He didn’t ask me how much time I’d need. He didn’t say anything at all. All he did was help me out of the bathroom.

I silently watched him go through my pantry. It wasn’t like he could find anything in there that would reveal anything else about me. He knew. He knew I was married and he was calmly going through my things.

He handed me a ginger ale. I didn’t ask for a cup or ice. I was just grateful to get the vile taste out of my mouth. I downed the soda as he watched me.

Say something. I certainly didn’t know what to say to him. I was asking him to have an affair, for Christ’s sake. The silence stretched between us.

I excused myself to brush my teeth. Not one word in the past 15 minutes besides for my exit from the kitchen. We were at an impasse. I spit out the toothpaste and brushed my tongue for the tenth time. I needed to fix this. The only way was to tell him the truth. He needed to know just how bad my marriage was. Because my marriage wasn’t based on love. It was simple, really. My husband owned me.

But how much could I tell Ben if I wanted him to stay? I needed him. It was wrong, but I didn’t see any other way. I’d tell him enough. Just enough so he’d be on my side. Just enough so he wouldn’t leave me.

I splashed my face with cold water. Ben already knew I was married and he wasn’t running. Maybe he wouldn’t leave if he knew everything.

No. I grabbed a towel and wiped off my face. No one could know the truth. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place. I’d kill my husband and my skeletons would die with him. I’d live the rest of my life in peace at last. As tempting as it was to confide in someone, the stakes were too high.

I walked down the stairs, cursing under my breath each time my hurt ankle held my weight. If I kept running around it would never heal. For once in my life I needed to stay still.

Ben looked up when I walked into the room. His cell was pressed to his ear.

And for a moment I thought he found something. I stopped, terror running through me. I had been so desperate to get into his basement. Had he been equally eager to get into mine? Unlike his basement door, there was no key required. Just a simple sliding lock.

He said my address into the phone.

I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself. They were going to take me away. “Ben, please…”

He hung up the phone and looked up at me.

God, it was too late. I didn’t want to go to jail. I was only just learning what it was like to be free.

“What?” he asked. There was humor in his eyes. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Who were you calling?”

“I ordered us some food.” He set his phone down on the kitchen table.

My hand released the doorframe and I sighed in relief.

“You should be sitting down and icing your ankle. And your shoulder. Do they make full-body ice packs?” He walked over to the freezer to examine the options.

“I think what we should be doing is talking about this.” I gestured back and forth between us.

He grabbed two ice packs and turned back to me. “What do you want me to say, Addy? Do you want me to ask where you two met? When you had your first kiss? How he proposed?” His voice was strained. “I don’t want to know any of that.”

I couldn’t make myself move. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? All I care about knowing is if he’s going to come in that door and try to beat the shit out of me. Otherwise, I don’t need any specifics.”

That was exactly the problem. Ben’s words made it hard to breathe. Every time my husband came home, he beat the shit out of me. But for Ben? It would be so much worse. What was I doing? I’d told Ben as much of the truth as I needed to. He was supposed to run away. He was supposed to save himself. But he hadn’t left. And now I held the power to save him. I couldn’t afford to repeat my past mistakes. I had lost sight of that in the face of his beauty and warmth. “I think you should go.” The words made me want to vomit again.

He lowered both his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Addy, I didn’t…”

“Really, it’s better if we put a pin on this until my marriage is over.”

“No.”

No? I repressed my smile. He was fighting for me. How was I supposed to turn him away when I had no one else on my side?

“And I do have questions.” He walked toward me. “Why does he force you to take pills? How long have you been married? What caused your miscarriage? Why did you say yes to his proposal in the first place? And why, Addy, why does talking about him make your hands shake?” He grabbed my hands in his to steady them. “I want to know none of it, but all of it at the same time. Tell me whatever you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

He's been hurting me. I’m terrified of him. And I’m so scared for you. Instead of saying anything, I buried my face into his chest. He didn’t know it, but he was putting his life on the line for me. I breathed in his grassy scent. Combined with his embrace and the softness of his flannel shirt, I felt a wave of calmness surround me. “We should probably sit down.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do.”

I laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward my family room. It was the one room in the house that didn’t feel so cold. It was also the only room that didn’t have tan walls. One week when my husband was gone, I had painted the walls a seafoam green. A very light seafoam green. So pale that it was really almost white. My husband had never noticed. It was a silent act of rebellion. It seemed fitting to talk to Ben in here.

We sat down on the couch, him on the opposite end. His distance was unsettling, but it was better like this. If his arm was slung over my shoulder while I talked, it would have been harder. He probably needed the distance as much as I did. I turned to face him, putting my legs up on the couch between us. I didn’t know where to start, so I adjusted the ice pack on my ankle.

I awkwardly cleared my throat. “My husband and I have been married for ten years. I thought I loved him for maybe…two…” I quickly met Ben’s eyes. “Two months. Not years.” My throat was dry and scratchy. “And even that? Looking back on it, it felt forced.” It didn’t feel forced at the time. But it was easy to look back now and know. Easy to see the signs. Because I knew it was all a lie.

“So why did you marry him?”

I shifted in my seat. “My mother raised me with the idea that I needed to marry up. That all I had going for me was my looks. That I was worthless unless I was some stupid trophy wife.” Resentment bubbled up in my chest. “She was furious at me for going to college. But I wanted more. And I loved school.” I smiled. I could still remember the classrooms. The smell of chalk and the wooden desks.

“What did you study?”

“Psychology.” I swallowed down my laugh. I knew it was ironic that I was the patient and not the doctor. My life had taken a horrible turn. But it was all my fault. There was no one to blame but myself.

I cleared my throat, shoving the bitterness aside. “My mother got sick during my sophomore year. We didn’t have much. I was paying for college through student loans and a waitressing gig that barely paid for books. Her medical bills were astronomical and it got to the point where she couldn’t even afford the medicine to help with side effects of treatment, let alone the treatment. I was drowning in debt.

“Growing up, I hated my mother. She never understood me. And she certainly never wanted me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

I laughed. “No. It’s true. She said it to me on numerous occasions. She blamed me for my father leaving. Everything that went wrong with her life, she put that on me. And she wasn’t afraid to voice that. But when she got sick, none of that mattered. Blood is blood. It was my responsibility to take care of her.

“I had this brilliant idea that if I found my dad, maybe he’d help me. Maybe he felt guilty for leaving. Maybe he’d suddenly care. I know how ridiculous…”

“It’s not. It’s not ridiculous to think someone would care about you.”

I swallowed hard. Ben believed in me so strongly. But I was weak. And pathetic. And so freaking stupid. “He left my mother as soon as I was born. Trust me, he didn’t care. But I didn’t really have any other options.

“I looked everywhere. But I couldn’t find him. It was like he disappeared after my birth. No records, no anything. And I was growing desperate. My studies were slipping. I was working night shifts and it wasn’t even close to enough.

“And then I met my husband.” I rubbed the spot on my finger where my engagement ring and wedding band were supposed to be. It felt good to not be weighed down by the precious metals. “He kind of just appeared when I needed him most. He was graduating in the spring and already had this amazing job lined up. He had a hefty inheritance after his parents died in a car accident a few years prior. And he was charming and such a smooth talker. He was everything my mom wanted for me.” Even if it was all a lie. “He promised me the world. He’d pay my debts. He’d pay for my mom’s treatment. He even hired a PI to help me find my dad.” God, there were so many signs.

“Sounds too good to be true.”

If only he knew. “Something like that. We got married right after he graduated. Only a month and a half after we met. I dropped out of college because he thought it was best. And I wanted to give him what he wanted so that he’d deliver on his promises.”

“Did he?”

“Yes. Every single one. My debts vanished. He started paying for my mom’s treatment and he kept looking for my dad.” I didn’t want to tell him anymore. But all of this made my husband look like a saint. I had to keep going. I bit the inside of my lip, trying to keep the demons inside.

“How is your mom now?” Ben asked, breaking the silence.

“She’s dead.” That was the simplest way to put it.

“I’m sorry, Addy.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. Nothing about her death was okay. But he was skipping too far ahead in my story. This wasn’t coming out right.

“And did you find your father?”

I looked down at my hands. “Yes.”

“Did you get to have a relationship with him?”

“I talked to him. Once.” I could still remember his eyes. I had never seen so much fear in someone’s eyes before. Except maybe my own. Sometimes when I looked in the mirror, my eyes looked just like his. “He’s since passed.” Wording it that way made me cringe.

“Addy, I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about my lack of family or their untimely demise. Ben would recognize my husband as a monster because of what he did to me. Not my family. Besides, if I was to believe my husband, it was my fault that they died. And deep down I knew that was true. I had led my husband right to them.

“None of that’s really important,” I said.

“Do you have any other family?”

I forced my hands to stay still. Because it was tempting to touch my stomach. It was tempting to remember the pain of almost having a family again. “No. It was always just my mother and me. And now that she’s gone…” I’m all alone, Ben. Please don’t leave me too.

“I’m sorry.”

I wish he’d stop saying that. I hated when people said they were sorry when they hadn’t done anything wrong. Probably because I was all too quick to say it to my husband when he was the one that needed to apologize.

“I didn’t even really mean to talk about losing my parents. What I’m trying to say…God, you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I promise I’m not going to think you’re crazy.”

He would if he knew how I lost the capability of making decisions for my wellbeing. If I told him the story about how I landed myself in a psych ward. But I couldn’t tell him about that day. Because I wasn’t exactly sure when I lost my mind. How could I tell a story I didn’t understand?

I pulled my knees to my chest, letting the ice pack fall from my ankle. “I wanted to get to know him better. I had gotten enchanted by the idea of a knight in shining armor. But I kind of dismissed how important it was to see what was beneath the metal. I had been so swept up in this whirlwind that I realized I didn’t really know the man who saved me.”

I laughed. It sounded sad and weak. Just as vulnerable as I felt. “I started asking him questions. I was curious about the roots of his last name and his ancestry. I wanted to know if he had any other family. I just wanted to know him. I didn’t even mean to pry. And I was changing my last name to his. I wanted to know what I was becoming, if that makes any sense.”

I was rambling. I didn’t want to tell Ben any more than necessary. It would just give him more reason to judge me. “But he wouldn’t talk to me about anything but work. Which was fine. I let it go. But a few weeks later, I got a certified copy of our marriage certificate in the mail. I needed it for my name change. I hadn’t looked at his parts before. I had just signed mine, eager to get on with it. So it was kind of exciting to look through it.

“There were so many inconsistencies in that document. It terrified me. A different date of birth. Even his parents didn’t have the same last name as him. I didn’t think it was odd that his family didn’t protest our elopement. Because his parents were dead and he was an only child. I didn’t have any cousins or anything either. And my mother wasn’t upset that she couldn’t attend. She was just thrilled that I was getting married. But there was something unsettling about the fact that his parents’ last names weren’t Bell.

“So I asked him about it. And he said he was adopted and that no one really knew his birth date and that it was hard for him to talk about. He immediately changed the subject.

“But I couldn’t let it go. I had this nagging feeling that something was wrong. I should have been sympathizing with him. If what he said was true then his whole childhood had vanished, you know? But I never, not even once, believed his story. Nothing was adding up. So I looked up the names of his parents and I found a phone number. I couldn’t not call it. And when I did…a woman answered. I asked to speak to her son and she said he wasn’t home. She said his name, Ben. And I know what you’re thinking…it could be a coincidence. But what are the odds that all three of them would have the same names as my husband and his parents?”

“I don’t know, Addy.” He shifted in his chair. He looked uncomfortable, but he wasn’t staring at me like I was crazy.

“I think pretty slim. So I figured he'd lied to me. About everything. Who he was, the fact that his parents died in a car crash, all of it. So I confronted him and he said he had no idea what I was talking about. He told me the same sad story about his childhood. He was so smooth, like always. And when I tried that number again to prove to him that I wasn’t lying, it was disconnected.

“But I couldn’t let it go. I was obsessed with his lies. And the more questions I asked, the more he started to change. He started throwing my own familial problems back in my face. He became cold and distant and evasive. And then…I guess I started asking one too many questions and he started…punishing me.”

Ben’s posture stiffened. “What do you mean?”

I pointed to the ice pack on my shoulder. I was pretty sure his nostrils flared. But I couldn’t be sure. “His words hurt, but I never expected him to be that way. I stopped asking questions. But he never stops.”

“He’s hurting you?”

I nodded my head.

“Addy, we need to call the police.”

“They won’t listen,” I said with a shrug. “They think I’m crazy.”

“That’s bullshit. If he’s hurting you, we can show them the evidence. I knew you didn’t injure your shoulder falling. I knew it and I didn’t press it. Come on, we’re going down to the police station.” He stood up, like our evening had been decided.

“It’s a waste of time.” I looked out the window. “I’m a clumsy housewife who has a tendency to hurt myself for attention.”

“Addy, I can vouch for you. I’m the eyewitness you need. I can help you. Let’s go down there right now and get him arrested.”

I shook my head. “Ben, there is only one way out.”

“The police…”

“No.” I didn’t want to tell him the real reason why the police wouldn’t listen. That I was crazy. He wouldn’t understand. And I wasn’t ready for him to stop looking at me like he wanted to devour me. Instead of looking at me like I was insane. “I have to kill him.”

So much for that. He was already looking at me like I had lost my mind.