Someone only has the power to control you if you let them…
Chapter 8
Seven years ago
…
Going through painful memories is the hardest thing you can ever do on your own, especially when they feel like an attack instead of snapshots from your life.
I admit to have regrets but nothing compares with the burden of ever having told Quinn that I forgave her for that slap six months ago.
I was living a nightmare and I wasn't waking up any time soon.
She was angry, hurt and completely out of control. I hadn't seen my dads in a couple of months claiming that I've been busy, that I already had plans with my wife, that the twins were sick and I needed to stay home but everything always went down to the fact that I didn't want them to see me because I was pretty sure that they wouldn't have recognized me. I couldn't even recognize myself.
The last time I saw Santana or Jessica was the day before Quinn confronted me about Santana. I thought she meant it, when she apologized but that had been six months ago and I was currently lying on the floor, my body felt heavy and the smell of blood was so vivid that I knew I was going to be sick.
My eyelids felt extremely dense, I had to try a couple of times before I was able to realize that I was in the hallway just outside our bedroom. My lips felt raw and I dreaded to have to look in the mirror but eventually I had to stand up, wincing all the way and relying on the wall to not fall back on the floor. My white pajama top was splashed with blood, my hair was sticking to my face and shoulders from where it had gotten wet from the red liquid and my wrists were painted in horrible shades of green, purple and red.
I remembered her dragging me outside by pulling my hair and throwing me against the wall where I finally lost balance and fell to the floor where she had her fun by kicking me until I passed out, I guess; I couldn't remember anything else anyway.
I felt devastated, angry with myself for not having the strength to defend fight back and scared out of my mind because my children had been sleeping just one door away.
I didn't know what to do, how to react, where to go, who to talk to. My dads were out of the question because I didn't want them getting involved into something that they didn't need to know, it would have only broken their hearts to the point of no repair. Santana would most likely have killed Quinn before she even cleared her head to think straight, so I couldn't tell her either.
I was alone, no one could help me.
I threw the top into the garbage can and got into the shower where the scolding water did little to take away the shame that was covering me whole.
I couldn't believe that she could do something as vicious as hitting me and then leaving me unconscious in the middle of our hallway. I couldn't understand how she could be so evil with me and a completely different person with our kids minutes later.
I still had faith in her though and that faith wasn't going anywhere. It didn't help that every night she still held me as if I were the most important thing in her life or that she always woke me up with a kiss on my cheek and murmured a soft good morning in my ear before we started our routines.
I knew she was still in there, I knew she was blinded by rage that in a way had nothing to do with me. What I didn't know was how to help myself or what to do when she exploded.
I was tired of crying but too afraid to ask for help even though I knew very well that we needed it.
Laughter from the boys' room caught my attention and I was reminded of why I was still with Quinn, waiting until she realized that we could have overcome anything.
Samuel was standing in his crib, holding onto the rails for support and mumbling something away as Gabe sat in the middle of his own crib with Teddy in his lap and listening to his brother carefully.
"Ma!" Gabe raised his Teddy bear at my direction and Sam started to jump in his place. For one year olds they were incredibly perceptive and knew exactly when I needed them to be quiet and calm which was exactly the case that morning.
As I changed my boys out from their pajamas the image of Quinn and her bloody knuckles didn't leave my mind and every time I closed my eyes I could see her fist coming to my face. The image never left my mind and it actually became a constant flashback that would hit me at the least expected moments.
Gabriel had a perfect replica of Quinn's hazel eyes, although his stare was always softer, warmer, it reminded me of the girl I loved back in high school; Samuel's eyes were a bit darker, although green as well and he was always more hyperactive than Gabriel.
They were learning how to walk and often fell backwards on their bottoms as I cleaned the house that we had bought by the time they turned eight months old. Looking at them I knew that if anything could help Quinn with her issues and give me the necessary strength to stay was them. The two little boys that Quinn and I had made together.
…
There is always a realizing point for each person when they know that faith is not all they need to get going. For soccer players is when they hit a certain age and they know their careers are over, that they have to look for alternatives; for a student is the slow motion sound of a teacher's voice telling them that that was their last chance and for every business women and men out there is the cold like shower they get when their accountants tell them that they are bankrupt.
My cold shower realization came one night.
It was two in the morning and like every other wife I was concerned about my wife's whereabouts. She never missed dinner and that night she didn't come home. As the time went by I realized that dinner was a silent ritual that she never wanted to miss and that night she wasn't home, her phone was off and I didn't have anyone to call.
I knew I shouldn't care, that's what everyone would have told me but she was my wife and I just wanted her home for the night.
When the car tires scraped the floor outside the front door I knew she had been drinking and for a very brief moment I wanted to lock myself in our boys' bedroom and leave her to manage on her own, but I knew better.
She wasn't a drunkard, she often didn't need the bust of alcohol to do as she pleased but when she drank it was nothing but torture.
I was shaking even before she opened the door with her keys and then threw away her jacket and belongings to the couch. She looked at me and pursed her lips before passing by me and into the kitchen.
"Where were you?" I asked and waited until she drank a second glass of water before she turned to face me.
"Out"
"Did you eat anything?"
"A couple of things you wouldn't like to know" she smirked and sat down on the table. I tried my best to ignore the sudden dagger that pocked at my heart but it was difficult.
"I saved your dinner"
"Not hungry" she dismissed me and looked away towards the pictures lining the wall on the corridor. There was one picture of our wedding, my dad and her mother as well and even Santana was beside my daddy. Quinn's eyes were locked on that picture.
"Do you ever think about high school?" she wasn't looking at me when she asked the question.
"Of course"
"If you could change something, anything from back then, what would you change?"
She stretched her arms on the wooden table and looked at me with glassy and curious eyes. "I would have dressed differently"
"I liked you clothes" she smiled and took a deep breath. "I would change a lot of things"
I knew that for whatever reason she felt like talking, which hadn't happened in so long to the point where I was missing her when she slept by my side every night, so I asked.
"Like what?"
"Like, I would have broken up with Liz before things got so complicated. Before she had the chance to discover so much, but she was just so nosy. I would have thrown my father out of our house before he sent my mom to the hospital that night. I would have spent more time with Charlotte and I wouldn't have been such a dick with all the losers in there either, y'know?"
She never spoke about her father in that way, she never mentioned him or what he did. I was curious and wanted to know more.
"Did you throw him out?" I tentatively asked and she met my eyes.
"When I was sixteen I was no longer weak or short. I grew up faster than he anticipated. It was cool the way one morning I woke up an inch taller than him, my arms no longer thin and weak looking. That night in the hospital, when they said my mom had internal bleeding and two of her ribs broken, I punched him in the nose so hard and he bleed almost immediately that I didn't stop. It felt so good to hit him and I didn't stop until some lame ass guard took me away and dear old Russell was taken to the emergency room. He went to jail after that and the guard didn't mention that I had hit him to the cops."
The air left my body so quickly that I almost passed out for lack of it but she didn't seem the least affected by the memory, she seemed to hold onto it with passion. She was proud for what she'd done.
"One of the police officers had been a friend of my mom in high school and he took my declaration while Russell was having his eye stitched up"
"And Charlotte?" at the mention of her sister, Quinn sat up and looked down to the floor. She was out of herself and I knew that she would have never told me any of it if she had been sober.
"She was in the hospital too. Russell smacked her and left her unconscious on the floor before I could get home. They were keeping her until the next day to make sure that she didn't have any concussions but she…"
She started crying, the tears fell effortlessly down her cheeks and she looked physically pained.
"She hated me" she swallowed and looked back up, "it wasn't my fault that Russell always hit her and not me. I hated him just as much but the fucking bastard didn't hate me back!"
Her voice echoed around the first floor and I was glad that the twins' room was upstairs. I started shaking immediately but she didn't even stand up, she just sat staring at me and bailing her hands into tight fists.
"I never wanted to be like him"
"You're not"
She ran to my side, so fast that for a moment I expected the slap but it never came and when I opened my eyes I found her kneeling of my feet. I was out of breath.
"Things shouldn't be this way. Rachel, please. Don't let me become my father, you have to help me, please"
My heart broke at the sight of her. She wasn't mean, she wasn't evil, she was sick but I didn't see it that way and I should have.
"What do I need to do?"
"You need to go, leave. Leave me, leave me alone. I deserve to be alone; don't let me do this to you."
There, that was my moment. That was the moment where I should have taken her advice, take my children and leave. Tell my dads what happened and let them protect me, she gave me that chance. She was drunk and she wasn't going to remember anything in the morning but she gave me the opportunity and I should have taken it.
But I didn't and I ended up doing something so much worse. "I have faith in you" I said and kissed her salty lips.
"You shouldn't"
"I love you"
"And I love you but this is not me and you should go. Sometimes I don't feel like myself. I don't know if I'm real or not and I'm scared for the things that I think I'm able to do to you and you shouldn't be here when I lose control"
"You haven't?" my own voice chocked out the question and I for a moment pure fear enveloped me whole. If she hasn't lost control then what has been happening.
She shook her head fast. "Of course not."
She was falling sleep, her head kept losing balance, her eyes looked heavier than before and I still couldn't take the opportunity she was giving me, "will you try?"
"Try what?"
"To change"
"I'm not the whore that slept with my wife's best friend, y'know? If anyone deserves a few punches around here that's you, not me."
Then it occurred to me that she was right. I deserved punishment for what I had done and I didn't have any right to think differently because I have been the one that broke her heart. High school didn't count, now we were adults, we were married and Elizabeth was only a stain of the past.
"I'm sorry"
"You should be!" she screamed and then laughed in my face. "You are a fucking coward but you are my wife, and contrary to your beliefs I do love you and our kids are still the best gift you've given me. If there is a reason why I get out of bed every morning and deal with fucking delinquents daily is because of you and our family. Because I want the best for us, for them"
"Do you remember Jessica?" she suddenly asked and I nodded my answer, she was sat on the floor, her hands back on the carpet holding her weight as she stared at me with an evil smirk on her lips.
"She was the one who told me about you and Santana. She made some comment about how different things would be if you would have stayed with her. The bitch thought I knew about you two, she is the reason why all of this started. It was the night you went into labor and we were out in the balcony having a smoke."
I remembered the night like it was yesterday. The look in Quinn's eyes, the way she pulled away ever since then. It took her six months to confront me about it, six months to explode.
"I'm sorry" I cried out of fear more than anything else.
"She broke up with Santana today. I don't want to take credit here but I might have said something that made her reconsidered her relationship with my dear old best friend" just the way she spoke the words sent a shiver down my back, "it was hilarious. The look on your lover's face when fire-crotch dumped her after a meeting in the afternoon"
"You did what?" but she was laughing.
"It was hilarious, really. You should have seen it and well, at least I won't have to see her ugly face around the office anymore and I already have a new secretary in mind anyway"
"Quinn, are you listening to yourself right now?"
"I just told you the story, didn't I?"
"Quinn, this is wrong."
She stood up, gripping the armchairs and snarled in my face so low that I would have rather hear her scream. "I haven't done anything wrong here. I got rid of the fucking idiot that fucked up my marriage before it even began or wait, that wasn't exactly her, was it darling?"
She pulled me to my feet, her fingers digging in my arms as she threw me inside of the living room to the carpeted floor and took out her belt. I knew instantly what she was about to do as she folded the black belt in half and raised her arm.
The sting of the leather in my bare legs was even worse than her slaps but she only got me twice before she fell to her knees and started crying harder than I was. She sobbed, heaved and begged me to forgive her with her arms around my body.
I didn't leave, I didn't deny her when she wanted to make love after, I didn't even have to fake any emotions when she repeated that she loved me, over and over again until we fell asleep in our bed.
…
We were shopping one morning, truly invested in trying for shoes and little ties for the twins, smiles everywhere that should have been telling enough. It was a holyday, the day before July 4th, I remember it was a weekend.
After lunch we went grocery shopping as a last stop before heading home for the day. We were supposed to spend the 4th in Mark's house the next day.
I recognized her immediately. Santana was standing in the butcher section, watching her options and I only looked away from her when Gabriel pulled my sweater from his seat in the shopping cart.
Quinn's eyes were glowing with fury as she lifted Sam in her arms for him to pick the Froot loops and then sat him beside his brother.
"Hey, what a nice surprise!" Santana was only carrying a couple of things in her hands as she approached us.
"I didn't know you shopped here" Quinn tightly said.
"Lighten up Q, is a grocery store. God! They have gotten so big since the last time I saw them!"
She immediately asked if she could pick up Gabe and in seconds Gabriel was hugging her close. She wasn't exaggerating at all. I hadn't seen her in four months by the time we met at the grocery store.
"How you've been?" she asked, her smile as sincere as always, as clueless as well. "I haven't seen you in ages" her hand came to rest on my forearm.
"I've been great, I'm sure Quinn keeps you well informed" I stepped back, the warmth of her palm already being missed as I moved closer to my wife.
I remember thinking how clear the message was being delivered. I was moving away from Santana to go and stand beside Quinn. I was choosing her, like I always have and I wanted my wife to see it.
"She is a pain in the office, Gabriel this and Samuel that" she said with a noisy voice, trying to tease Quinn who blushed a little before shoving Santana playfully and started to push the cart with Santana by her side. It was in that moment that I realized that even though she hated what happened between me and Santana, she had problems with hating Santana herself. She had told me several times in that past how she considered the brunette more than a friend, a sister.
"Don't start and join us for some grocery shopping."
Santana was still a good friend but Quinn didn't see it that way anymore anyway, I didn't blame her; I blamed myself.
It was a nice afternoon, Santana's humor always managed to lighten up whatever mood anyone was in and it wasn't any different with me, us. The twins loved her, of course. She was the cool aunt, even if they didn't see her as much as they were supposed to.
It wasn't until later, when we were eating dinner that I was roughly pulled out of my fantasies.
"Do you remember Liz?" Quinn suddenly asked, the fork only inches away from her lips with a piece of newly cut red meet in it.
"What's her last name?" she chewed and drank from her glass of water before meeting my eyes again.
"Elizabeth Mace?" her eyebrow was raised, a pleased smirk forming on the corner of her lips as my blood ran cold, "remember her?"
Flawless face, brown and blue eyes, long wavy brown hair, cheerleader in High school: Of course I remembered her.
"Your ex-girlfriend, Liz?" I was done eating, the smile on her face making me less than hungry.
"That's the one" she pointed a finger at me while holding the glass of water.
"Why would you ask me that?"
"She's in the city, came by the office looking for a job a few weeks ago. Haven't heard from her since but it was so nice to see her."
It was obvious that there wasn't a good reason for her to be prying information like that and I wanted so desperately to hear more.
"Was it?" I sounded like a crazy jealous wife and I didn't know if that was how I wanted to feel.
Of course whatever I felt quickly vanished when she stood up and paced the dining room with her hands pocket deep into her suit designer pants as she got closer to me.
"I didn't hear that. What did you say?"
"No-nothing" I stuttered as she finally took hold of the armchairs on my sides and spoon me around to face her, a tactic she was a master at.
"Sure, I fucked Liz in the past but you don't see me throwing a jealous fit every time that you see Santana, or do I?"
"N-no but I never dated her"
"Of course you didn't" her knuckles were turning white around the wood as she greeted her teeth at me, "you just opened your legs for her, gave her a pity fuck while I was in the other end of the City."
Her hand was cold as it wrapped around my neck, her fingers dug into my skin as breathing became difficult.
"Was she good?" the good, same old question that always came up when she was feeling especially sentimental.
"You're hurting me"
"But baby, that's the whole propose of this."
I heard the boys laughing and remembered that they were in the living room carpet playing with their toys. She couldn't hurt me when the twins were close, she never had.
"Quinn" I held onto her wrist as she moved us to the kitchen.
"Is she bigger than me? You really like freaks, don't you? What is it about her? Is the cheap latin accent that pushed you to your fours or was it the lame stupid jokes?"
"The boys, Quinn" I cried.
"They're fine" I was pushed against the counter as my boys laughed louder and the sound of their little cars crashing filled my ears. They couldn't see us. They didn't know.
Her kisses weren't rough; her hands still held the same softness as they always did but they did no longer caressed me or waited for long or even approval. My shorts and panties were discarded quickly and her pants pushed down to her knees. It was madness. It was an impulse that pushed her towards this every time Santana came into discussion.
"Do you love me?" she asked in my ear, her hands on my breasts as she squeezed lightly.
"Yes" I breathed out.
"Then why did you let her touch you?"
She pushed away from me, turned me around and bent me over. My cheek was pressed against the cool titles of the island when she pushed inside of me without as much as a hint.
"The kids" I said but I was only trying to stop her. I could still hear them laughing in the living room as the sound of our thighs clapping together mixed with the beautiful sound of their laughter. She never took a few minutes, never let me go without finishing and she never stopped until I was exclaiming my pure pleasure as well.
I could feel her running down my inner thighs as she picked up her pants and tucked herself in.
"Did you enjoy it?" her voice was hoarse as she helped me turn around.
"Yes, only you" I was breathless, my mouth was dry and I started to feel the sweet pain she always left pulsating between my legs.
Her eyes unfocused again. "Did you come with her?"
"Quinn" I pleaded but she pushed me against the wall and punched the counter beside me.
"You are such a whore, Rachel."
I remember the sting in my cheek, falling down and watching the room spin but I don't remember the impact or how I ever got to the couch after.
…
Lessons. You learn in your house, in school, in your jobs, even your friends sometimes help with educating you but you never expect to be seated in front of you wife while she teaches you how to survive.
The boys were spending the weekend with my parents while I gathered a few couple of bruises to hide.
"Please" you also never expect to be crying in front of your wife like a child.
"You see" but she was enjoying it too much, revealing in the power she held over me. "Pleading won't get you anywhere today, love"
"Please, Quinn" I sobbed as she entered the bathroom and came out holding a wet hand towel.
"Come here" she grabbed my wrists and pulled me up from the floor where I had been lying. She picked me up effortlessly, like I weighted nothing. It always surprised me how strong she was, how she had no problem at all to pick me up like a ragdoll and do with me what she pleased.
"Please" she sat me on the edge of our bed, her toned arms and abdomen in view as she wore only her underwear. I was terrified, I didn't recognize her and wanted her gone. I wanted to run.
"I'm just saying, Rachel. These are things that should have come with the wife package, right? I mean, it's not that hard to keep things in the right place and windows clean and stuff. This is your job, I bring the money and you keep this house together, right?"
"Right" I shook, my entire body shook as she cleaned my face with the wet towel.
"So" she left her opened palms fall on my thighs making me jump and caused a few more tears to spill, "what have we learned today?" she smiled widely.
"Clean" I cried, humiliated.
"That's right, what else?"
"Ans-ans-ans-wer"
"Good girl" she cooed me and kissed my chin before lifting it up to wipe my tears with her fingers. "Things could be worse" she said and kissed me softly.
"You're insane" I spitted out but she smiled and kissed me again.
"Don't you just love what you've made of me?" the smile on her lips was terrifying by that point.
"I did-didn't do this you"
"But you did. We were fine until you decided to send everything to hell, remember?" she veered her head to the right and took a deep breath as guilt washed over me completely.
I wasn't good enough for her, therefore I couldn't be enough for anyone and it scared me to death because she was everything I had, the only person that loved me like that. I couldn't lose her.
"But I love you and that's why I'm here with you" she cupped my face and kissed my busted lip.
"I love you too"
"I know, I know."
That night I couldn't sleep which didn't surprise me at all. Sleep wasn't a common occurrence anymore but that night was different because she wasn't in bed with me and her side of the mattress was cold.
I kicked the covers and got out of bed, I heard soft murmuring coming from down the hall and even though red flags were waving all over me, I got closer until I could hear Quinn's side of the conversation in the studio.
"Russell always said this would happen" she cried, her cellphone tightly pressed against her ear.
"But it is true! Can't you see?", "I know, I know. God! I know but I can't stop", "She fucking hates me, how could she not?"; "I'm sorry, I won't curse again. I'm sorry but understand me, please. Tell me what to do"; "And bare my soul out to some stranger? No! I won't do that, I'm not mental!"; "This is not going anywhere. I didn't call you to judge me, damn it! I'm asking for… Fuck!"
She listened to the other end for a while and then threw the phone on the chair behind her desk. I moved away from the door and made my way back to the master bedroom as quietly as I could and got under the covers again.
I laid with my face halfway under the pillow and when she came inside she didn't get in bed right away, instead she watched me sleep. I could feel her eyes on me as I willed myself to keep my breathing even.
"Why do you let me do this?" she whispered before her soft fingers touched my chin, right above a fresh bruise.
She didn't sleep that night and as she held me close to her chest I didn't either. I didn't know who she was talking to but she was obviously talking about us with that person. She never mentioned her mother anything other than how happy we were and she hasn't spoken with Charlotte for years.
The question remained for a long time and when I finally discovered who she was talking to that night it didn't go so well for me.
…
Happy New Year! May 2015 bring greatness for all of you beautiful lovelies.
