find your "happy place" and from that place try to face your fears, felt hilariously unfitting. I looked up quickly at the end of class and saw Josh throwing questioning looks my way, but I didn't want to face another worried person and more questions, so I walked out of there as quickly as possible.
I heard him call out to me, but just kept walking, hoping he would be stopped by one or more of the women in my class, since they usually stayed to ask him a lot of follow-up questions. I made it out of the building before I heard Josh calling my name again and felt his gentle hand on my shoulder. I spent half a second on the surprised thought that his soft touch didn't scare me before I turned around to face him.
"I just wanted to make sure that you were all right?" he said with that same magically soothing voice that had me thinking about him again and again, was it only a few days ago?
"I'm fine," I answered "I'm just a bit tired."
"Please let me know if I can help you in any way!" he said before he pushed my hair back from my face and let his hand linger for a short moment on my cheek. He leaned in, seemingly intent on pressing a kiss to my other cheek, when he was interrupted by an angry bark.
I turned around quickly and saw Alfred running up to us with wild eyes, growling and barking. Josh took several steps backwards and Alfred pushed himself between us and continued to bark at my very surprised-looking teacher. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him not carrying his signature smile.
