He closes the distance between us, pushing his face in close.
I don’t retreat. I won’t. After everything I’ve been through in this last year, he is nothing to me. His attempts to scare me are nakedly obvious as the pathetic graspings that they are. He was so damn used to having someone who would do anything he told him, but that girl is long gone now.
“You have no idea what you gave up when you left me, Lila,” he warns me, unblinking, eyes nearly as black as a shark’s. “When you ran away, I was willing to give you space to figure yourself out. But you…” He shakes his head slightly.
“You ran off and got yourself pregnant like some little whore,” he spits. “You made your choice. And I’m not going to forget it. You understand?”
“Ihavemade my choice, Thom, don’t you see that?” I reply, despairing. “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t know what it’s going to take to get that through your head, but?—”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his fist clenching. I flinch on instinct, though I know he would never be stupid enough to take a swing at me somewhere so public.
“But if you haven’t gotten it by now, I don’t know what the hell it’s going to take,” I retort. “Stay away from me. We’re done. We’ve been done for a long time. And if you ever come anywhere near my children or me again…”
I trail off. I want to hit him with some hard truth, something he won’t be able to ignore, but it’s not like I have anything or anyone I can call on. He knows it too. I’m certain it’s one of the reasons he chose me as the victim of his abuse, because he could seal me off from the rest of the world, exactly how he wanted.
I push the stroller out of the park, blood rushing through my veins, and don’t look back. I pray to God he isn’t following me. If I just keep walking, if I just keep my legs moving beneath me, then I’ll be okay.
I don’t know how long I keep going without looking back—shit, I probably skipped a few stoplights and pulled off some Olympic-tier jaywalking in the process. Before I know it, I’m standing outside my apartment building, hands damp with sweat, chest rising and falling as I try to bring myself back down to earth again.
I check the twins. They seem okay, Ross having fallen asleep, Matty dozy with heavy eyes. Glancing behind me, I make sure that he hasn’t followed me, but there’s no sign of him.
Thank God.If I can just get inside…
Stumbling into the elevator, I jab at the buttons until I hit the right one and we’re swept upstairs. I grasp the key in my pocket so tightly that I can feel the metal digging into my skin, but I don’t care. I feel as though I’m looking down at my body from above, so distant from it I might as well be someone else entirely.
I just about manage to make it through the door before the tears finally come. Sinking down, I lean back against it to make sure it’s shut, and feel the wetness pour down my face. I grip the edge of the stroller, burying my head in between the twins, just trying to ground myself as I feel his fingers against my skin over and over again. The memory of his touch is sickening, like a brand on me I wish I could paint over. Heck, I had convinced myself till now that I might have actually done it, escaped him, but now I can see I’ve only been fooling myself.
It strikes me that he might have followed me home, but then I remember that he already knows where we live as it is. I know those notes that have been left under the door are from him, no matter what the cops say.
Shit, the cops.I should have taken a video, something to prove he was actually there. It’s not like there’s CCTV I can pull from a damn park.
I realize that I’m barely gulping down breath. I need someone else here; I can’t take care of the twins when I’m in this state. I’m a liability. I grope for my phone in my pocket, scrolling to find Sofia’s number, but then it hits me—she’s still out of town.
I slump down onto the floor, feeling useless, helpless.
But then I remember what Martin said to me. To call him if there was anything at all I needed. He came at short notice before, I mean—it would be worth a try, right? I have no idea what I’m going to tell him when he gets here, but I need someone to watch the twins while I get myself together. I hover my finger over his number and then, seeing no other choice, I tap it to make the call.
I put it on speakerphone in front of me, pressing my head into the carpet as I wait to hear his voice. For about thirty seconds, there’s no answer, but then he picks up.
“Hi, Lila?—”
“Martin?”
“What’s wrong?”
His voice is full of concern, even a word from me enough to tip him off that things aren’t as they should be.
“Can you…can you come over?”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Did something happen to you or the twins? Are you okay?”
I can already hear him moving at the other end of the line, like he’s picking up his stuff to come down here at once. A fresh wave of emotion hits me—I don’t know if I deserve someone who’s willing to drop everything like this to take care of me, when I know that I’m the one with the problem here.
“We’re…we’re okay,” I assure him, as I glance up at Matty and Ross, both of whom have woken up at the sound of his voice. “I just need you. Please.”
