A/N; There's no excuse for the year long wait since I updated this. I was surprised it had been that long. I'll try to do better. Let me know if anyone is still wanting to read this.
October 2019
I slump down on the dark leather sofa across from the therapist. It's a familiar scene. A familiar routine that's taken place every Friday at five for the past three months. The man sitting in front of me, Matt, pen and pad of paper in hand, knows more about my life than anyone but Alicia. It turned out that my encounter with Jack Sutton and his men six months ago and the underlying mental trauma it caused me wasn't the only thing in my life that needed some talking through.
After the past few days I'm not certain that we've made as much progress as I'd thought a week ago sitting in this very spot. For every step forward, I feel like I've taken ten steps back from where we started.
I'm not ready to hear the answer I'm almost certain Matt is going to give me during our time together tonight. That this, episode, earlier in the week was just a symptom of my post-traumatic stress.
"Tell me again what you told me on the phone Monday." He looks at his pad ready to take notes.
Tell you again? Why? To remind me once more of the monster that erupted in our bed six nights ago? To make me feel more guilty and doubt the safety of my wife in my own hands?
I run my hands over my face. I'm exhausted. I've hardly slept all week out of fear. Fear that the nightmare will come back and what I might do as a result.
Resigned to the fact that the only way I will get past this is by talking about it, I begin. "It was the middle of the night. I was dreaming. I was back in the run-down cabin where they kept me that night. I can barely move. My muscles ache from the beating. My fingers and wrists are throbbing in pain from the rope that's bound them behind my back. Then, my client comes into the room with Alicia."
-"What are you doing with her? I say with a tone that could kill. "You said you'd leave her alone if I came." I attempt to stand from my slumped position on the floor. Every single fiber inside of me aches. But I will die before I let anyone harm her. "If you've harmed a single hair on her head, I swear to you,"
The man across the room just laughs. "Will, don't be so dramatic." He reaches for Alicia's elbow and pushes her a few inches towards me. "Tell him you're fine, Mrs. Gardner. That your child is safe at home with the nanny, and that you came willingly."
Alicia gives him a glare of death. "I wouldn't coin tying my hands up as willingness, but yes," she looks at me again. "I'm fine." It's only then that she lets her tough guard down and I can see as bright as the noon day sun the fear running through her.
"Let her go. You don't need her." I try to step forward, but a strong pair of hands holds me back.
"Oh, but I do need her," he cackles.
Like the flip of a switch things turn horribly bad. He grabs Alicia's hair pulling her head back. A knife is at her throat. "Now, tell me what I want to know, or you'll watch her die right here."
Panic, anxiety, adrenaline course through my veins. My whole world is collapsing right in front of me. "I've already told you everything I know. There's nothing else to tell." I'm groveling, desperate. "Please," I plead. "Let her go. Kill me instead." I struggle to get free from the hands restraining me.
"One last chance, Will. Where is the money?"
The point of knife begins to make an indent in her skin. "Will!" she cries.
And suddenly my hands are free. I don't know how, but I lunge forward taking Sutton down with me a split second before the knife cut through Alicia's throat.
"Will, wake up!" Alicia yells.
Suddenly the scene around me is completely changed. I'm back in the dim light of our bedroom and the body underneath mine is not the two-hundred and fifty-pound drug king I tackled to the ground. It's Alicia, her head flung back over the edge of the mattress. I have one hand wrapped around her right wrist in a death grip, my other ready to throw a punch, my full weight crushing her beneath me.
I pause in stunned shock trying to regain any sense of what's going on. I can barely make out her face in the dim light coming through the window, but she looks panicked.
Slowly her free hand reaches for mine, gently lowering it. "Will," she says, hoarsely. "I can't breathe."
It takes longer than it should for me to figure out what the problem is. I quickly move off her, releasing her constrained wrist, as the floods of shame, horror, and guilt engulf me. She takes in a deep breath of air filling her lungs again. I flip the lamp on at the side of the bed. She's just laying there staring up at the ceiling.
I apologize, profusely, and begin my search of her entire body for evidence of what I can only describe as cruelty that I've just inflicted on her. I'd never lay a hand on her. There is nothing in this world she could do to cause me to even consider harming her – except I just did.
She begins to slowly sit up. A pained, worried, look in her eyes as she does so. In this moment I wish there were someone here that could inflict the same kind of pain on me that I've inflicted on her.
"You were dreaming," she whispers. Her eyes remain on me, as she slowly climbs out of the bed, probably to better assess the damage. "You were upset. It sounded like you were in pain. I rolled over to see what was wrong. I tried shaking you awake and the next thing I knew I was pinned beneath you." She reaches her hand to the back of her head. "I need some ice."
I apologize a thousand more times, tell her to sit, I'll get the ice. "No. stay here. I'll get it." she puts a hand up to block me from leaving, and winces at the pain. That's when I see the blood trickling down her arm from the small cut that must have come from my fingernails digging into her skin. I want to follow her, but maybe we both need a minute to breathe.
She comes back, ice pack in one hand, and goes to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. I offer to help. She can't clean and bandage up the cut with one hand. Pressing the ice pack to the back of her head, she lets me take care of the injured wrist. I can already see the bruise beginning to form.
We both remain silent, caught up in our own thoughts. A few minutes later I lead her back to the bed. We sit.
"You were dreaming about Sutton and what they did to you?" The deep concern is etched in her every feature.
"Yes, but they...had you. He was going to kill you." I can't hold in the emotions. She is practically the only thing that can bring me to tears. And that's exactly what happens now that the adrenaline and fear from a few minutes ago is slowly melting away.
"Leesh, I'm so sorry. I'd never hurt you. Please forgive me," I'm begging. I'll beg for the rest of my life if it will make this better. But she's not angry at me. She's angry at Sutton. Tears begin to spill from her eyes. She reaches her arms around my neck, pulling me into her. Her chin rests on the top of my head.
"I forgive you. This isn't your fault. But Will," she exhales a sob. "We have to do something about this. Therapy was working, but this has never happened before. This has to end. We can't represent Sutton anymore. Every encounter you have with him moves you in the wrong direction."
My initial reaction is to argue with her. I've thought endlessly on ways to get Sutton out of our lives, but I haven't come up with any suitable solution. Not one that doesn't leave she, and I, and the baby in danger. Instead of responding, I just nod slowly, my head still cradled against her chest. –
I finish my story and stare at Matt. "Aside from the dream," I argue, "The real issue here is that I physically hurt Alicia. Her wrist isn't the only thing bearing a dark purple bruise. She's got one on her hip from her small frame being crushed beneath me. I insisted she go to see a doctor the next day to have the bump on the back of her head examined. She said it was fine. But with her history, we needed to make sure there wasn't any internal bleeding or other complications."
He leans forward. "The dream is an issue. So is what happened to Alicia. How is she doing?"
"She's fine. Physically I mean. She's mending."
"And emotionally?"
"I…she's better off than I am. It scared her, but she's not worried it will happen again. She's more concerned about me than anything else." It's the truth. She's facing this head on. Trying to encourage me to talk, to not worry about hurting her again, but…
"I'm scared to death I'll do it again, and that it will be worse. I've been sleeping in the guest room, which she hates, but I feel like it's the only way to protect her from me. She's been understanding. She's been patient with my quick temper all week. She knows I don't want to hurt her, but the look of discouragement in her eyes every night after I say goodnight and head to the guest room is obvious. Last night we got into a bit of an argument over it."
-"Come to bed, with me, tonight." She's massaging my shoulders with her good hand, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. She just finished cleaning up the kitchen and putting Mira to bed.
I set my paper work down on the coffee table, reaching a hand to cover hers. "Leesh, it's too risky." I stare at Mira's stuffed bunny on the floor near my feet. Her ministrations cease. Her grip tightens on my shoulder.
"Will, it was one time. It's never happened before. It's never going to happen again. I miss sleeping next to you. I miss waking up next to you. I miss kissing you in the dark as we fall closer to sleep." She moves around the chair, and sits in my lap, wrapping her arms loosely around my neck. "It's been more than a week since we made love." Her soft hands move to my cheeks, and I'm forced to look at her. "My body misses you," she whispers.
I sigh in resignation. My hands move to her hips. "Leesh, it's not that I don't want to." I hope that my eyes won't betray what I'm saying. I know immediately that they do. She moves off me and without saying a word heads towards our bedroom.
"Alicia, wait." I stand up to go after her.
She spins around glaring at me. "I know you're worried you're going to hurt me. What happened the other night scared you. It scared me too. But I can't live like this. It's one thing to not want to sleep next to me in our bed for fear that you're going to do what you did the other night. But what am I supposed to think when you refuse to even snuggle with me on the couch? You've barely touched me the whole week. You're treating me like I'm some kind of porcelain doll that's going to shatter into a million pieces if you lay more than a finger on me."
"Alicia, it's not… It's just that I don't…" I quickly glance at her hip that's covered by her silk pajama bottoms. "I'm afraid I'll just make it worse." She seems to know exactly what I'm getting at.
"My hip is fine. A little rough and tumble between the sheets is not going to make it worse. This isn't about having sex. It's about you not being willing to even kiss me. You have a meeting with Sutton Monday morning. Figure out a way to end this charade with him by then, or I will." She heads into the bedroom slamming the door behind her. -
"Why have you avoided physical contact with her this week?"
My head drops, I clasp my hands. "Because I'm ashamed of what I did to her. I'm afraid I'll hurt her again."
"Have you considered that you might be hurting her more by avoiding physical contact?"
I haven't. I've been so worried all week that I might hurt her physically I didn't consider the other. "No," I admit. "I thought things were going so well. The therapy, the medication. The past month has been good. I'm not jumpy when someone comes up behind me. I was sleeping better. I was feeling like I was getting my life back. Like I finally had the upper hand. But it feels like I've gone back to ground zero."
We discuss it for a while. We talk about the dream and its implications. Run over the strategies for moving past it, talk once again about how Alicia was right. I seem to struggle more after I've interacted with Sutton.
It's near the end of our time together and simply talking about it has helped some.
"Have you ever told Alicia exactly what happened to you that night?"
My stomach knots up. "No. She doesn't need to know."
He sighs, sitting back in his cushioned seat. "Will, you're desire to protect her might be getting in the way of a full recovery. You're so worried something is going to happen to her when your client is around, that the blame you'd put on yourself if something did happen is consuming you. You're placing blame before anything happens, and because of it you're starting to avoid her all together. You think the less contact she has with you the less chance she'll have of getting hurt."
I take a moment to consider this, and he's right. I'm not worried about what happens to me. That has never been the issue. It wasn't even the issue when it happened. When they were beating me all I could think about was staying alive so that they'd have no reason to try and beat information out of Alicia. I'm terrified of what might happen to her.
"I see your point. What do I do about it?"
I leave his office feeling better than I have all week, with a medication change and list of things I need to discuss with Alicia. Hopefully she'll still be willing to talk to me after last night. She avoided me before work and spent her entire day in court. I picked up a little something for her on my way home. I haven't been a complete idiot this week. I did take mental note of some of her comments the past few days, enough to know that she's been craving some mint chocolate truffle cake from a restaurant down the street from our office.
I find Alicia and Mira on the floor. Alicia's tickling her little tummy eliciting giggles from the baby that are like music to my ears. It looks like she was just changed into her pajamas.
Alicia doesn't turn to look at me, but lifts Mira to stand up. "Go see daddy, munchkin. It's almost time for bed." I set my things down on the counter as Mira makes her way to me. Her dark brown curls bobbing around her face as she runs towards me. I bend down and scoop her up into my arms as she plants a slobbery kiss to my cheek.
Alicia stands up, quickly glancing in my direction before she heads to Mira's room. She still looks upset. It might take a while to dig myself out of the hole I'm in.
I offer to put Mira to bed, and when I come back into the main part of the house Alicia's back is turned to me. She's putting some dishes away, but very slowly. I move around the kitchen island to get closer.
"I can make you a bite to eat if you want," she offers. Her back still turned to me, she seems paralyzed holding the plate in her hands.
"I'd appreciate it…if you don't mind." This is better than I expected. At least she's speaking to me, unlike this morning.
"I don't like being angry at you," she confesses. Setting the plate down she turns to face me. "I don't know what to do Will. You've been shutting me out all week. I don't know how to help you. I don't know how to fix this. If you just need time to work it out in your mind, I get it. I of all people understand the need for time after a traumatic event. But I need you to tell me that's what you need." Her gaze moves to the floor and when she finally looks back up at me her eyes are glistening with tears. "I can't help you fight this battle if I don't know what you need. Just tell me this isn't going to ruin us. That we aren't going to spend the rest of our lives sleeping in separate beds. Tell me that at some point you'll want to hold me again, kiss me, spend all night making love to me."
When she finishes I'm only an inch away from her. I reach to wipe away a few of her tears. "I'm sorry for the way I've been this week. We will be okay, I promise." To prove it to her I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer. Surprisingly she doesn't resist.
"I should have been more open with you. I've been so worried about something happening to you and Mira that I pulled away. I thought it was the only way to truly protect you. But it was wrong."
"The doctor set you straight?" She raises her brow to me as her hands go to my chest. Her tears have subsided for the moment.
"Yes," I stifle a laugh.
"I'll need to send something as a thank you."
It's the first smile I've seen on her face in days. "Leesh, there are things we need to talk about. Things I've kept from you because…"
"Because you were trying to protect me?"
"Yes. But I've only made it worse by not telling you."
She stretches her arms tangling her hands together at the back of my neck. "You know I'm here for you no matter what. You don't always have to be the strong one. You just have to let me in."
I nod, leaning forward to press my forehead to hers. "I know."
Hesitantly she moves in for a kiss. How could I have ever thought that doing this would harm her?
"I brought something home for you," I say, after breaking the kiss. I hand her the paper sack with the cake in it. Her eyes light up and for the first time in a week I feel like things are falling back into place.
"How did you know I've wanted this for three days now?"
"Aside from my behavior this week, I was still paying attention."
We talk and eat and talk some more afterwards on the couch. The anger and pain she expresses once she knows exactly what those men did to me is no less than I expect.
After some time, she's curled up next to me. I feel better than I have for days. While I'm still scared that something might happen to her, I feel better knowing that she shares in my concern, and that we'll face it together. I have to stop trying to do it all on my own.
"What's your homework assignment for this week?" she asks, playing with my fingers. She always asks when I come home from a session.
I sigh heavily. "To figure out how to get rid of our client. To try out some of the new strategies he showed me if I the flashbacks, or dreams, hit me." I turn so she can see my face. "To welcome your advances."
Her eyes show only love. The anger and disappointment from earlier has washed away. Now that my anxiety levels have gone down to a more normal level I'm craving what we haven't shared in over a week now.
"You'll sleep in our bed with me tonight?" She wraps her arms around my neck. How could I deny the hopeful look in her eyes.
"I will. I'll even do better than that if you want." Slowly I lean in to press my lips to hers.
There are times when we make love to each other where every kiss, every touch has meaning behind it. This is one of those nights. Nothing is rushed. We simply enjoy each other until we're completely worn out. We're almost to the breaking point, I'm about to slide into her, but my eyes briefly linger on the bruise that's still marking her hip. I tense up.
Her hand gently touches the side of my face forcing me to look at her.
"It's okay," she whispers. Before I have a chance to speak she presses a fervent, needy kiss to my lips, aligning our bodies to prepare for the end.
We talk more as the night lingers on. Our naked bodies tangled together, we share a few more sugar dipped kisses before drifting off to sleep.