“I have a child now. Things have changed.”
“Come on. That’s an excuse. Some of your friends have kids and I see them around. They ask about you. Samantha told me you never call anymore.”
He wasn’t going to believe that everything was perfect. I looked down the driveway, then back at him. “We’re going through a rough patch, but we’re working things out. Sophie needs him,” I said. “He loves her so much, and he’s good to her.”
“You can’t stay with him just for Sophie.”
“There are other reasons. You don’t understand.”
“Other reasons? Like what?”
I grabbed the rake from his hands, scraped it hard against the dirt, and kept my head lowered. “I really need to finish this.”
“You’re worried about Dad? He can get disability because of his shoulder. He hasn’t applied because Andrew told him that he needed him too much.”
I spun around. “I can’t leave, okay? I’m married. I made a commitment.” I didn’t realize I was touching my throat until I saw Chris watching, his eyes narrowed. I dropped my hand. “You should get back to work. Andrew will wonder where you’ve gone.”
“Why are you so scared of him?”
I shook my head mutely. The tears were too close. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t scared, I was fine, I didn’t need his help, but I was afraid I’d break down if I tried to speak.
“Does he hurt you? Is that it?”
I dropped the rake and walked away, heading toward the house. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t look him in the face and tell him that my husband had choked me. He grabbed my arm.
“Lindsey, stop. Talk to me.”
The sobs were building in my throat, strangling me. I didn’t want to cry. If I started, I might not be able to stop. I covered my face. He grabbed my shoulders, looked into my eyes.
“You have to tell me. You have to protect Sophie.”
“Don’t you get it?” I was almost yelling, the pain and grief desperate to come out. “That’s what I’m trying to do! He’ll take her away. He has all the money—everything.”
“I’ll help you find a lawyer. Someone good.”
I laughed bitterly. “You still don’t get it. He almost killed me last night.” I grabbed the scarf, unwound it from my neck, and pointed to my bruises.
It took a second for him to react, then his whole body erupted with rage. His face reddened, his fists clenched, and all the tendons in his neck were sticking out like a bull about to charge.
“That fucking asshole. I’m going to beat the shit out of him.”
Now I was the one grabbing his arm. “You can’t tell him you know. He’ll hurt me again.”
“Jesus, Lindsey.” He ran his hands through his hair, white-blond like mine. He looked older, suddenly—he was a man. Not my little brother anymore. “Maybe we should tell Dad.”
“We can’t. I’m scared he’ll do something to them if they try to help.”
“Okay.” Chris looked calmer. Still upset, but not like he was going to attack Andrew at his job site, and I was relieved. His gaze flicked to his truck, then back to me. “There has to be a way.…”
“I’m trapped, Chris. He watches me constantly—there are cameras. He monitors everything I do, every single day. This corner of the yard is the one place he can’t see on the cameras. The only time he’s not watching me is when he’s asleep.”
His eyes met mine. “How does he sleep when he’s drunk? Does he pass out?”
“Sometimes, but he’s restless. He wakes up if I move an inch or even roll over onto my side. I’d be too scared to sneak out—and it would be hard to keep Sophie quiet.”
“What if I have an idea?”
A few minutes later, I stood under the trees with my brother, while the wind blew leaves down around us and walnuts thumped onto the ground and my hands went cold, but I didn’t feel any of it.
I was feeling hope. For the first time in years.
Andrew gave me a card after dinner, slid it across the table when Sophie had gone into the living room to watch cartoons. I stared down at the big red heart on the front, the shiny silver embossed words. My Darling Wife. I didn’t want to open it, but he was watching me.
I read the romantic poem inside and tried not to flinch. There was a letter from a travel agent. He’d bought three tickets for Cancún, leaving mid-November. Two weeks from now.
He’d signed the card, Love always, Andrew.
“It will be good for me to take some time off,” he said. “I need to focus on you and Sophie.” He reached for my hand, held it across the table. “What do you think?”
I needed at least a month before Chris and I could put the plan into motion. It was going to be hard enough to pretend everything was okay if we stayed home. I couldn’t fake my way through a vacation. He was going to want to have sex every day. What was I going to do?
“Sophie has school.”
“She can miss a week.”