AN: This chapter was probably one of the hardest chapters I've ever written. I don't necessarily hope you enjoy it, but maybe get something out of it.

Chapter 14

March 1988

"Henry! No," she screamed. Henry pulled his hand back, ready to release the pain that had become so unbearable in the last few minutes. He couldn't get away from it. His last journal entry had been so hard. He was teetering on the brink. Then Elizabeth was pushing him in ways that felt controlling. It was too much. He couldn't do it. He had to escape. He rushed out of the apartment slamming the door behind him as hard as he could. He was already halfway down the steps when he heard the pictures fall from the walls and glass shatter. Elizabeth crying sent him over the edge.

He hit the door to the building hard, running into the parking lot. Looking wildly around, he couldn't make make his mind focus. He was angry and hurting and panicked. Henry took off running as hard as he could, having no idea where he was going or when he'd return.

Elizabeth was beside herself, sobbing hysterically into the throw pillows on the couch. She was just beginning to settle herself down when there was a knock at the door. She lay stock still on the couch waiting, praying that whatever salesman it was would go away. The knock came again, "Police. Open the door."

"Oh God," she mumbled. She surveyed the room and became nauseous. The lamp was knocked sideways from the pillow thrown and the pile of books that was on the corner of the desk had fallen as Henry rushed by, and glass covered the floor near the door where two pictures had fallen when the door slammed shut. "Uh, I'll be there in just a moment." Her hands were shaking and she swallowed hard. She needed to remain calm. Elizabeth quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. She grabbed the pillow that she'd been crying on and used it to brush the glass away from the area rug to the door. "Hold on," she said, turning the knob. Elizabeth hadn't made the glass free zone quite wide enough to clear the door as she pulled it partially open. She stepped back and felt the slivers slice into her bare foot. She bit her lip and prayed that the officer didn't notice.

"Hello officer. Sorry for the wait. I was using the bathroom," she lied, knowing it was obvious that she'd been crying. "Can I help you?"

"Miss, we received a call from someone in the building about a possible domestic disturbance. I'm here to check it out. Are you okay?"

"Oh," she tried to be surprised. "I'm fine. My boyfriend and I did have a disagreement, but it was nothing. I forget how thin these walls are." She chuckled for effect. "I'll remind him when he gets back. Thank you." Elizabeth started to push the door shut.

"Miss? So he isn't here now?" the officer asked

"No. He's out." Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, both from the officer's questions and the glass digging into her foot.

"If you need to leave, I can take you right now. There are places you can go to get away and be safe."

Elizabeth exhaled slowly while she formed her words. "Officer," she squinted to read his name on the badge clipped to his shirt pocket, "Dempsey. I appreciate the sentiment, but really it was just an argument. I'm fine, he's fine and we'll be fine when he comes back. Now, I have dinner to prepare, so if you don't need anything else, you can be on your way."

The officer nodded and pulled out his wallet, digging out a business card. "Here's the number for a shelter in case you change your mind. Call that number, no questions asked, they can be on your doorstep in 30 minutes."

Elizabeth sighed and took the card. "Unnecessary, but thanks. Have a good evening Officer Dempsey." She didn't wait for his response, pushing the door closed and locking it. She leaned against the door and let out a shuddering breath, wrapping her arms around herself to try and stop the shaking. After a couple of minutes, she thought she was okay enough to make it to the bathroom. She hobbled in and sat on the edge of the bathtub with a pair of tweezers and tried to stop shaking enough to remove the glass shards from her foot.

Everything was cleaned up quickly but Elizabeth spent the rest of the evening cleaning that which was already clean. "What if the police came back? What if she had to let them in? What if they saw her foot?" The questions kept coming and filled her mind until she couldn't take it anymore. She'd barely had a taste of anything alcoholic since the incident in the Quad last year, but she looked at the bottle of whiskey in the cabinet before pulling it out. She needed to settle her nerves and she didn't have a better way. She was concerned for Henry, who had now been gone for more than four hours. She was worried and embarrassed about what the neighbors thought of them, of her. She poured two fingers in a tumbler and put the bottle away. She didn't want to take a chance on drinking too much.

It was well after midnight when Henry returned. He stepped into a darkened apartment, thankful that Elizabeth was already in bed. He didn't know how far he'd run, but he eventually ended up at Don's house and spent quite a while talking with the older man. Henry didn't bother turning on the lights. He figured he'd take a shower and sleep on the couch and try to figure things out with Elizabeth in the morning. "I didn't know if you'd come home," she said, her voice coming from the darkness. Henry nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What the hell? You scared me. Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Henry questioned, now identifying her silhouette from across the room.

"I didn't want anyone to think anything was out of place," she said softly. "Our lights usually aren't on at 2 am. I didn't want to rouse suspicion."

"Suspicion from who?" Henry asked incredulously, his voice raising. "What's going on?"

"The neighbors. The police. You need to be quiet," she said. "People will hear." She shivered at her own mention of the police and quickly tucked her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to hold herself together.

"What happened Elizabeth?" Henry asked, rounding the end of the couch, heading toward her. She started shaking again and her breath shuddered. "Elizabeth?" Henry knelt in front of her and gently pushed away the locks of hair that had fallen in front of her face. 'Babe? What happened?" His elbow brushed the top of her foot, which was wrapped in gauze. Henry looked down and alarm spread across his features. "Elizabeth," he said sternly.

"No-no-no-no. You must b-b-be quiet." She covered his mouth with her hand. "Th-they'll c-c-come back." Between the crying and stuttering and whispering, Henry had no idea what exactly happened, but he had never seen Elizabeth act this way and it scared him.

"Come on babe. We're going to bed." He pulled her to standing and she sucked in a sharp breath when she tried to put weight on her foot. Henry scooped her up and carried her to bed. Laying her down carefully, Henry pulled the cover over her.

Elizabeth refused to let go of his hand. "Don't make me be alone. Please."

Henry's heart broke. He knew that whatever happened had hurt her deeply and he knew that he would spend a long time trying to fix it. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He slid in beside her and held her shaking body close to his. He stroked her hair until she fell asleep. Henry stayed awake watching Elizabeth's chest rise and fall. He thought about what had transpired and became acutely aware that he couldn't keep Elizabeth shielded from his past. He'd been journaling his childhood abuse for a few months now and he knew that the emotional toll it took on him was felt by her also, even though she didn't know why.

Yesterday had been particularly difficult and then Elizabeth had pressed him on a decision to go to a social event with her when he didn't want to go, it became too much. As he lay there in the dark, he saw how dumb it all was, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't separate himself from the emotion. Thankfully, he hadn't hit anything. He'd run until he literally was too exhausted to run anymore, then he walked to Don and Christy's house and sat with Don for a long time.

Don wasn't a flashy man. He was a man that lived a simple life. He worked hard so he could go home and be present with his family. He was smart and could've been a lawyer or doctor or held any number of other professional careers, but he purposely chose to do something simple. He supported his family and that was enough. His words to Henry weren't hard to understand. Be present. Breathe before you speak and speak from a position of love.

Henry liked the idea of being able to be present for his family. His father had always worked long hours to provide for their meager existence. Henry wanted an education so he could do something more. He was drawn to teaching. The idea of imparting knowledge and shaping minds, or being a mentor to someone who may not have good role models appealed to him very much. He had several of his own teachers that fell into that category. Henry wanted to be like them.

Henry stayed awake all night and watched over Elizabeth. When the sun finally started to rise and make its way into their bedroom, Elizabeth shifted closer to Henry. He held her until her eyes fluttered open. "You're here," she said, her voice still hoarse from crying so hard the night before.

"Yes, babe. I'm here and I'm sorry." Brushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah, but I have something that I want to share with you later, alright?" Elizabeth nodded and snuggled closer for a few minutes.

She squirmed against him. "I have to go to the bathroom." She slid out of the bed and went to take a step, but the foot with the cuts was swollen and very painful. She half walk-hopped awkwardly to the bathroom and tried not to put any pressure on that foot. When she made it back, Henry motioned for her to sit and he took the bandage off revealing 3 deep cuts and a half dozen superficial ones. The three deep cuts were already showing signs of infection and Henry was positive he could still see glass in one.

"Elizabeth! Babe! Stay right there. Let me get the first aid kit." He rushed into the bathroom and returned moments later with a small box. "How did this happen?" he asked.

"I accidentally stepped in the glass from the broken frames when the door opened wider than the spot I'd cleaned." Henry wrinkled his forehead in confusion. She sighed. She could tell the story now. She was much clearer headed. "The police came and I had to answer the door."

'What? Why?" She held up her hand to stop him. She told him how she quickly brushed away the glass from the door, but when she opened it, she hadn't judged correctly and stepped in some. "But why were the police at the door to begin with?"

"One of our neighbors called in a possible domestic dispute, and the officer came to check it out." The reality of that hit Henry squarely in the chest.

"Our neighbors think I hit you. Oh my God, Elizabeth." He bailed off the bed where he was prepping the tweezers and bandages to look at Elizabeth's foot. He ran to the bathroom and Elizabeth heard him heaving into the toilet. He came back in, sweaty and pale, his fingers laced behind his head first, then covering his mouth as he paced the floor. He spoke, his voice shaking. "I really am no better. I tried to be, but I'm going to be just like her. I can't escape it."

"Henry, stop!" She reached over, half hanging off the bed to grab his shirttail. "Stop. The officer came and asked me if I was alright. I said I was fine and he left. So I think we're fine. You're fine. It was a misunderstanding." Elizabeth was amazed that she could talk as calmly about it as she was in that moment. She hoped she sounded more reassuring than she felt about what had happened. In truth, she was terrified, but feeding into Henry's near hysteria over the event wouldn't help. "It's actually a good thing. We just learned that our walls are really thin. If they heard us yelling, they've probably heard other things too." She grinned at him.

"Stop. I don't need to be thinking about that," Henry said seriously, but she could see the amusement creeping into his eyes.

"We'll do better from here on out." Henry nodded his agreement and then moved back to the bed, pulling Elizabeth's foot into his lap. Twenty minutes later, he had removed two more slivers of glass and had cleaned the cuts and rebandaged them.

"Let's get you out to the couch and you can keep your foot propped up today," he said, scooping Elizabeth up and quickly depositing her in the living room. "I'll make breakfast, then I have something I want to show you." Elizabeth nodded and watched Henry zip off to the kitchen. She could see him buzzing around making the food and it caused her to feel so conflicted. Yesterday was such a hotbed of anger and fear and today was homey and loving. She couldn't really figure out how to process it and store it away in her emotional filing cabinet.

They ate in silence, mostly just pushing the food around on the plate. "Henry." He looked up at her, and she could see the pain in his soft, brown eyes. "This isn't how I thought it would look." He dropped his head, and she was unsure whether or not she should continue.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve this. You deserve to be with someone who can love you the way you should be loved. The police should never show up on your doorstep and scare you to death because your boyfriend is messed up and the neighbors think he beats you." Henry stood and paced in front of her. "This is exactly who I said I wasn't going to be. Maybe I really can't be anything beyond what I was born into. Maybe she was right."

Elizabeth put her plate down and pushed herself from the couch and limped to where he was standing. "No. She was wrong. You are so much more than anything you can even hope for yourself. I see your heart. I know what's inside you. Let me in. If I know, then at least I can try to help, or give you space or whatever you need. It's the not knowing and the tiptoeing around things that's hard. Let me support you."

"One day Elizabeth Adams, I swear I will give you the idyllic relationship your parents had." Henry enveloped her in his arms and held her tight.

"I'm coming to realize that things are much more complicated than I made them out to be. My memories of my parents are wonderful, but they probably aren't all that accurate, or I have selectively chosen what to remember and what to forget." Elizabeth tilted her head back to get a good look at Henry. "We're going to make it, because not making it isn't an option."

He kissed her gently. "You're too good for me," he said. Henry led her back to the couch. "I want to show you something." Before she could respond, he disappeared into their bedroom and returned shortly, holding a notebook. He placed it in her lap. "I thought I could spare you this, so I've kept it from you, but what happened yesterday makes me realize that me working through this affects you too. It's not fair that you've been dealing with the repercussions but don't know why."

"What is it?" she asked, unsure if she wanted what she held in her hand.

"Fr. Matthew suggested that I take your advice and work through the things that happened to me. I don't really have anyone that I wanted to sit down and talk about it with, so I decided to journal instead. What you have is a written account of my childhood."

"It's not going to upset you if I know this?" Elizabeth asked, holding up the notebook.

"It upsets me that it's there and that it affects our relationship. I wish with every fiber of my being that I could just push it away and start fresh with you. I tried. I wanted to leave there and leave it all behind. I was foolish to think I could do that-that the way I grew up wouldn't shape how I behaved in certain situations or how I looked at life in general." Henry sat down on the floor next to the couch and stroked Elizabeth's hand.

"Thank you for trusting me with this," she said.

"Thank you believing in me and for loving me, even when it's hard." Elizabeth tugged his head into her lap, stroked his face and combed through his hair. Henry fell asleep against her and she began reading.