I rose, extending my hand out, and he took it in a warm, but firm shake.
“Merry Christmas, Sam. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
I won’t be back.
It was time to look for someone else. A therapist who didn’t act present, but was there the whole time and gave me proper advice to get through this. I’d mentioned Lucy more times than I could count. He just refused to listen. I was nothing more than another person to be billed.
I smiled, throwing my jacket over my shoulders, and headed out the door. The chilled afternoon air caressed me as I exited the office. My car was only a short distance away, and I was in it in under a minute. The insistent ding of my phone lit up the Bluetooth once I got into the car and turned it back on.
There were a few missed calls from Lucy, and I tried to call back, but it went straight to voicemail.
Shit.
“Are you okay?”
Lucy
I should have said yes.
What’s wrong?
Lucy
He won’t let me leave.
I’m scared.
Where are you?
Lucy:
Hiding in the walk-in
He’s trying to get in. I never told anyone…
My chest tightened.
Everyone knew, Lucy.
After a few shaky breaths, I replied, my hand flexing, itching to get to her before he did something stupid. Then, I’d have to do something I’d regret.
Not really. In theory.
On my way
Hang tight and call 911.
The car was slow to accelerate, and I needed to get there now. I was only one man, but I’d get on my knees and crawl over hot coals if it meant protecting her. I wouldn’t fail anyone I cared about ever again.
Chapter 15
LUCY
The insistent pounding made my temples throb, and I covered my ears with my hands, trying to drown out the harsh words. I couldn’t believe I was willing to marry this man and forget all the times like these for a shiny, fake piece of metal around my finger.
Tears ran down my face in a waterfall, the dark mascara staining the top of my turtleneck as I tried to calm down and find a way out. The pounding never stopped, the horrible words, and the alcohol on his breath. To drown it all out, I started humming to myself, a song that my mother used to sing for me.
Every Christmas Eve, she would sing ‘O Holy Night’ to calm me down when I was too excited for Santa to come. The dark corner of the closet was my haven, and lines of clothes shielded me as I curled up in a fetal position, singing softly to myself.
