Disclaimer: No way am I lucky enough to own the Twilight series or any of its characters. They all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 7: Little Victories

Columbus Ohio, 1917

One month, three weeks, and four days had passed since my wedding day. One month, three weeks, and four days of marriage to Charles Evenson had changed me into a woman I barely recognized. Each morning I would wake to a body that ached with old bruises and new blows. My face, which had once been filled with light and laughter, was drawn tight into a mask to hide the sadness of a dutiful wife.

No effort I made was ever good enough. The food I cooked was hardly ever to his liking, which meant a beating that I was soon used to. Even worse was when he was satisfied with my performance in cleaning his house or cooking his food; I had realized early on that nothing was my own anymore. Whenever my "pitiful attempts," as he called them, were worthy of his praise I knew to be prepared for a night filled with absolutely shaming experiences.

But I was utterly trapped by this clever man I was forced to call 'husband' because he knew better than to disrespect me in any public place. The one time I had tried to bait him into a public fight had been both a mistake and a victory.

The dinner party we had been invited to was at the house of one of Charles business associates. I had been told, by Charles, to behave and keep my mouth shut; something in his condescending tone had incensed me to the point of rage. Did I ever complain or cry out during my many underserved beatings? Did I ever speak of my husband's horrible and violent temper? Of course I didn't. The least he could do was depend on me to suffer in silence without insulting my dignity even further.

"Get down here woman! I do not want to be late!" Charles bellowed from the foot of the stairs.

I took one last look at the woman in the mirror and smoothed my skirt with my hands before taking to the stairs. I spoke calmly to Charles as I descended, pitying this overgrown man-child and his inability to contain his temper.

"No need for worry Charles, we will be on time."

His coarse response was something I expected, "I want to be early you stupid frivolous woman. This is important. Do you understand what that word means Esme?"

"Or course I do Charles," I replied exasperated, my tone laced with disrespect, "Let's go before I waste any more of your time."

Whether he decided to ignore my disrespect or merely didn't recognize my tone in his rush to get out of the house, it did not matter as he bustled me out to the car. Neither of us spoke on the way to the dinner party. I could tell that Charles was trying to cool down into his public persona of the town charmer and I was not particularly interested in drawing his attention while we were still alone.

But perhaps I could draw his annoyance out in public! The idea hit me with a staggering force as ideas began running through my head. Could I irritate him with constant chatter? No, he wouldn't care. I would be expected to speak and be charming with everyone. But what if I was totally silent? Perfect. He had told me to 'keep my mouth shut,' hadn't he? After all if he was going to treat me like a child in need of a beating I should at least deserve it.

The minute I had resolved to impolite silence I felt instantly better than I had in days. While my actions would be unkind to the other dinner guests, something I did regret, it would be best in the long view. They needed to know what he was truly like. They needed to see his volatile nature for themselves and Charles needed help. He needed to be exposed almost as much as I needed this.

I was impatient to get to the party so I could begin my plan and thankfully the drive was short. I stood dutifully behind Charles, my eyes downcast, as he knocked on the door of a house that looked to be twice the size of ours, which was sizable. Unable to hold back my glee, I grinned. This was the perfect time and place to test Charles' well built façade.

"Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Evenson," The woman who answered the door spoke warmly, "Please come inside."

"Thank you Mrs. Tyler." Charles responded, his polite tone ringing false in my ears.

"Let me take your coats," Mrs. Tyler continued, "I will just put them away for you and please feel free to join the other guests."

My husband ducked his head in his impersonation of a gentleman and thanked the lady before steering me into the next room. It was the time just before dinner and the many guests were mingling and chatting casually as they waited to be called into the dining room.

"Remember Esme. Try not to make a fool of yourself." Charles hissed in my ear as he strode over to our host in hopes of striking up a conversation.

"Hello there Charles," Mr. Tyler said jubilantly, his demeanor open and friendly, "How's things old chap, eh?"

"Splendid, absolutely top notch." Charles responded in such a way as if he were looking for approval. This was clearly the time to act.

"And this must be your pretty little lady!" Mr. Tyler said with a quiver of delight in his voice, "Would you be so kind as to introduce me Charlie?"

Charles grit his teeth at the use of a nickname, something he told me he hated. This was going better than I expected if he was already irritated.

"Esme, this is my business associate Mr. Tyler," Charles began, the veins in his neck beginning to protrude, "Mr. Tyler, may I present my wife, Mrs. Esme Evenson."

"Oh Charlie don't be such a stick in the mud! Ms. Esme please call me Peter. Is it alright if I call you Ms. Esme?" Mr. Tyler requested affably; I almost hated to be rude to him.

My silence made the moment awkward and Charles was getting more visibly upset with each second.

"Esme," Charles began, anger clear in his voice, "Answer the question."

Unable to hold out any longer, I spoke the words that would irritate my husband most.

"But I thought you bid me to be silent. I didn't wish to make a fool of myself," my voice even and polite as I repeated Charles instructions back to him, "But now that I have permission to speak I would like to say that it is lovely to make your acquaintance Peter and it would be charming if you called me Esme."

I flashed a brilliant smile in Peter's rather stunned direction before my husband's anger broke.

You'll have to excuse my wife, Mr. Tyler," Charles said venomously, "She must be unwell."

I turned to Charles with an innocent expression on my face as I spoke again, "I feel just fine Charles. I cannot imagine what you are talking about. Perhaps you feel a little ill?"

For a glorious moment I thought he would hit me in front of all these witnesses but the second passed. Before I knew it I was being roughly towed outside and then practically thrown into the car. I had succeeded at least in making a fool out him and that was enough for me.

He said nothing until we were 'safely' inside the confines of our own home.

"How in the hell could you do that to me you rotten little bitch!"

"I was only doing as I was told Charles." I replied, the edge to my voice was unmistakable.

No coherent words would come from his mouth for the rest of the night as he beat me nearly insensible. But it was worth it just to see him fal—

I was pulled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. Startled, I moved to answer it in as much haste as possible.

"Mrs. Evenson?" asked the young man who worked at the post office in town.

"Yes?" I replied questioningly, "What can I do for you today?"

"I just have a letter here for Mr. Evenson and I was supposed to deliver it into somebody's hands. Mr. Jones sent me down here 'specially." The young boy rattled back.

"Well then I shall take that so you can say it was delivered." I replied as I took a nickel from my pocket, "And you may have this nickel as my way of saying thank you."

"Thank you Mrs. Evenson!" The boy exclaimed thankfully as he took his prize and sped off down the lane towards town.

I chuckled as I shut the door; glad to find a moment of kindness in my shattered little world. Unthinking, I opened the letter even though it was clearly not addressed to me. I would be punished for it later but I would have been punished anyway so it made little difference. My eyes scanned the letter quickly and then I froze. I read the contents again, trying to see if I had misunderstood. I hadn't. I was there in black and white. My husband had been drafted to serve in the war. And for the first time in one month, three weeks and four days I felt free.

AN: Well that's one more chapter down and God knows how many to go. I'm just sort of writing this on the fly so the muses will dictate my pace and length. I would like to thank all those reading and especially bellaplusedward620 for reviewing. The more you guys let me know what you think the better this will become. So if it's all trash then, with help, I can hopefully move up to decent and if it's good so far I can hopefully move up to great! See you all next chapter (which should be a bit lighter because I can only handle so much depressing stuff before I crack).