Noah

I sit next to Sunday on the porch swing. The mood is heavy, and her emotions are high. I can practically feel the outrage, anguish, and despair radiating off her.

“I got married young,” Sunday begins.

But I interrupt, “You don’t have to do this. Brazen’s right; you don’t owe me any explanations. I just want to know you’re okay.”

“I like you, but I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for him. I owe Brazen the world, and I don’t want to make anything in his life more complicated. Him keeping this from you will make things harder between you two.”

There is so much conviction in her voice that I have no choice but to let her continue.

“I was too young when I got married, and I hadn’t known the person I was dating long enough. I married him at nineteen after only knowing him for four months.” Sunday’s eyes are closed as she speaks. I’m not sure if she’s trying to remember or forget. “I got pregnant almost immediately after we began dating. I was scared and came from a strict Catholic family. Matt proposed to me, and I didn’t give him an answer right away, but my parents gave me an ultimatum.”

I take Sunday’s hand as she trembles.

“Marry Matt and make things legitimate, or they would disown me.” She shakes her head and blinks the tears out of her eyes. “So, I married him. I liked him, and our relationship was going well. I was pregnant with his child. At the time, I thought that we’d grow to love each other, and in pleasing my parents, everyone would end up happy.”

“But that didn’t happen?” The answer is abundantly obvious, but I guess one never knows what to say in a difficult situation. My heart breaks for her and the impossible situation she was put in.

“No, happiness was gone from the moment I said, ‘I do.’ Once I was locked in, Matt changed. He became demanding and controlling. His behavior escalated fast, and I knew pretty quickly that I had made a huge mistake.”

“I’m sorry, Sunday. You couldn’t have known though. You just wanted to have a family and one that included your parents.”

I’m starting to understand why Brazen was protecting her story so fiercely. He’s a good man, and his relationship with Sunday proves that.

“Don’t be sorry for me. It doesn’t do anyone a bit of good. Everyone goes through shit.” She pulls her hand from mine and runs it through her hair. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes once again. “I lost the baby. She died during childbirth. This sweet, innocent little human altered my life completely, and she never even lived long enough for me to hear her precious cry.”

I reach out for Sunday, wanting to pull her into a hug and tell her that everything will be okay, but I settle on putting my hand on her leg as I try to fight back tears.

“A week after I left the hospital without my little girl, Matt beat me for the first time. He blamed me. He said I didn’t eat right during the pregnancy and didn’t take care of myself well enough, which was crap. He’d monitored everything I ate and everything I did. To avoid fights, I’d followed his every direction during my pregnancy. He said I wasn’t strong enough to bring his child into the world and that I had killed our baby.”

“Sunday, he was wrong. You don’t believe those things, do you?”

“No, I don’t now. If anything, if it was something during the pregnancy that harmed our baby, it was all the stress he put on me to be perfect. But, as he beat me in the pink nursery that I had meticulously set up for my firstborn child, yeah, I did let his hateful garbage seep into my mind.”

“I want to kill him.” I’ve never said something like that about anyone, let alone someone I’ve never met, but Sunday’s husband is truly a horrible monstrosity of a man.

“Honestly, Noah, I’ve contemplated that idea many times. I’m pretty sure Brazen has, too. That day, as Matt beat me until I couldn’t see, couldn’t walk, and couldn’t even breathe, I knew, even if I lost my parents, I couldn’t stay with him. As he hit me and kicked me, I got lost in my head, planning my escape.

“I left him two months after that day, and my parents haven’t spoken to me since. Matt, however, won’t sign the divorce papers and has done everything in his power to keep us together on paper. I have a restraining order against him. I’ve increased security at my home. I’ve gone to the police. None of it matters. He doesn’t care about consequences, and nothing I’ve thrown at him sticks.”

“You left him, and he’s still hurting you?” I ask, feeling pained, wondering why she didn’t go to the cops this time.

All the evidence they need is on her face, which I would think would be enough to get him locked up on domestic abuse. I don’t ask. The last thing she needs is me prying into places she doesn’t want me to pry.

“Despite everything I’ve done to prevent it, he always seems to find a way to get to me. I came home the other day, and he was in my house. Just sitting on my couch, as if that was where he belonged. He screams, he manipulates, he orders me to come back to him, and then eventually, he lets his fist do the talking. I’ve left the marriage and him, but every time he puts his hands on me, the beating gets a little worse. I’ve felt very helpless for a long time.”

“How are you going to make it end?”

It has to end. Before it’s too late. Before Matt kills Sunday.

“Honestly, Noah, I don’t know. Maybe it never will.” She attempts to hide the bruising on her face while she makes that admission.

“Don’t say that. You can’t live your life like that.”

“I’m not living at all. My life, other than my business, has come to a complete halt. I can’t date or really even maintain healthy friendships. I even tried to push Brazen away for a while, but he knew exactly what I was doing and wouldn’t have it. I made a decision at nineteen while I was scared and pregnant, and that decision is still dictating my every move.”

My heart breaks. It cracks for this woman.

“What can I do to help?”

“If you care about Brazen, if you think you might love him or could one day love him, then take care of him. Never take him for granted, and help me to get his mind off my shit. Brazen has shouldered my burdens long enough. I want him to be happy. I think you might just be the girl to finally steal him away from me, and I couldn’t be more relieved that you’re finally here.”

“I don’t want to steal him from you, Sunday. I want him, but I don’t want to take him from you.”

She looks me in the eyes for the first time today. “Brazen will always be in my life, but I need him to focus less on Matt. I need him to stop putting his life on hold. I need him to start living his life.”

“Is he in danger?” I ask. Worry takes root in my stomach.

“I don’t know. Matt knows how much Brazen means to me. He knows losing him would destroy me, and he also knows Brazen won’t rest until Matt is completely out of my life. So, my gut tells me that, yes, those things put Brazen in danger. But, realistically, I think it’s less of a physical danger. He prefers his victims to be smaller than him, but he’d find a way to punish Brazen if he wanted to.”

I end the topic of Brazen’s safety. When I see the bruising on Sunday’s skin, I can’t think about Brazen being hurt like that—or worse. Sunday just bared her deepest and darkest to me because she cares about Brazen’s relationship with me. She’s shown me that she definitely doesn’t want to be a wedge that sits between us. I already knew that though.

“I won’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, but I do understand parents that make decisions for us. My mom made a big one for me, and I’ve yet to come to terms with her choices, which I guess is part of growing up—finding forgiveness and then healing. Your parents were wrong to shun you like they have.”

“Thanks. I’m just happy I have Beth. The whole thing with them was hard, but it would have been a lot harder without Brazen’s mom.”

“Have you tried to talk to your parents?”

“Yeah, I tried for years after I left Matt. I would call and show up at their house. I turned up one day after he’d beaten me, so they could see my bruises. But their religion is just more important to them. My leaving Matt is a sin, and that’s all they care about.”

Idiots. How could they want their daughter to stay with a man who hurt her?

I guess, out of anybody though, I should understand parents who are selfish.

Sunday and I share a commonality of abandonment that I wish no child ever felt.

My mom wrote to me only a short time ago. The letter is upstairs in a drawer, unopened. Hearing Sunday’s story about her parents shutting her out makes me think about finally opening it, but just because my mom reached out to me, it doesn’t mean all can be forgotten. There is a time and a place for everything, and today on this porch isn’t the time for me to go looking for my forgiveness for my mother.

This is about Sunday.

And Brazen.

And everything they’ve been struggling with for years.