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Thinking back to when she met him, he was charming and kind, he treated her like a princess, bought her things made her feel special; she truly thought she had finally found her everlasting love, the day they said I do was emotional.
That sweet, considerate man she had married looked after her always, it wasn't until she was asked to go for a weekend trip just to the beach with the girls she noticed that he looked a bit too hard. Instantly she was told no, that he was having his boss over for dinner and she had to cook.
She guessed it was down to the fact that the dinner was important for him and his career, so of course his little wife should play her role and be host and chef for the evening. It went from excuse to excuse as to why she wasn't allowed anywhere without him.
He on the other hand would go out, he would pat her on the head and tell her that she should do her household duties and prepare a meal for his return. The more he would go out the more condescending he would become.
She had found secret love notes sent to his email by an unknown female, she had questioned him with a level head just in case she was acting a little crazy. He had confessed his infidelity and cried that night, saying it was a mistake and he loved only her so she forgave him.
After that he went back to the man she had first met, she was granted more freedom with her friends to which she took full advantage of. Seeing her friends in a loving relationship where the idea of one of them spending a night out was welcomed with open arms made her rethink things.
Eventually the cracks began to show in his façade, he would snap when he spoke to her, slam his fist off the table as a means to an end of the conversation and even threw his dinner plate in her direction when she wanted a salad instead of a steak one night.
Speaking to Willow, who was her friend and close enough to be called a sister she had let her know of some of the problems, she didn't say what, just that they were having a rough patch and it would hopefully be over soon.
The first time he had struck her she shut herself off from everyone, locked the door and remained inside until the bruises had almost healed; some concealer could work its magic on them. Her mind then worked through what she must have done to deserve it.
She put on a brave face when Willow asked where she had been and what she had been doing; she lied and said that they had spent the days alone just wanting some quality time together. Whether she was being paranoid or not she could feel her friends eyes linger on the fading marks.
The arguments grew more physical and one night she poked her dainty finger into his chest to prove her point to which he grabbed her close then threw her with all of his power, sending her falling backwards and hard into the railing for the staircase; almost instantly causing a concussion, coming close to the brink of losing consciousness.
He looked at her with such cold eyes that she wanted to cower in fear, he shook his head at her then left for a night down at the bronze with the boys. Once the door slammed shut she pulled her knees to her chest and gripped onto the bump on her head, her face drenched in tears.
He came back the next day with a bouquet of flowers, telling her he just lost his temper and that it was a one off – of course he was explicit that it was her fault for trying to harm him and not just his fluctuating temperament.
She began to think that it WAS all her fault, she hadn't been able to maintain a relationship up until she met him, so it couldn't be entirely his fault. Whilst he was at work she had gone to the store and came back before breaking down in tears.
She had procured the divorce papers the night before and had stashed them so that he couldn't find them as she was sure he was going through her belongings when she wasn't around, she was waiting for the right moment to hand them over; now she had the best reason.
That simple bit of plastic that sat on her dresser told her what she had suspected, she was late, she had messed up on her birth control, she was with child. It should have scared her but didn't, being a mom was something she yearned for.
This baby would be the one good thing that would come from this disastrous relationship, she would have someone that truly loved her and she would love the baby. She discarded the test carefully then smiled for the first time in weeks.
Just like the previous times he had come from full of drink, the smell coming off him was strong and his bleary eyes struggled to hold a glare at her. Full of determination she began her well thought speech of how she was leaving him, the look in his eyes was full of surprise.
He had argued that one way or another she was stuck with him, till death do they part, she was his wife and wouldn't make a fool of him by leaving, she wasn't getting out that easily. She knew the instant when she called him weak that it was the wrong thing to do.
That night he subjected her to a horror she never thought he was capable of, once he was done he rolled off of her and fell asleep instantly. Dragging her bruised and bleeding body to the bathroom she huddled in the corner of the shower and cried for over an hour.
The next morning he had acted as if he hadn't forced himself on her the night before, he kissed her lovingly which she done her best to refuse then told her they were going out for breakfast. Even in his drunken state he knew that keeping her face untouched was a smart idea.
As he spoke of words of love as they drove she felt bile rise in her stomach, her aching hand clenched into a fist and she ground her teeth together; she wasn't letting what happened to her be the thing that stopped her from getting out.
"Riley, I want a divorce" his head whipped round to meet hers in abject horror, he argued that she could have a day or two alone to think about what she had done but there was no way in hell that she was walking out on him.
Finding courage she began to yell back at him for the first time, she was beyond just letting things lie and letting life pass her by. It was her time; she had to think not only about herself but about the baby that was nestled in her womb.
Riley had yelled something at her then darkness – her head was fuzzy as was her sight, she could hear the strangers voice, they were asking her name, what was sore and if she could move her legs and arms.
She had spent the full day in the hospital room, doctors had been in and out, she had been for scans, came back, left alone then her mother came to see her in a panic. After a brief talk with Joyce the doctors had asked for some privacy.
They hadn't mentioned anything about the bruises that he had inflicted, the crash took over, the wounds from that were greater than the man made ones. They had told her gently that her husband didn't make it to which she remained silent.
At first she was full of relief at not having to face him again, the next words out of the doctors mouth sent her crashing down, her baby hadn't - they knew that she was in the early stages of pregnancy as she had managed to tell the EMT en route to the hospital.
She begged them not to tell her mom, she didn't want anyone to know, the doctor was concerned at first but eased when she said that this loss would hurt them and didn't need to be intensified in any way.
Given the okay she was allowed home, Joyce had took her back to her own home, knowing that she couldn't be alone that evening to which she was thankful for. It took her two days to leave her old bedroom and venture outside.
When she came into contact with the people who knew her they would give her their condolences and ask if she needed anything; it took a lot not to break down in front of them. She still had a course of prescription painkillers that took the edge off.
The edge was needed when she would see happy couples push a pram past her with their baby, the look of love on their faces and the happiness at strolling with their offspring, it was all too much. In a haze from the pills she ran a bath and lit some candles.
Carefully she stepped into the tub and wrapped her arms around her knees, the warmth of the water helped to ease her still aching body and relax her weary muscles. The silence in the room eventually got to her, her mind that had been preoccupied was now clear.
It was clear as day, the events of that night, the argument and the aftermath of the crash came back to hit her at once; practically smashing her into the ground. Slowly she put her head in between her knees and under the water and paused.
The sound of the water against her ears took the silence away but didn't help; she let out a mighty screen underneath the water. Letting out all the hurt, all the pain, she screamed until her lungs gave out, burning from the act.
She whipped her head back once the water tried to gain entry and took a ragged breath, she stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her body then faced the mirror, looking at her reflection sickened her, she screamed again and rammed her fist through the medicine cabinet.
Blood was gushing out of the wounds on her knuckles and the cut dangerously close to the vein on her wrist; she held her hand up and inspected the wounds with detached fascination, like the hand she was looking at wasn't her own.
"Buffy?" as Dawn burst into the bathroom, concerned by the smash of something, she gasped in shock at the blood running down her sisters arm "Buffy are you okay?" her sisters vacant expression confused her, why wasn't she responding? "MOM!"
Buffy slowly walked out of the bathroom and down to her room, they had agreed to come back to her home thinking that it would help her but it didn't, when she looked at the bed she shared with him she picked up a photo frame and threw it at the wall.
Joyce came running upstairs to the panicked cry of her youngest then halted in her tracks at the blood trail that led her to Buffy "Buffy honey, what's wrong?" she didn't reply as she picked up one of his golf clubs and swung at the armoire, at the host of picture frames, at anything.
The pain in her right hand became too much and she let go of the club and crumpled into a heap on the floor. Joyce told Dawn to call an ambulance as she crept over to her other daughter; Buffy was cradling the injured arm to her chest as she let out a heart wrenching cry.
She placed her hand on her daughters shoulder unsure of what to do; she wanted so much to comfort her and didn't know how. Buffy curled up into a foetal position then cried until she lost her voice, by the time the Paramedics arrived she was silent.
They asked her how she was feeling and if her arm was still hurting, carefully they extracted the mirror fragment and bandaged up her hand so they could take her to the hospital. The senior paramedic flashed his light in her eyes and grew concerned by the lack of response.
Not to alarm her already upset mother and sister he said that they would have to take her into the hospital and keep her overnight, when Joyce mentioned that she had recently lost her husband he nodded; now he was fully concerned that this was done on purpose.
With the help of Dawn, Joyce managed to get a pair of pyjamas on Buffy so she could be taken to get her arm fixed "It'll be okay baby" she choked back a sob as she looked at her, Buffy had yet to move or even acknowledge anyone around her.
All Buffy done was stare at one spot, she didn't want to look at anything or anyone, nothing she could do would bring her baby back. She had nothing left to give.
When they arrived at the hospital they bypassed the ER and headed straight for the Psych Unit, Joyce questioned them to which they said that it was for the best. The last thing she seen that night was Buffy being pushed through the secure doors which were then locked to the public.
The paramedics made a futile attempt to get her to speak on the journey in, Joyce had seen the swift looks that they gave each other, seeing Buffy lying almost paralysed on the gurney, her eyes so dull and lifeless; she let out a sob and closed her eyes.