I gave birth in a blur.
I spent a year of life in a sleep deprived fog tied in with a whole bunch of grief with all the emotions alongside it. Brett was always stopping by or calling just to check in. At the hardest of days, he would pop up. Friendship blossomed as best as anyone can under a cloud of loss.
As the day-to-day struggles seemed to clear I knew I had to leave the small two-bedroom home we had shared with Jonah. The memories suffocated me. The plans and dreams that were no longer even something to hope for consumed my thoughts. It wasn’t healthy. I knew then it was time to move.
Finally, Justice was on a schedule of sorts and my hormones seemed to level out where I wasn’t drowning in post-partum blues. That is when I put the offer in on this new construction home. It was everything Jonah and I dreamed of having together. Even if I never have the other children to fill these rooms, I am giving Justice the space his father always wanted him to have. After closing, I knew I wanted a fence first.
I needed a fence for privacy when Justice played in the backyard. Brett gave me the most reasonable bid compared to many others who it felt like they saw a single mom to screw over. His career in the Army ended due the traumatic brain injury he endured in the ambush, but he says he can’t simply sit at home. The same time I needed a fence; he started a fence company. Do I find that convenient now? Yes, but then, I didn’t see things clearly.
While most days he is okay, there are side effects to his cognizance, his motor skills aren’t precise, and the night terrors are a struggle as they pop up pretty regularly. Not wanting to sit at home waiting for the next checkup, he started a fencing company, that is what he claims even now. I was one of his first clients. Weeks passed and the fence turned out beautiful. It wasn’t until months later when the house next door was built, and they hired him to do their fence that he asked me out as an actual date. Not something to do for my son or in remembrance of my dead husband, he wanted to get to know me.
It was awkward.
I think he knew I wasn’t in a place to even be myself. He asked me to be friends. He took time to get to know me with zero romantic pressure. Days passed into weeks into months and suddenly Justice has his second birthday. Brett shows up building a full-on balloon arch, buys a blow-up water slide, and proceeds to give my son the most amazing day. I don’t know the exact moment things went from friends to more than, but they did. Just like grieving my dead husband was a blur, my romance with Brett is too.
That is why I know it is over without any doubts.
I don’t remember the good times anymore. When I think of the scales and how they tip … the good no longer outweighs the bad. His love and adoration to my son doesn’t give him a free pass to hurt me.
The first times he called me names or shook me around; I explained it away. Isn’t that what people do for someone they think they love? He always apologized. At first, they felt sincere, but in reality, they were mere words. I hoped the chaos inside him would calm. I could be strong while he was weak. He would see I was a safe space and this would improve. When nothing seemed to help or change, I began to explain it to myself. He has a brain injury. It is actually very easy in my mind to justify everything he did to me. Even now, I have to tell myself there is no brain injury that makes it okay to literally choke me to the point of passing out.
Leaving didn’t simply make him stop. His torment continues the more he keeps trying to have me back.
If only he would let go.
He can live whatever life he wants.
Without me and without my son.
Why can’t he let us go?
“Josie, I need to see you. We need to talk.”
No, we don’t. I have told him this repeatedly. The thing about Brett, no matter what, if I’m not telling him what he wants to hear, then he ignores it. “Sara is coming, I need to go. She needs to do my employee review.” I lie, no one is coming, and I don’t even know if Sara will come to this office today.
Sara is my boss. She handles all of the Sandhills and Coastal regions of North Carolina Agriculture. She does live in Sampson County; therefore, she frequents our office more than the others. However, her job requires her to travel. While Brett has met her, they aren’t in the same circles. He won’t question her about me. More than anything, this may give me the escape of this conversation. I know Brett and he will continue to push me to see him and frankly, that isn’t going to happen no matter how much he wants it. I made a promise to myself, on my son, he would never have another opportunity to put his hands on me again. It’s one promise to myself I refuse to break. There isn’t a doubt in my mind, if he gets the opportunity to kill me, he will.
Then where does that leave Justice?
“Funny you say that. Her car isn’t here, Puppet.”
I fight to swallow the lump of fear lodged in my throat. He’s here. He’s watching me. “Brett, you can’t be here.” I hate the tremble in my voice.
“Public building, Josie,” he replies before suddenly the line goes dead.
I look to the ceiling praying my tears won’t fall today. Once again, the safety of my office is ripped from me just like he’s taken the security of me being in my home. How can I get through to this man, we aren’t getting back together.
Ever.
Three
Raff
California Sober – Post Malone and Chris Stapleton
* * *
“Needed me some diesel,” I sing along with the music playing from the speaker mounted in the corner of my garage. Making my way to the back of the Chevy truck sitting in my driveway, I resume my attempt to remove the latch. Fucking piece of shit tailgate latch broke.
