Friday mornings were again with her trainer and the afternoon was scheduled as a spa day at a private women’s club. Cecilia told me she probably had lunch and spent the afternoon being groomed. I snorted. Like she needed that. She was naturally lovely and didn’t need any grooming in my opinion. Her evenings and weekends were spent either at Brian’s side at a function or alone inside her house. I shook my head. I thought I had sent her back to her life, but she simply existed in the environment she had gone back to.
Frank’s people even had a few pictures of her, taken at one of the many functions they attended. It hurt seeing how blank she looked again, devoid of emotion, her eyes always downcast. I couldn’t see any new marks on her but her clothing covered her completely. And, her glorious hair was once again rolled tightly and hidden away. She was hidden away.
I pulled a hand through my hair. The phone calls had stopped. I knew she thought she had been abandoned. I could see it in her defeated stance of the latest photo.
I just had to hold on and know it would be done soon.
I picked up a picture and traced her partially hidden face.
“Hold on just a few more days, Rabbit. We’re coming.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Rabbit
Three days. For the next three days every chance I got at the hospital or library, I called the number on the card. I had to be careful how often I went to the lounge so Bob didn’t suspect anything, but he never followed me into the staff room at either place and there was a phone in both lounges. But the number just rang and rang. A few rings each time and then nothing. It just cut off. After the first few attempts, it occurred to me that maybe the soft noise I heard meant there was an answering machine on the other end and, hesitantly, I left a message. Then another, then another…
It’s Rabbit. Please. Joshua. I need you.
Please, Joshua. I remember everything. I’m scared …
It was him, Joshua. I don’t know how long I have until he knows and I’m being watched …
Joshua … I want to come home.
Joshua … please.
Every time I called, I prayed I would hear Joshua’s voice. That he would tell me it was going to be okay. At the end of the first day, I was convinced I had written down the wrong number, but once the card was dry the number disappeared again, and even when I re-wet it nothing came up, so I had no way of checking. But I had been so careful when I wrote it down. So I kept trying. I was desperate. Today was my last day out of the house and the watchful eyes followed me everywhere. By the time Bob came to my door and informed me it was time to leave, I was completely lost and dejected.
Had he changed his mind? Did he just not care anymore?
My head felt too heavy to hold up and I slumped down in the back of the car.
If Joshua didn’t care … then I was truly alone. Nothing meant anything.
And then … I gave up.
The rest of the week passed by in a haze of sad fogginess. I did everything expected of me and acted the part of the confused, quiet wife well. My behavior was exemplary at all the functions we attended. The weekend passed by in a haze of events and duties. I slept fitfully, waking up frequently, sobbing into my pillow. My appetite was non-existent and my spirit lower than I could ever remember it being.
Monday morning, I woke up feeling un-refreshed and still groggy. I winced as I sat up and looked down at the fresh bruise on my arm. Brian’s handprint was visible on my forearm. When I had cancelled the session with the trainer yesterday, pleading exhaustion, he had lost it and berated me for several minutes. I made the mistake of standing up, thinking he was done criticizing me, and he had grabbed me, his hand squeezing painfully down on my arm to stop me from leaving. It was only my gasp of pain that seemed to bring him out of his rage before he flung me away from him and stormed out of the dining room. I had spent the rest of the day in my room, alone and frightened.
I made my way to the shower with a heavy heart, my week stretching out in front of me. It was starting again. I knew that soon enough the grabbing would turn into hitting and the hitting would escalate. I had to figure out an escape plan before he lost control. I wasn’t sure I’d survive his rages again. The months it had taken me to escape last time were a luxury I no longer had, and to make things even more difficult, I was now being watched. Somehow, I had to get away and find a way to start over. I needed to figure a way of slipping away from the eyes that followed me and escape. To where and to whom I had no idea. I had already risked Tracy, involving her with my car. I couldn’t put her at further risk. I had no one else to turn to. If Joshua didn’t want me, I wasn’t sure what to do. But I knew I couldn’t give up. I knew I had to get away from him.