Obsessively Yours (Joe & Ella 1)

‘You will never understand the damage you did to someone until the same thing is done to you.

That’s why I’m here.’

-Karma.

Chapter One

Five years, seven months and approximately 12 weeks. That’s how long I had devoted… no wasted my life on him; Adam Booth, the guy I thought I’d marry. We met in college when we were both 18. He was the nerdy bookworm, always studying and shying away from the crowds. I was the social butterfly, most popular girl on campus; Ella Reid always ready to party. My how times have changed! I don’t think I’d even recognise that girl now. Where has my confidence and self-assuredness gone? Well to be totally honest with you he took it; day by day, week by week, a gradual grinding down of my identity and purpose, slowly being replaced by what he wanted me to be. A perfect wife to manage his life, the ideal arm candy for any social gathering but always knows her place, or so he thought.

We met one day in the local coffee shop. He was sitting at a table, laptop open and writing an essay about a part of the human body or some diseases that prospective medical students study. I was loaded down with my bags and feeling flustered from the summer heat, panicking that it would make my naturally blonde curly hair go frizzy. It was at that exact moment, as I was blowing a stray curl from my eyes, that I crashed into the customer in front knocking their cappuccino all over the floor and making a huge spectacle of myself. One thing I’ve always been is clumsy, and this was just one in a long line of mishaps I had and still have often. The guy in front shouted and flayed his arms about, the barista joined in telling me in no uncertain terms that I’d need to pay for it all, and Adam had been the only one to come to my assistance. He paid for the guy’s coffee and brought him another one, helped to clean up the mess, and then offered me a drink and a friendly ear to take away the embarrassment that had taken hold of my beetroot red face since the whole debacle unfolded. I thought he was perfect, my knight in shining armour. A guy with principles and integrity. It’s amazing what people don’t know that goes on behind closed doors.

I started seeing Adam regularly soon after that. I shunned my friends and social circles to be with him, support him and I quickly fell in love with him and how dedicated and determined he was to become a doctor. He had such a caring way about him and he treated me like a princess. My friends hated him though, they said he was too controlling. Why wouldn’t he let me go out clubbing or dancing? What was his problem? They thought he locked me away to keep me under his command, that he was brainwashing me into some sort of clone of the perfect girlfriend he wanted. I didn’t see any of that, all I saw was someone I loved who loved me back and took care of me in a way that I wasn’t used to. He wasn’t bothered if I wore make up or not, he was just as happy with us in our pyjamas watching a movie, than going to the latest trendy club. I suppose alarm bells should have rung, when he’d give little sly comments that maybe a skirt was too short, or my outfit too sexy, but I just took it as the usual boyfriend response. Jealous, possessive and wanting to keep me for himself in a cute non-threatening way.

And so it was, over time I completely lost my life to him. My friends all drifted away, fed up of trying to talk sense into me, telling me it wasn’t healthy for me to spend all my time with one guy, and not have time for friends, social stuff or even family. I lost everyone except my two dearest and most loyal friends of all, Robyn and Chris, my saving graces and reason I am still relatively sane today. They were always there in the background, almost as if they were waiting in the wings to pick up the pieces when the shit hit the fan, and hit the fan it most surely did.

I followed Adam to university, his choice of course, as it had the best medical training in the country. My course in business studies with a focus on advertising was just a side-line, a fancy to keep me busy until we were married and I popped out some babies. He never took my studies seriously, and if I tried to talk to him about what I’d been doing he switched off or glazed over, doing that thing guys do where they pretended to listen but really they’re thinking about a ball game, or work, or in Adam’s case some nurse he’d no doubt screwed the night before.

What scares me the most is how I might never have found out, and I could have married that asshole. It was only through sheer luck that I stumbled across his laptop still open and running on his desk one night after he’d left for another long night shift at the hospital. Going in to shut it down I saw the emails first, and my heart just sank. Scrolling down and seeing the email addresses jump off the screen I thought I’d throw up. blah blah, , you get the picture. I opened one and what I saw froze my heart. Messages about the hot time they’d had after doing a night shift together, and notes to say thanks for the hook-up let’s do it again some time. There were dozens of them and not all from the same girls. I thought it couldn’t get worse until I opened one with an attachment, pictures and videos of what they’d been doing made me run to the bathroom and throw up for real this time. What the hell was going on and why hadn’t I seen this coming? Sure he worked long hours, he was months away from his first residency post. Yes he came home showered and clean but he always insisted he’d been to the gym beforehand and I had no reason to doubt him, did I?

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so trusting, but I never thought in a million years that he would do this to me. Everyone always said how besotted he was with me. On the rare occasions he took me out at night he wouldn’t let me out of his sight, but now I look back and think, was that because he didn’t want to leave me alone for someone to tell me the truth?

What I did next was out of character for me. The old me, the pre-Adam me would have smashed things, screamed and kicked off big style, but no. I did the opposite, I left the laptop where it was, went to bed and thought long and hard about my next move. I had no more fight left in me. His narcissistic tendencies had eaten me up, spit me out and left me hollow. When he came home later that morning I pretended to be asleep so I could avoid his lecherous hands. God knows where they had been the night before.

Later that morning as he slept, I printed off his emails and left them scattered all over the kitchen table along with a letter from me telling him he was the biggest piece of shit I had ever known, and that I wouldn’t be wasting another second on his sorry ass. I packed up my clothes as quickly as I could without waking him and grabbed anything else I’d need. I left the rest behind, I couldn’t get away fast enough.

It still makes my blood boil to this day to think about the last thing he shouted down to me when he awoke, as I dropped my key into the bowl on the side table and opened the door for the last time.

“Babe, I’ve got no clean socks in my drawer, did your lazy ass forget to put a wash on?” Was he serious?

“Do your own sodding laundry!” I muttered under my breath, as I pulled the door shut and strode purposefully down the path; minus my keys but definitely with my dignity intact.

Chapter Two

So where did I go from there? Well, that’s where Robyn and Chris came in. My guardian angels in dodgy Lycra and fake leather. As I said before they had always been in the background; there to listen and offer help if I needed it. Boy did I need it back then. I rang Robyn on my mobile and she answered on the third ring.

“Hey chick, what’s up? Coming out with us soon or what cuz you really need a night out you never go out like EVER…..” She laughed, and I could just picture her eyes rolling in an irritated but innocent way.

I’d known Robyn since we were five years old. She was that quirky kid in school who always stood out, you know the one who pushes the boundaries and customises their school uniform to make it look edgy and cool just because she can. She still had bright red hair, only now it wasn’t tied up in bunches or br

aids but cut short and spikey. Her frame was short and petite but what she lacked in stature she made up for in temper. Man that girl could throw a hissy fit. I had seen grown men cower when her heckles were raised. You did not want to cross our Robyn she was a force to be reckoned with. Luckily for me she never directed that anger my way, in fact she was always mega protective of me. God forbid she ever got her hands on Adam though, he wouldn’t be capable of cheating ever again if she did.

“Babes talk to me I’m freaking out here.” she said, her voice laced with concern.

“Robyn I need a favour, could I crash at yours for a few days?” I asked.

“Oh my God Ella of course you can crash, in fact you can stay indefinitely babes, you know I have a spare room and I need a roommate to share the rent. Chick…..what’s happened though…are you ok? Has that asshole finally shown his true colours? You know I will beat the shit out of him if he’s hurt you.”

“I’m okay Robyn honestly, I’ll tell you when I see you I can’t talk about it over the phone.” I sighed.

“Okay well there’s a spare key under the plant pot on the left by the front door if you want to go over now, I’ll be back about six tonight, will you be able to talk then? I’ll bring wine home with me!”

“Yeah sure” I whispered, “and Robyn….bring more than one bottle, I think we’re gonna need it.”

So that’s how I went from popular girl, to brainwashed girlfriend, to what I am now. In fact, I’m not really sure what I am now. Single girl, 24 years old and still trying to find myself, the old me, and build a life that I can be proud of. A life that doesn’t revolve around a man or his career and certainly doesn’t involve cheating loser assholes.

I’m not short and quirky like Robyn, and I’m not supermodel tall either. Five foot six and long curly blonde hair, I suppose I don’t look too bad. My friends always harped on about their body hang ups and how lucky I was not having to worry about those things. Sure I had my hang ups just like the rest of us, but I suppose my figure wasn’t one of them. I’m skinny but with good curves and boobs but that’s all genetics; Good genes inherited from my Mum’s side of the family.

My Mum is a free spirit type. She’s in her forties but looks half her age and is currently somewhere in Thailand with husband number four. Once I was old enough to walk she left me with my Nanna Jean to travel the world and ‘find herself’. She’s still looking the last I heard, but I don’t feel bitter. I got to spend my childhood with my Nanna, my hero and best friend in the whole world. I wouldn’t change a thing about my childhood but my adult life needs some serious renovation.