I laugh and turn to face her beautiful, smirking face.
She adds, “You are a bloody vision. I’m thinking definitely hair down, a smokey eye and a red lip will just be the cherry on top of an already decadent cake.”
“Now I’m just hungry.”
Anna snorts and tilts her head to the side, eyeing me speculatively. “How come you didn’t raid your own wardrobe? You have way more gowns than me, literally made for you by high-end designers.”
Anna’s never questioned why I borrow her clothes every time we go out. She’s right. I have an entire section of my wardrobe at our house dedicated to gowns I wore to Daniel’s award nights, club functions, and, of course, the Brownlow Medal night. What Anna doesn’t know is that I’m too scared to return to my house with Daniel. The dressing room that houses those gowns is the same room I was raped in. I could never step foot back inside that house, and I’m not entirely convinced Daniel would let me walk back out again if I did.
I avert my eyes as I slide off the dress and pull my own clothes back on. “Those clothes aren’t me. Daniel chose them all, and as beautiful as they are, they just remind me of him.”
I gave her a milder truth that I could stomach sharing. It’s not that I don’t trust Anna enough with the knowledge of the full depravity of my marriage, I just don’t think I could handle the overwhelming support my best friend would insist on offering if she knew. Anna’s smart. She knows it wasn’t all that I portrayed it to be, but if sheknewshe would probably never let me out of her sight again. I’m finally moving on from the past. I don’t want healing wounds reopened.
“He chose your clothes?” She eyes me cautiously, like she knows she’s heading down a rocky path.
“Yeah. He was a bit controlling like that.” I put the other dresses back on the hangers. “He controlled a lot of things when it came to me.”
“I suspected as much,” Anna continues tentatively, slowly rocking the glass between her hands. “What else did he control?”
Picking up my wine-glass, I perch on the corner of Anna’s bed and finally meet her concerned eyes. “Apart from what I wore?” I sigh. “What I spent my days doing, or more specifically, what I wasn’t allowed to do. What money I spent. Who I spoke to or spent my time with.”
Looking down at my wine-glass, I run my fingertip around the edge. My cheeks heat with shame. “He expressed hisdistastewhen I mentioned I wanted to catch up with you. He would give me the silent treatment for days if I even spoke your name. Then he would accept invitations on my behalf for coffee dates or lunches with other footballer’s partners. As long as they were the ‘wholesome, loyal’ partners and not the ‘slutty attention-grabbers’, as he used to call them. I think he knew that you wouldn’t condone the way he was treating me, and he didn’t want you to influence me to leave him.”
Anna doesn’t answer and nervously I raise my eyes to hers, not knowing what I’ll find in them. Ishouldfind anger and righteousness. Probably even disgust. Instead, I see understanding and forgiveness as she reaches her hand out and rests it on my bent knee.
“He’s a fucking monster, G. I knew there was more going on, but I couldn’t get to you to ask you about it. You were always so protective of him.”
She doesn’t sound accusing in the slightest, and her compassion makes the back of my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“He was really good at making me feel like ours was a normal relationship, and he gaslighted me so badly I didn’t even realise I was being controlled so thoroughly. Sure, I would get frustrated that I couldn’t see you, but even then he never outrightsaidI couldn’t, he would just make me feel so bad like I was somehow betraying him by doing so. I was just so pathetic.”
“Hey!” Anna says firmly as she grips my knee tighter. “Don’t talk about my best friend like that. You are the least pathetic person I’ve ever met. Not only were youabusedby a fucking psychopath,but you pulled yourself out. You’re the bravest, most resilient person I know. He targeted you when you were vulnerable and he took advantage of you for too long. I’m the pathetic one, I’m the one who should be ashamed,” her voice wobbles. I’ve never heard Anna’s voice wobble before. “I knew something wasn’t right and I didn’t do enough to help you.”
I grasp her hand, which is still on my knee. “No, Anna, no. I didn’t want to be helped. I thought I was happy, and that Daniel’s protectiveness was just a sign of how much he loved me.”
I spit the last words from my mouth, anger rising like anactive volcano in my chest. “The kicker is that deep down I knew it wasn’t right, I must have, because I never told you or my family the extent of how much Daniel was controlling me. I hid it so well that even my own mother wants me to go back to him.”
Saying the words out loud stings. Even though I hid the abuse from everyone, Anna knew something wasn’t right. How did my own mother not see it? Was it because she wasn’t iced out of my life like Anna was? Daniel was always the perfect husband to me around my family, but the signs were surely there. Weren’t they? When I think about how much my family loved Daniel until he cheated on me, it makes me question my own relationship. Was it as bad as I now know it was?
Yes, Gianna. Yes, it fucking was. No one should have to live their life like that.
Anna launches forward and wraps her arms around me, some of her wine spilling down my back.
“None of it is your fault. You’re free, and neither of us will ever let it happen again, yeah?”
I squeeze my best friend tighter. “Yeah. I love you, Anna, and I’m so sorry I ever let him come between us.”
“I love you too, G. Let’s not discuss that stain anymore. You have a date to get ready for.”
23
Anna’s just putting the finishing touches on my mascara when Zayn texts to say he’s arrived.
I get butterflies at the sight of his name on my screen. I may have told Anna that tonight isn’t a date, and itisn’t,but try telling my heart that when it takes off at a sprint at the thought of Zayn waiting downstairs for me.
“He’s here, I have to go.”
Anna re-sheathes the mascara wand, then tilts my chin from side to side to inspect her handiwork.
