I pushed the curtains to the side and watched his sleek black sedan roll down the driveway. It already sounded like a clock was ticking in my head, counting down his return. If I was lucky, he and his pretentious car would be squashed by a semi.

I stumbled down the hall. My ankle hurt more than ever. I was exhausted. I needed sleep and a whole bottle of Advil. But there was only one thing I could think of.

I let my knees collapse when I reached the pantry. My hands pushed aside the rice and pasta until my fingers wrapped around the bottle. I popped off the top and put three pills in my mouth. One for Saturday. One for Sunday. And one for today.

The pills in my empty stomach made me want to puke. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and shoved the bottle back into its hiding spot. I didn’t have the courage to read the label. Besides, I already knew the consequences.

I wanted to scream. I had always been able to slip away before. I had never missed a day. But my damn ankle had made it impossible to quietly sneak away from my husband. I let my head fall back on one of the shelves. I needed to go to the doctor as soon as possible. My stomach churned again, threatening to send the pills back up.

All I wanted all weekend was to hear Ben knocking on my door. I wanted him to rescue me. I wanted him to see the truth and save me from the hell I was living. But he hadn’t come. I had told him to stay away and he had listened.

Ben was supposed to come today, though. I had already made up my mind to send him away. I didn’t want him to see me like this. But how else was I supposed to get to the doctor’s office? I had no car. And even if I did, I couldn’t drive with my hurt ankle. I needed to get up and get ready. Why was I so exhausted?

When I reached my room, I was completely spent. I wanted to lie down in bed and milk my wounds. For years, I had learned to keep my mouth shut. For years, I had been numb. That’s what the pills were for. I understood that now. They were supposed to turn me into the perfect wife. Screw that. This weekend had been different. I couldn’t help my sassy replies. No matter how hard I tried to behave, I just…couldn’t. I gingerly touched my shoulder. The pain was even worse than the pain in my ankle. No matter what my husband said, I didn’t deserve that. Fighting with words was one things. But I wasn’t physically strong enough to defend myself from him.

A sweater would cover it up, though, and Ben would never see the bruises. I slipped on a pair of jeans too, being careful with my ankle. The leaves were changing outside and falling to the ground. Hopefully the air was crisp. Or else I’d be sweating all day, pretending to be cold. This time I didn’t bother with fancy lingerie. There was no point. And I kept my makeup minimal. The bruise on my forehead had vanished and there was no reason for concealer. The person staring back at me was me in all my glory. That was the reason I had always had issues with men. They were attracted to my outside. But I had never made a point in tricking Ben into thinking I was good on the inside. We bickered constantly. We complained about each other. He saw what was behind my face. And I didn’t want to trick him. I didn’t want to put him in the crossfire.

But I craved Ben. I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe because when we bickered, he didn’t put his hands on me. He didn’t laugh when I cried. Most of all, though, I craved him because he wasn’t my husband. And I fucking hated my husband.

I pulled the rings off my finger, tossed them in my nightstand, and slammed the drawer shut. I was done being pushed around. Finished. It was time to find a way out. As soon as my ankle was healed. In the meantime, I needed a plan. And it had to be flawless or I’d be pulled back into hell.

A few Advil’s and a blank sheet of ideas later, I drifted to sleep at the kitchen table.

***

A rapping on the back door made me lift my head. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. He had come to the back door. There was something thrilling about sneaking around with him, knowing that if I got caught… I let my thoughts trail off. That wasn’t going to happen.

I limped to the door, the smile still glued to my face. “Top of the morning to you, Ben,” I said when I opened it.

He laughed. “Well aren’t you in a good mood this morning?” He leaned down and hugged me.

I wasn’t expecting it. Not at all. Just the tiniest bit of physical contact. Like we were two old friends that hadn’t seen each other in years. My smile vanished and my lip started to tremble. And I began to cry. Because I couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged me. Really hugged me.

“Addy?”

I couldn’t talk about it. Instead, I gripped the back of his shirt, willing him to not let go. Please never let go.

“Addy.” His voice was softer. Not a question. My name was simply a soothing sound. He was holding me like he understood. But how could he possibly understand my pain? His fingers gently touched my back, drawing me closer to him.

I was thankful he had come around back. Because I lost track of how long we stood there, our bodies intertwined. It wasn’t inappropriate. His fingers didn’t slip past my waist. He never once leaned down to place his lips upon mine. It really was like he was a friend. A friend I desperately needed.

He let me soak the front of his button-up flannel shirt. And all he did was gently rub my back.

Eventually I let my grip on his shirt loosen. I needed to say something before he started questioning me. So I gave him the only excuse I had. “It hurts.” But I wasn’t talking about my ankle. My heart hurt. It physically ached in each beat.

He slowly pulled back. “Let me take you to the doctor.”

I was relieved he didn’t press the issue. “Actually, there’s a walk-in clinic on Wesserton Street. I tried to make an appointment with my usual doctor, but he couldn’t fit me in until tomorrow. And I…”

“Let’s get you to the car.” He slid his arm behind my back.

“Could you grab my purse?” I gestured to the kitchen table. I had been ready to go for awhile.

He walked over and put it over his shoulder.

I was pretty sure that he did it so that I’d smile again. But he probably didn’t expect me to start laughing.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” he said. The smile on his face said otherwise.

“I didn’t say you had to wear it.”

He ignored me and slipped his hand back around my waist. I leaned against his strong body all the way to the car.