Punishment

TW: this story is centered around domestic violence, abuse, etc

After quietly closing the front door, she walked further into the entryway and dropped her bags in the nearby chair. Then, she shrugged out of her coat. Without the extra layer, she tried hard to fight off a shiver— the house was almost as cold as the air outside. It was only October, but the tips of her fingers already felt as numb as her heart.

Hearing him in the kitchen, she stepped out of her heels. Her arches ached from extended wear. As she hung her coat in the closet, she debated with herself on what to do next. She knew if she didn't greet him, he would be angry, but she decided to slip up the front staircase anyway, walking to their bedroom.

Tonight, all three of the children were out, leaving her alone with her husband. Recently, the kids had all decided that they didn't need her anymore, but she couldn't blame them. Lately, she hadn't possessed the confidence to give her eldest advice on unhealthy relationships. However, given her situation, she didn't have many pointers anymore. Months ago, Alison used to come to her for a boost of encouragement before a big test. Now, she struggled to even give herself a pep talk in the mirror.

Who had she become?

In their room, she walked straight to their bathroom. This morning, she'd missed a dose of her medication. After breakfast, she'd called the pharmacy for a refill. As always, Henry had promised that he would pick it up on his way home.

Slipping off her ring, she padded across the hardwood floor to the counter. Missing a pill had her on edge— her heart raced, her belly turned into knots, and her mind played worst-case scenarios on a loop all day. After she set her wedding band in the jewelry dish by the sink, she opened the top drawer in the middle section of the vanity. Instinctively, her hand was already reaching. When she realized that the spot between the bottle of ibuprofen and a tub of multipurpose vitamins was empty, her breath caught in the back of her throat.

"Looking for this?"

Her spine stiffened when she heard his voice— what kind of a mood would he be in tonight? Would he feel forgiving? Would he be angry? Would he treat her like his possession? She really hoped not because she didn't want to have the kind of sex that would leave her painfully sore tomorrow.

Swallowing, she turned to face him. Frown on his lips, he leaned against the corner of the doorframe. Without her morning dose of medication, she was already fighting back tears. Of course, recognizing the smirk in his eyes didn't help the matter. Seeing the orange bottle clasped in his hand, she reached out. "Thank you for picking it up for me," Elizabeth told him.

When she stepped toward him, he closed his fist around it.

"You're late," Henry said firmly.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "My day ran long."

As he studied her with a firm eye, he slipped the bottle into the right pocket of his jeans. "You're lying to me, Elizabeth." His voice was even as he pointed a finger at her chest. "I was told you left the office two hours ago."

"I— I went and walked at Meridian Hill Park," she quickly explained. "You can ask my detail."

Pushing off the frame of the door, he stalked toward her, getting into her face, but she knew better than to back away from him.

"Were you with someone else?"

"No." She shook her head, needing him to believe her. "No one."

With a certain urgency, he searched her eyes, looking to catch her in a lie. Months ago, he'd become paranoid. He'd accused her multiple times of having an affair. The accusation always came on nights like this one.

"Don't lie to me, Elizabeth." Grabbing her biceps, the tips of his fingers dug into her skin. When he began to shake her, she tucked her chin into her shoulder. "Don't lie to me," Henry repeated.

She wanted so badly to cry, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Henry, I promise," Elizabeth whispered.

Letting her go, he backed away.

Arms throbbing, she asked, "Can I please have my medicine?"

Without a word, he pulled the bottle from his pocket, staring at it and then at her. "No, you've been bad today," Henry said firmly before he turned on his heel.

"But you can't—"

He whipped around. "I can't?" Arching one brow, he met her eye, daring her to continue. "I can and I will."

"Please," Elizabeth begged, tears in her eyes.

Months ago, she'd learned that she wasn't above begging, not with the threat of what he could do, of what he could withhold.

"We'll see if you've learned your lesson in the morning," he told her, pulling the door closed.

"Henry!" Rushing forward, she reached for the doorknob, but he'd already slid the lock into place. "Henry, please!" She yanked at the knob repeatedly, over and over until the metal left marks on her hands. "Please! Oh please, Henry!"

Openly crying now, she slipped to the floor, pulling her knees up against her chest. The mascara she wore was too expensive to run, but, after a long day on the seventh floor, her foundation was sure to give way. Still, she didn't bother wiping her eyes.

"Please," she whispered, choking over that one word.

He'd locked her in their bathroom once before. After a state dinner in August, he'd accused her of making eyes at Italy's prime minister. When they'd arrived home, he'd dragged her by the arm up the stairs. That night, she'd decided that she preferred having the kind of sex that would leave her painfully sore the next day to being kept in their ensuite overnight.

Losing her breath, she sobbed into her knees.

God, she needed to eat dinner, so her head wouldn't ache in the morning. And she craved a mug of her favorite blend of sleepy-time tea. If she wanted to function at the office tomorrow, she needed to sleep in a bed. Most importantly, she needed her medication.

Even after living through the last six months, she still couldn't believe that Henry would do this to her— pulling her hair, grabbing her hard enough to leave bruises, and forcing her to have sex. That wasn't even the worst of it… Lately, he never asked her about her day anymore. He'd stopped hugging her. And he hadn't told her that he'd loved her in weeks.

Who had he become?

Feeling her chest tighten, she tried to take a deep breath, but it felt impossible because there was no way out and there was no one to help. She would be stuck in here until the morning when Henry finally decided to unlock the door.

She began to shake.

A few minutes passed before she felt a buzzing at her hip— her cell phone! Oh, good God, her cell phone. Usually, Henry took it from her at the door, but, since she hadn't greeted him downstairs, she hadn't given him the chance. Luckily, he'd probably assumed it was in one of the bags she'd left in the chair.

Pulling it from her pocket, she pressed her ear against the door, listening for her husband. After she made sure he wasn't in the bedroom, she frantically dialed a familiar number.

"I need help," she whispered once the line picked up.

Later, when she heard footsteps outside the bathroom, her stomach flipped. Still shaking, she quickly stood and backed herself into the furthest corner from the door. Hearing the lock unlatch, she squatted down.

"Elizabeth?"

His voice made her heart skip a beat.

Looking up, she met Blake's brown eyes. Wearing the thinnest of smiles, he knelt beside her. Then, he offered her his hand.

"I— I'm sorry," she cried.

Helping her up, he told her that she had nothing to apologize for, that Henry would never lay another finger on her, and that eventually, she would get the proper help she needed to get past this, but, for now, he would stay here, holding her hand, for as long as she needed.

"It's going to be okay, Elizabeth," Blake whispered into her ear as he led her over to the bed.

Sitting on the edge, she melted into his arms. Without the fear of facing the wrath of her husband, she leaned into him, practically draped across his lap.

"I'm right here," he cooed, stroking her hair.

When someone grabbed her hand, she flinched. Turning her head, she realized that Nadine was there too, kneeling in front of them.

"You're safe now," she told her.

"I just couldn't do it any longer." She loved Henry so much that it hurt, but she couldn't keep letting him hurt her. "I just couldn't," she repeated, tucking her face into the crook of Blake's neck.

"And you don't have to," Nadine began.

"Not anymore," Blake finished.