Beca watched as the original thirteen stitches in her palm were carefully pulled out. It stung as the nurse cleaned the freshly ripped wound.
"Are you sure you don't want me to numb it?" She asked worriedly as she prepared to restitch her hand.
"I'm sure."
She barely winced as the needle pulled the thread through her hand, and tugged it into knots thirteen times.
"Now, check in with your regular doctor, you said there was possible nerve damage? He or She is going to want to check this thoroughly."
Beca nodded, as her hand was rebandaged.
"And I would recommend you stay away from any activity that could cause you to fall until this is fully healed." She said standing up and taking her gloves off. "And don't wait so long if it happens again, or you risk it getting infected."
Beca had waited until the next morning to go to Urgent care. She didn't want to go back to the hospital, incase they recognized her. There is no way they would believe her lie. She hadn't fallen while roller skating. She didn't even own skates.
Aubrey didn't come this time. When Beca was leaving the house, she was passed out drunk on the couch. She didn't bother waking her, knowing it wouldn't end well. She didn't want to go back home either.
She thanked the nurse as she got up and left to check out, before leaving the clinic and going out to sit in her car.
She didn't know what to do. It was nearly ten in the morning. Aubrey would usually be up and gone to work by now. If she hadn't been fired by her father three days earlier. She wasn't sure what she had been doing during the last two days of Chloe's stay. She got up and got dressed and left the house as if she were going to work. But now, knowing she had been fired, Beca had no idea what she had been doing while she pretended to be at work.
She could go to the label, but she risked running into Kate and she still didn't have a solid answer for her.
Not knowing what else to do, she decided she would make a run to the grocery store. They hadn't been shopping since before Chloe arrived and she knew of a few things they were out of.
Two hours later, she was walking into the kitchen, two large paper bags in her arms. She set them on the counter and was just starting to unload them when Aubrey walked in.
She stopped unpacking and looked at her cautiously. Dropping her hands to the counter in front of her slowly, not sure what to do with herself.
"Where were you?" Aubrey asked. She had showered, and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Becas initial reaction was to comment that she looked relaxed. Usually, she only saw her in pantsuits and her pajamas.
"I called your phone. I was worried." She said flatly.
Beca looked down for a second. Then looking back up at her wife who was once again acting like nothing had happened the night before, she spoke.
"I had to go to urgent care. My stitches ripped, and I had to have them redone. Then I went shopping, we needed groceries."
"Don't you have work today?" Aubrey asked as she pulled a bag toward her and began unpacking it.
"I'm taking a mental health day." She said carefully as she continued to unpack her own bag.
Aubrey looked at her, as she emptied the bag and set it aside.
"I told you last night that I lost my job, and the first thing you do is take a mental health day?" She asked.
"I needed to get my stitches fixed." Her voice came out soft, not knowing what else might set Aubrey off.
"So, you couldn't go in when you were done? I could have done the shopping." She said picking up the vegetables she just unpacked and taking them over to the fridge.
"I don't know what to tell Katie about taking over the label." She said softly, feeling the tension in the room begin to thicken with every question.
Aubrey slammed the fridge and Beca jumped, turning her body toward her so she could see every move she made.
"What part of, I just lost my job do you not understand, Beca?" She demanded bracing her hands on the counter top.
Apparently, it didn't matter what she did, or said or her tone of voice. Aubrey was already angry.
"Don't you think we probably need that pay raise? Now that I'm not working?"
"You're right, I'm sorry." Beca said, her voice thick with unshed tears. This was her life now. How did it get this bad so fast?
"I'll work from home today, I'll go up right now and email her, and tell her that I can accept the position." She said and turned to leave the kitchen.
"Beca."
She stopped, and slowly turned back to look at Aubrey. The older woman stepped over to her and Beca held still as she examined her face. When she found nothing, she let out a breath.
Beca looked down as she turned on the sink and wet a towel, before wiping the make-up off her face. She didn't move, or say anything as the carefully applied mask was roughly removed and all her new bruises were put on full display.
It took her nearly forty-five minutes that morning to cover her new black eye and the bruise across her cheek and jaw. She couldn't really remember much from the night before. She remembers the first hit, falling and seeing her wife walking towards her. Then, pain and darkness. She woke up on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night and drug herself upstairs. Luckily the rest of her bruises were easily covered by clothing. Because there were many.
When Aubrey finished cleaning her face, she leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to her cheek before turning back to the groceries.
Beca took a tentative step back, before turning and walking up the stairs. Where she would remain for as long as she possibly could.
XXXXXX
Aubrey stood looking at herself in the mirror of their large bathroom. The bath was running and she was in her robe, staring at her reflection.
She hadn't noticed her busted knuckles until she had woken up with a nasty hangover and barely any memory of the night before. What she knew was, she had lost her job, she held her anger for as long as she could and as soon as she had Beca alone, she beat her up. Badly.
She stood back from the mirror and dropped her robe, before dimming the lights and stepping into the steaming hot bath. She laid back, letting the water cover her, and ignored the burn in her split knuckles. The water felt good, and she knew she needed a night like this, where she could just relax. She let her eyes fall closed and once she felt good and relaxed, she reached over to the little table beside the bath, and picked up her glass of wine.
She was fully aware her drinking was becoming a problem. It was the main reason for her outbursts. It took away her filter. It took away her ability to hold back and make the right choice. If she had just enough though, it took away everything.
Her fathers' words were still bouncing around in her head, days later.
"You are a failure, Aubrey. You failed this Firm; you failed your family and you failed me. Just like that despicable excuse of a woman you call a wife. I should have known she would be your downfall. You worked so hard, and she is the reason you lose it all? How do you look at yourself?"
She took a deep drink from her cup, clearing her throat and trying to remain relaxed. She had told him; the insemination didn't work. He told her; it was Becas fault. Of course, it didn't work. She didn't honestly know if Beca was pregnant, they hadn't tested yet. They were supposed to wait two weeks and they were just coming up on that time. She hoped she wasn't. With another large drink the glass was empty and she returned it to the table.
She sunk under the water, blowing air out of her nose until she was settled at the bottom of the large tub. When the water stilled, and she was nearly unable to hold her breath any longer, she opened her eyes and looked up at the blurry ceiling of the bathroom.
After the beating she gave her wife the night before. She wasn't sure if it were possible for her to be pregnant.
XXXXXX
Chloe sat on her sofa in her apartment in Portland, her phone in her hand, and a look of concern on her face.
She had called and texted both Aubrey and Beca when she landed the night before but neither of them had answered her. It had now been almost twenty-four hours and she still hadn't heard from either one of them.
She knew something had happened; she just didn't know what. It made her sick to think of the possibility that Aubrey had done something. She wasn't stupid, she could see right through Aubrey's charade. She was pissed about something and she was waiting for Chloe to be gone to let it out. She just hoped she hadn't let it out on Beca.
XXXXXX
Meanwhile 2,500 miles away, Beca laid in their bed, her back to Aubrey holding her phone and watching it ring.
She had countless missed calls and text messages and she could tell Chloe knew something was up, by the urgency in her later messages. Did she know? That wasn't possible, was it? How could she know? Aubrey had been exceptionally kind to her the whole time Chloe was there.
She set her phone face down on her nightstand and snuggled into her pillow. She could hear the soft sound of Aubrey's steady breathing behind her and knew she was asleep. She had been asleep when Beca got into bed nearly an hour before. It was well past midnight, and the empty wine glass on Aubrey's night stand told her that she had drank herself to sleep. Again.
She had emailed back and forth with Kate, accepting the position and couldn't help but smile at how thrilled Kate seemed to be. She was due at the label bright and early, to sign all the paperwork. She knew she needed to be awake extra early to do her make up, so she was only going to get a few hours of sleep.
Her mind raced with all the thoughts and memories of what had been going on lately. She couldn't help but think that Aubrey hated her. Didn't want her anymore. She felt lower than she had ever felt. Lower than dirt. All she was good for, apparently, was the extra money that was to come with her promotion.
She didn't know what Aubrey was going to do about work. If she would find another firm to work for, or if her father had gone the extra mile to make sure no other firm would hire her. Either way, it would be her fault. She didn't even know exactly what had happened. What had been said by John. She was sure it was bad. She knew he had probably railed Aubrey with insults about her and how disappointing their whole marriage was.
She felt a lump form in her throat. She tried to swallow it down, squeezing her eyes closed, but it didn't stop the sob that escaped and she quickly shot her hand up to cover her mouth. The tears fell heavily and she did her best to stay as silent as possible.
Behind her, Aubrey had woken up, and was staring at the balcony doors across from her as she heard the stifled whimpers behind her. She felt her own eyes become hot with tears.
Who had she become? A woman who drank her problems away? A woman who beat her wife? She had become her father. She had become the monster that she feared as a child. She hurt Beca, maybe beyond repair. She wasn't sober, not even close, but she was just intoxicated enough that the emotions were hitting her hard. She was a disgrace. She was a failure to her father, and to Beca.
Not knowing if it'd be welcomed or not, she slowly turned over, and scooted up behind Beca. She felt her wife's body still, and then tense hard, and she realized Beca was bracing herself. Slowly, but intentionally tucking her head further into her pillow, to protect her face.
"Shh," She whispered as she carefully wrapped her arm around Becas waist. "Shh, I've got you. I'm sorry, my love. I'm not going to hurt you."
Beca didn't relax, but she moved her hand, and let out a heartbreaking cry as she completely broke down.
Aubrey held her tightly, feeling her body shake uncontrollably.
"I'll get help." Aubrey whispered into her ear. "I'll see a doctor."
Beca didn't reply, she couldn't. All she could do was let out all the pain and tears she had been gathering for weeks. She cried harder than Aubrey had ever seen anyone cry. She held her the whole time, until she finally fell into deep gasps, hiccups and whimpers. After an hour or so, her body finally relaxed and Aubrey knew she had finally cried so hard she had passed out.
She kissed her wet cheek, before covering her with the blanket. Then, she slowly got out of bed, and silently left the room.