Chapter 24
Isabella
“Damn it, Isabella, I told you this would happen. That man is a freaking scumbag! You should press charges immediately,” Maya shouted over the phone.
I continued to nurse my black eye. In the beginning, I’d tried to hold off on telling her anything. The last thing I wanted to hear was I told you so, but those were the first words that flew out of her mouth. With every detail I revealed to her, an I told you so followed. I knew I shouldn’t have called her, but there wasn’t anyone else I could confide in. Dante was on his way back to the US on my account, and I didn’t want to trouble him any more than I already had.
Maya demanded to know which hotel I was staying in after I told her what happened. If she saw the bruises on my body and face, she might flip out. She was begging me to file a police report and get a restraining order against him. I just needed some time away from him. And he needed a little time to cool down and sober up.
After her endless nagging, I gave her the address to my hotel just to prove to her that he didn’t hit me all that much. She didn’t believe me and wanted to see it with her own eyes. I had yet to tell her Dante was also on his way here, so I guessed I would let her know when she got to the hotel. It seemed as if these two really cared about my well-being. I hoped Oliver didn’t mind postponing our meeting tomorrow. I needed to work things out here before anything else, and I also needed time to heal.
When I thought back to why this even happened, the only thing I could reflect on was that all my business trips were upsetting him so much that he got drunk and took his anger out on me. I supposed I could talk it over with Maya when she got here. My brain was scattered, and I wasn’t sure what I should do. I was still shaken by the fact that he hit me. I just couldn’t believe it. As I went over to the sink to wash my face, my doorknob wobbled from a heavy-handed thump.
I opened the door, and without saying a word, Maya rushed into my room, taking hold of me. She moved my hair away from my neck and pulled my blouse off my chest and shoulders, looking for bruises.
No matter how many times I told her I was all right, she refused to take my word for it and continued to search. With her hands all over my body, I wondered if she was planning to give me a cavity search right there. She noticed the bruises on my lip and eye and gasped.
“I can’t believe that fucking asshole did this to you.”
“He was drunk, Maya. He was just a little upset.”
“Are you out of your damn mind? A little upset is when a man gives you the silent treatment. Beating you black and blue is well beyond the realm of a little upset. You should have him arrested. Call the police, right now,” she exclaimed before handing me her cell phone.
I stepped back from her and went into the bathroom. “I don’t want to involve the police.”
She shook her head. “You’re not in your right mind, Isabella. How could you allow him to do this to you?” She looked worried for me, and I could understand why.
“It was only this once, Maya. I’m sure he’ll never do it again. He was just drunk, and he’s been under a lot of pressure with me being gone so much.”
“Him . . . under pressure? Are you kidding me right now?” she asked with a baffled look. She seemed more fearful than I was.
“I promise you, Maya, I’m all right,” I said, trying to calm her. She sat on the bed and pulled out some tissue from her purse to wipe away her tears. This really must have affected her because I never thought she would get this emotional over a little fight my husband and I had.
“He didn’t hit me that much. He just screamed at me and wanted to have sex, but I said no. When I said no, he stopped.”
“He didn’t hit you that much? Isabella, you have a black eye and a cut lip!”
“When I ran up the stairs to pack a bag, I tripped and fell on one of the steps.”
“You tripped and fell,” she said sarcastically.
“Yeah. He just wanted to have sex, and I refused. It was only this once.”
“The fact that he forced himself on you is unacceptable, Isabella. The fact that he put his hands on you is unacceptable. How many times did you have to say no before he stopped?”
I fell silent, knowing if I told her what really happened, she would overreact. “Just once,” I said with my eyes down.
“Isabella, look me in the face and tell me the truth. I can tell when you’re lying,” she said sternly.
“All right, I told him to stop multiple times. It wasn’t until I started hitting him on the head that he slapped and punched me in the face. It looked like he was enjoying hitting me because after I had begun kicking and screaming, he started laughing. He also mentioned something about a pain room.”
Maya balled up her fists and stood from the bed. “A pain room?”
“Yes,” I said nervously.
She put her head down and sighed. I could tell by her demeanor another one of her I told you so’s was coming. She sat back down and put her face in the palms of her hands. I couldn’t do anything but stand and look at her, waiting for her to say something.
“Isabella . . .” she said in an exhausted voice.
“Yes, Maya,” I answered. She continued to sit there, covering her face with her hands, saying my name over and over again as if she could foretell what I was going to say.
“You have to leave him. Do you understand me, Isabella? You have to! Don’t ever get into the habit of making excuses for his behavior or lying about what he’s done to you. That’s how women end up dead.”
I was taken aback. “He’s my husband, Maya. I can’t just leave him. He was drunk—we all make mistakes.”
“We all make excuses, too, and here you are making excuses for him once again. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you. I love you, girl. You have to leave this unhealthy marriage before it’s too late.”
I could see the sorrow in her eyes. I’d never known she was in an unhealthy relationship before; that had never come up during our lunch breaks or our evenings out. I guessed we all kept our secrets.
“What unhealthy relationship were you in?” I asked.
“Nothing . . . Never mind.”
“Oh, no. You opened this door. Now you’re going to have to walk through it. What happened to you?”
“I thought we were supposed to be talking about you and your problems.”
“We already did. Now tell me about your relationship. What happened?” I asked more forcefully. Her reluctance was evident when she put her things back into her purse and tried to leave. I blocked the door and held my arms out, forcing her back into the room.
“Isabella, come on now,” she said, trying to push me out of the way. I grabbed her purse and ran out to the balcony, then dangled it over the edge.
“I’ll drop it if you don’t sit back down and tell me what happened,” I threatened.
“All right! Just give me back my purse,” she pleaded. I threw her purse onto the bed after she took a seat on the floor near the television. I sat on the bed and guarded her purse just in case she decided to make a break for it.
“We tell each other everything. You can tell me what happened. No judgment will come from me, and you know that.”
She tucked her legs into her chest and faced me. “Fine. It was two years ago. I met this guy at a bar downtown. We were together for about eighteen months. In the beginning, he was so kind, sweet, and gentle. I was falling in love with him. He could talk. I mean, this man was such a smooth talker. I melted like butter whenever he’d whisper in my ear. Every time I saw his face, my heart would beat fast, and I would revert to acting like a love-struck teenager. It wasn’t until about five months into our relationship that I started to see the signs he was a narcissistic bully, serial cheater, and sadist. He’d begin to accuse me of cheating, and he demanded the passwords to my phone and computer and the keys to my apartment. I was so in love with him. I gave them all up willingly, without argument.
“He’d have these episodes where he was the kindest man you’d ever want to meet, then five minutes later he’d be screaming at me for no reason at all. He’d kick me out of his apartment and threaten to call another girl to have sex with, just to make me jealous. It got to a point where I would be afraid to answer his calls. But I knew if I didn’t, he would leave insane voice messages accusing me of being with another guy. I would make excuse after excuse for him, blaming myself, saying I must have done something to set him off, or that he was drunk, or some other foolishness to convince myself to run back to him.
“It wasn’t until he saw me talking to one of my guy friends at Starbucks that he went totally psychotic. He invited me over to his apartment and told me he had a surprise for me. When I walked through those doors, I entered a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Without saying a word, he punched me in the face, and then slapped me repeatedly. He called me every name you could think of. When I woke up the next morning, I was chained to his bed in a puddle of blood. He raped me for hours and beat me with chains and whips.
“When it was over, the only words he said to me before leaving me for dead were, Sluts deserve cuts. Then he threw pictures of himself having sex with all these women in my face. He got dressed and left me there, bloody and naked. If it weren’t for his neighbor who heard my screams, I probably wouldn’t have made it. Do you remember that time I called you and said I was going on vacation for a while? Well, I was actually in the hospital that whole time.”
“Dear Lord, Maya, I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?” I was both heartbroken and speechless by her story. I couldn’t believe she would keep something like that from me.
“I was ashamed and embarrassed,” she said. I sat there stunned. I couldn’t believe she went through that. Of all the things that could happen and of all the things she could have kept from me, this definitely wasn’t one I’d expect. “Now do you see, Isabella? You have to leave him. Don’t let that happen to you. I beg you.”
She grabbed my knees and pleaded with me, but I knew my husband, and I knew he would never do something like that. Her situation was entirely different from mine, as my husband and I had known each other since we were kids, and I was confident he could never do something like that to me.
“Did you seek counseling?” I asked. Without saying a word, she just stared at me. She wasn’t very forthcoming about what happened afterward, but I was sure she would tell me when the time was right. I just hoped that bastard was behind bars.
She grabbed my knees again. “That was in the past. We need to focus on you right now, Isabella. Promise me you’ll leave him.”
“Maya, I’ve known him since we were children. I think I know him pretty well. He was drunk, and he just needs time to cool off, that’s all.”
She stood up and looked at me with worry. I hoped she was not reflecting her own experience on me. I just wished she had told me about what happened to her sooner. We could have talked it out, found a way for her to cope with the trauma.
“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” she said. I stood up and put my arm on her shoulder, wrapping it around her neck and pulling her closer to me. I hugged her tight, giving her comfort and letting her know she wasn’t alone.
“I’ll be fine, I swear.”
“I hope so, Isabella. I hope so.” She took her purse and put it on her shoulder. “Would you like for me to stay with you?”
I sat back on the bed. “I think I’ll be fine. Dante is on his way here anyway.” I allowed the words to slip from my mouth. I hadn’t been sure if I was going to tell her or not.
“Did you just say Dante is on his way here?” she exclaimed. She sat beside me. “There is no way I’m leaving now. Why is he coming here?”
“I told him what happened.”
She stared at me, shocked. “Tell me what he said when you told him.”
But before I could give her the details, my phone rang. It was Oliver. Why would he be calling me at this time of night? “Hold on, Maya. I have to take this. It’s Oliver.”
“Hello?” I answered. Maya frowned.
“Hello, Isabella. I heard something happened between you and Nathan. Is everything okay?”
I looked at Maya, confused. “Yes, everything is fine. How did you find out about us?”
“Maya told me.”
“I see.”
“Listen, Isabella. I know it’s hard, but I think you should go back to him and try to talk this out. As a man, I know we make mistakes. I think you should go back home and straighten things out with him. You’ll solve nothing apart,” he said. It was somewhat bewildering that he would have all this knowledge about my situation. Did Maya tell him all this before she came here? Why the hell would Maya call Oliver and tell him anything about this?
“Thanks, Oliver. But I think I can handle it from here. We’ll talk in the morning.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
“What did he want?” she said.
Again, I looked at her in confusion. “He told me you told him everything that happened.”
“I haven’t told anyone anything. I haven’t had the time to tell anyone else, and as a matter of fact, I don’t have his number, so there’s no way for me to contact him during off hours.”
“He said you told him everything.”
“I’ve been talking to you this whole time, Isabella. When would I have had a chance to tell him anything? More importantly, I have no reason to tell Oliver anything about us. We don’t even communicate socially,” she said firmly.
“Then how the hell did he know?”
“Beats me.”
I gazed at my phone and wondered. Did he just lie to me? He had never been concerned with my private life before, so why would he show concern now? I would ask him tomorrow.
“So, are you going to tell me what Dante said or not? Why is he coming here? I thought he had some business in London.” This woman lived for gossip. If I told her he became furious, it would only reinforce her notion that he had feelings for me. But I already knew the truth after our lunch date in South Korea.
“Earth to Isabella!” She waved her hands in front of my face.
“He was upset when I told him,” I said hastily.
“How upset?” she questioned. As usual, I tried to hold back information, but she always knew how to drag it out of me.
“He was just upset,” I said again.
“I see.” She gave me a suspicious yet delighted grin. I already knew what was going to come out of her mouth.
“Don’t say it,” I exclaimed before she could say a word.
“What?” she asked, with that same little smile adorning her face.
“You know what.” We gazed at each other for a moment. She knew what I meant, yet she would say it anyway, just to tease me. We both knew Dante had feelings for me. With the way things were going, I thought I might be developing feelings for him too. And then there was the issue of my secret admirer and his letters. I was all over the place. What I needed was sleep. When Dante got here, I would try to find out how he truly felt about me.
I’d wanted to get this off my chest since we left South Korea, and I wasn’t going to allow any more interruptions. He was going to finish the sentence he started the last time we were together. With my marriage in limbo, now was as good a time as any.