Sunday, 12:12am
Unknown:Yes. It was very unpleasant. Let me know when she wakes up.
Unknown:Please.
As soon as she opened her eyes five hours later, I sent a text to that unknown number, letting Clint know she was awake. She was groggy, looking like she was having a harder time coming around than I would expect, all while she was poked and prodded again. Rechecks, wanting to cover all bases, etc. The usual variety of excuses. I was busy checking on her while they took their samples. The vacant look in her eyes had me worried, but when it was just us again, she perked up a tiny bit. Her eyes at least held emotion instead of being empty. When she asked what happened, I filled her in on the insanity that was the night while she was unconscious, laying there like fucking sleeping beauty. By the time I was done, she looked at me like she had questions she wanted to ask, but seemed nervous.
“Ask me. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” I held her hand as tears filled her eyes and she asked a flood of questions. I had to take a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start.
“So, this morning a security company came and added cameras to your place, including a doorbell and outside camera. Emilia was there for that, and for the locksmith. All locks have been changed, including the mailbox lock. The super in the building did that this morning. The night and day doormen have been informed of the situation with Caleb.” Her breath caught, emotions warring for space on her face, her lip trembling. I pressed on.
“Em took the lead in packing. Not your things, though I did pack a bag for your stay here,” I motioned to her duffle in the corner, “She’s been here twice, but going through each room with a fine toothed comb, packing his shit into boxes and leaving them with the doorman. He gave her the trolley from storage to use. The one they got when one of the old hotels shut down.”
“Double-D? The one deep in storage that’s only brought out for deaths and divorces?” She asked, her face a mix of awe and disgust.
“Yeah. She’s been using that, and Frank, the night man, promised that if Caleb shows up on his shift, he doesn’t know where Double-D is. Fred, the day doorman, said he’s going to take a wheel off it and offer it to Caleb,” I tried to finish before bursting out laughing. Those two thought Devin was the nicest tenant, not only because she thanked them every day and asked about their families, but because she cared, and offered an ear or smile when they seemed down.
“So almost all his stuff is out. Em has a pile of things he’s given you that could be considered sentimental. We haven’t boxed those yet, but we can either trash ‘em, give ‘em to him, or put it all in a box in your closet. You’ll have a Caleb box.” She just nodded.
“Caleb box. It hurts too much right now,” her voice came out barely a whisper above the medical equipment. We kept talking, and I hated that she looked even more closed off after giving her information from the lawyer, and her telling me what she saw last night. Her face crumpled with sadness, confusion, and then anger. Lots of anger.
I hated that I was the one who had to tell her. I hated that I wasn’t done with the pain this was going to cause her. I hated that she was going to have to endure more hurt from this asshole and I was the one who had to deliver each blow thus far. It was like I was unwillingly destroying my sister and I knew the next bit was just going to fucking kill her.
“He…ugh, fuck.” I bent my head forward, staring at the floor for half a second before schooling my face and looking back into her eyes, before crushing her with the news.
“I’m so sorry, Devin. Emilia and I both tried to contact him repeatedly. H-he,” Emilia came back from the restroom, grabbing Fia’s other hand, already knowing what I was about to tell her.
“Caleb never tried to contact you. He hasn’t been home since, about, thirty minutes ago. Fred stopped him, indicating his belongings at the front desk in the lobby. Em went there to drop off a few more things we got from the store, but didn’t let him in when he tried to get into the flat.” Devin shook her head next to me, not wanting to believe what I was telling her, but with the doorbell camera footage playing on her own phone, it wasn’t like I was lying. All she had to do was hit play.
Devin watched the encounter, looking numb the whole time, almost hollow as Caleb ambling back to the flat at nine in to morning, hair and clothes disheveled. A hickey visible on his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. It was obvious whathad happened, and it was even more painfully obvious that he thought he’d be able to get away with it.
“You know,” I looked at her, trying to steer the conversation toward a better topic, “A delicious-sounding voice named Clint said he would be coming to see you with his lawyer today as soon as you woke up. Said he wanted to help you get divorced. He called about ten minutes before you woke up to ask how you were faring.” I raised an eyebrow at her, hoping there was something on the horizon to distract her.
I didn’t want this to destroy her. I wanted her to rise from the ashes that she felt her world had been reduced to. She simply nodded, looking out the window, a million miles away, not truly seeing anything.
Chapter Eleven:
Devin’s POV
I could confidently say that I did not remember much, if any, of the last twenty-four hours. It was as if everything was blank from the moment I gave the cabbie my address to the moment I opened my eyes in the hospital bed. I didn’t remember how I got her, but I did remember crying so hard as soon as I got into the elevator that I made myself sick. I was still crying and retching so loud, so viciously that I didn’t even hear Eddie when he came into my apartment. I was emptying my stomach again and again until there was nothing left, and I just felt emotionally and physically exhausted.
I recalled thanking the fucking lord that I had the forethought to give my friends keys so they could let themselves in whenever I couldn’t answer the door. I know Eddie had said something about contacting the lawyer for an eviction, to see if we can change the locks right away. I didn’t expect Caleb’s boss’s lawyer to actually contact us, on a Saturday night, and offer legal advice. Nor did I expect the lawyer and Mr. Westwood to come to the hospital on a Sunday!
The legal fees associated with that kind of a ‘non-office-hours’ visit had to be astronomical! I had no idea what was going on with my life anymore, so I just nodded along to the conversation that was going on around me absentmindedly as the world swayed around me. The phone felt like it weighed two tons, like it was something so dangerous it would explode if I held it wrong. There was a video link that I just had to hit play to watch. A video link with a timestamp that was after I left. After I was told he’d be informed I left ill.
I pressed the button and sounds of my husband grunting, filling another woman, flooded the room, drowning me in anger and hatred for the man who promised me forever. Long after I had listened to that godforsaken video, it played through my mind like a horrible song stuck on repeat. The sun's rays pulled me in, sucking all of the energy from my body, simply exhausting me…
“Whatever,” I muttered under my breath, annoyed at the whole situation I found myself in because the man I was married to had the self restraint of a gnat at a picnic in the middle of July. I needed to leave. I couldn’t forgive this. I knew deep within my soul there was no way that I’d ever be able to forgive or forget what this man had done to me. And I knew for a fact, there was no way there was protection being used last night. I heard him tell her he was nutting inside of her. I knew he was playing a dangerous game of pregnancy roulette.
I wanted absolutely no part of that.
I could feel the world going dull around me, losing its color. I could feel my emotions fading from my soul, my mind trying to numb me to the pain. It was like my body was shutting down anything I did not, without a doubt, need to function in survival mode. I instinctively, on some level, was aware that I was going to be stuck in this dull, emotionless, survival state on a daily basis. I wasn’t sure how long it would last either. I just felt like my body was shutting itself off, one system at a time. I started feeling really cold, shaking under the warmth of my favorite blanket. I remembered looking up at Eddie, feeling so scared because this had never happened before. He looked so calm, slipping into doctor mode as I slipped into the darkness that called me like a long-lost friend.
*****
I don’t know how long I was out of it, but I felt more rested this time. It didn’t feel like there was this weight resting on my chest, doing everything to crush me. When I started to come out of it, I could hear more than anything. I heard mumbling and muffled voices as I stretched, taking stock of how much more solid I felt. I felt sore, but in the way you feel after an intense workout. It was like I had used muscles I hadn’t before.
Bruised, beaten, but I knew I’d survive this. I could hear a distant, and consistent, beeping. I stretched my body, cracking open my eyes just a hair, trying to gauge the brightness and the severity in how sore my eyes would be. They felt like sandpaper before, so I was hopeful it wouldn’t be that bad this time.
