Husband by Choice

She wondered about Lila’s private life. Her family.

Wondered why she was so dedicated to this place.

And when Lila came back with her tea, curling up in one of the armchairs, Jenna took her same place at the end of the couch.

“How are you doing?” Lila asked, folding her legs beneath her as she sipped her tea, looking as if she’d be happy to sit and chat all night long.

“I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Jenna nodded. And stood up. Carrying her tea with her, she wandered the small room. Studying pictures, landscapes, she’d already studied.

“I...have a question,” she said to a photograph of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, when it seemed as though Lila would let her wander the room for the next week.

“I’ll answer it if I can.”

Jenna turned and looked Lila in the eye. “How do you know when to trust your instincts and when your mind is just playing with you?”

She’d had this down once. And she’d obviously lost some key piece of the puzzle.

“I’m not sure you ever do know for sure,” Lila said. “At least not that I’ve found.”

“But...they teach...we’re supposed to listen to our hearts, to trust ourselves, not our abusers.”

“That’s true,” Lila said, her expression dead serious as her gaze followed Jenna around the room. “Trusting yourself is a vital component to recovery and survival on the other side of abuse.”

Jenna frowned. “But....”

Lila shrugged. “The mind plays tricks on us,” Lila said. “All of us. At one time or another.”

It wasn’t the answer she’d been seeking. Nothing she’d ever heard in DV counseling in the past.

“So how do we know that we aren’t the ones to blame?” The question tore out of Jenna with such force her throat burned.

“Because no matter what you do, you are not responsible for the actions of others,” Lila returned with cold conviction. “It is illegal for someone to enact violence on another. No matter the provocation.”

Jenna agreed. But....

“There are means for handling situations where others are acting out or acting inappropriately. Even being unfaithful. There is never an excuse for violence.”

“I know.”

“But we aren’t talking about an abuser, are we?”

“I don’t know what we’re talking about,” Jenna admitted, completely deflated as she sank into the couch. She put her tea on the table and sat back, staring at the ceiling.

This self-doubt wasn’t something she was used to. Not anymore. She’d come through all of that. Was in touch with her inner self. Knew her flaws, her issues, and took responsibility for them.

“I’m sure of something, you know?” she said to the room at large. “I know it.” Steve was after her.

“But something happened today, and I reacted, certain that I knew what was going on, but I was wrong.”

She’d heard a noise in the garden and she’d been certain it was Steve.

“And what it was had never even occurred to me.”

She never would have imagined that someone might notice her picking weeds and come to help.