It was almost ten-thirty when I walked into the house. Eric followed me into the bedroom.
‘I let you meet a friend for dinner and how do you repay me? By being late. Almost two hours late!’
His face looked like a fireball and his temper was just as hot.
I figured he’d be angry I was late, but I never expected him to be so outraged.
‘Eric, please,’ I cowered. ‘I hadn’t seen Jackie in forever. We had a lot to talk about.’
He stared at me with his beady eyes. ‘Maybe you didn’t meet Jackie. Maybe you met another man. That’s it. You’re fucking someone behind my back.’
I shook my head. ‘No, Eric. I’d never do that.’
‘I paid for the breast implants you wanted,’ he screamed. ‘I bought a BMW so you could have my SUV to drive to work in the snow. I bought you a closet full of new clothes to wear and Goddamn sunflowers, which, by the way, I fuckin’ hate, just to make you happy. But there is no making you happy. You are just one big disappointment. You’re a bitch! A whore! You’re nothing. Zero! Zilch!’
My knees buckled and I fell to the floor sobbing, out of control. He circled me like a violent tornado destroying everything in its path. His beady eyes were filled with rage and his nostrils flared. My entire body shook. I feared he was going to hit me.
He stopped in front of me and bent over. His face was so close I smelled his stale coffee breath and felt its warmth smother my face. I looked down to avoid eye contact and escape the meanness and hatred that oozed from his pores.
‘Look at me, bitch. Look at me when I’m talking to you.’
I looked up, unable to speak. My lips trembled. He pointed his finger at me. ‘You have not honored me. You have not taken care of my heart. The one thing I asked you to do and you can’t even do that right. You’re worthless. You always screw everything up. You never do anything right. And who’s left cleaning up your mess? Me! I’m left picking up the pieces. You are nothing – nothing – without me. And I will decide where you go and who you see. Do you understand me?’
I managed to nod, knowing that if I didn’t give him a sign I understood the beast would grow angrier and more violent. He pointed his finger at his chest. ‘I’m your husband. You will honor and obey me. Have I made myself clear?’
My voice cracked as I answered him. He returned to circling me.
‘You know what, bitch? I’ve decided you’re not even zero. You’re less than a zero. It would take you forever to even get to zero. No, scratch that. You will never be a zero. No matter how hard you try you will never be even a zero. Look at you. You’re pitiful.’
He walked over and picked up the mirror on my dresser and shoved it in my face. ‘Look at yourself. A whore. I have a whore for a wife. I should just bang you right now. No, you’re not worth it.’
He spat in my face and stormed out of the bedroom. I collapsed in a heap on the carpet, sobbing into the fibers. I wished I were dead. At that moment, I hated him, but I hated myself more for being so weak. For weeks, I’d been dealing with his Jekyll and Hyde personality. One moment he adored me, the next I was worthless. But he’d hit a new low. I heard the garage door go up and down. He was gone. I was safe, for now. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to move. It was as if I’d been chained to the floor. I might as well have been. I was his prisoner. A zero. Unworthy of his love. Undeserving of being his wife.
I’d endured what seemed like an hour of his screaming and the resulting migraine paralyzed me. I managed to stand but my legs felt as weak as my broken heart. I wobbled to the medicine cabinet and threw two pills in my mouth. I turned on the faucet and filled my cupped hand with water. I drank the water and filled my cupped hand again. I looked into the mirror and I no longer recognized the woman staring back at me. I used to be beautiful. I used to be outgoing. I used to be more than a zero.
I managed to walk down the hallway to his office, where he kept his satchel. The night’s events had turned so ugly I thought maybe he was on some kind of drug. Maybe that’s what was in his satchel. I went to his office to see if he’d left it.
I wasn’t allowed to step foot inside Eric’s office unless he invited me, so I stood in the doorway and looked in. The bag was there. It would be so easy to walk into his office and peek inside it. He wasn’t home. He wouldn’t know. I lifted my foot to step over the imaginary wall, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The line formed by the tan hallway carpet butting against the blue carpet in the office might as well had been a brick wall. Like a dog trained to learn its boundaries, I feared that crossing that line would have terrible consequences for me.
I heard the garage door go up. He was home. I ran back to my bedroom and curled up on the floor, pretending to be asleep. A few minutes later, I heard him leave again. I ran back to the office. The brown leather satchel was gone.