And now for the complete chapter! I'm posting tonight because I'm not sure when I'll have access to the internet again - so if I don't post next Monday, forgive me.


It was two months later when her phone rang and she answered it, unthinkingly.

"Jules," came the familiar voice, full of nervous tension, "Wait – please don't hang up. Just hear me out. I've been in counseling. I'm talking to a therapist, and I'm better now. I promise. And I'll keep getting help, but please, give me another chance. I've done all this for you, Jules, and I'm better now. I know how to control my anger – how to express it without using my fists. I really do. And I'll keep going to therapy, all my life, if I have to, to make sure that I won't hurt anyone again. Please, Jules. I love you. I've always loved you. And I just want to be with you. Please, Jules. I need you."

She felt her throat constrict. Tears filled her eyes – she wasn't sure if they were tears of sorrow or joy.

"Scott, you really hurt me. I don't want to be one of those women who have to hide their bruises every day."

"You won't. I promise. Please, Jules. I just need another chance. I'll be better – you'll see. I swear, it'll be so much better this time."

She wasn't sure why her mouth opened in agreement – maybe it was because she missed the feeling of a warm body lying next to her, or maybe she wanted to believe that Scott really was better, and that she was his first choice – the only one he wanted to be with. As corny as it sounded, and as much as she knew it was a practiced line from abusive husbands, she let herself believe it. Because it felt nice, and Scott wasn't the type of person who said things like that on a whim. You also thought he wasn't the type of person to hit you, and look where you ended up!

The fact that the bruises had long since healed, and the pain was but a distant memory probably helped too – she had already decided that she hadn't been hurt nearly bad enough to warrant being absolutely horrified of him. I've hit people before, she thought, when I was mad at them. The only difference is that he happens to be a guy, who's a helluva lot bigger than me. But that doesn't matter. I shoved him first, last time. It was a physical fight, like between two guys. It wasn't abuse. I stopped fighting back, I could have kept kicking him. I'm just making this into something it's not, and that's a waste of time. Why not just be happy with him?


Review!