The Best Next Thing

He wanted a future with her. More than a future.

He wanted forever with her.

Yet every day brought them a step closer to the inevitable end of their affair.

And it was going to break his fucking heart to say goodbye to her.

“He wanted a baby.”

Her words surprised him. He hadn’t expected her to continue, and the dullness in her voice filled him with dread. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this. But he had invited the confidences and that meant listening to whatever she had to tell him. “Almost from the very beginning. But as you can imagine, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to bring a baby into that environment. I wasn’t even sure if pregnancy would have served as a deterrent to the abuse. I had a brief moment of weakness where I selfishly considered it. I fantasized that maybe a baby would miraculously fix what was wrong, and Blaine would go from this abusive monster to a loving husband and father.

“I came to my senses pretty quickly. I knew a baby would make it worse. Either he’d hurt the baby, or use it as leverage against me. And I didn’t want any child of mine to grow up in a toxic environment like that.”

Another long pause.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I stayed with him?”

“I’m not,” he replied truthfully. The thought hadn’t occurred to him. He was aware of how manipulative abusers could be. The absolute control they held over their victims.

“I was afraid of what he’d do to me if I tried to leave.”

“You don’t have to explain, Charity. I get it.”

“How are you so understanding?”

“I understand how abusive emotional manipulation works, Charity. I may not have experienced it firsthand, or even witnessed it, but the mechanics are pretty straightforward.” He played the words back in his own mind and grimaced at the dry logic of his statement. Nothing in his voice or in his words betrayed the extreme, gut-wrenching emotional wringer her descriptions of life with Blaine Davenport put him through.

Her heard her swallow. He blindly reached for her hand in the darkness, and she latched on tightly when he found it.

“He was a by the book abuser, so to speak. First made me doubt myself, made me believe that somehow if I just tweaked little things about myself, I’d be what he wanted me to be, and he wouldn’t have to punish me any longer. By the time I realized that wasn’t going to happen I was a year into the marriage and that was when he convinced me that no one would believe me if I told.”

She laughed. A bitter, joyless sound that tore at his heart. “By the third year it was clear that he just plain enjoyed hurting me. And controlling me. There was no more pretense between us, he had resorted to threats. He’d kill me if I tried to leave. He’d hurt Gracie. Faith. Anybody that I loved. And he was so evil and twisted I absolutely believed that he would.

“And through it all he kept trying for a baby. Every month when my period arrived like clockwork, he’d punish me. It was my fault. I was worthless, pathetic, dried up…I honestly hoped his desire for a child, and my apparent inability to give him one would drive him to divorce me. But he was obsessed with me. Or as he put it, he loved me too much to let me go. He’d kill me before releasing me. Die rather than lose me.”

“Did you get pregnant?”

“No. Because he was right, it was my fault I never got pregnant. For the first two months of our marriage I was sneakily taking the pill. But when he started to suspect something was up, I was forced to flush them. I got an implant instead. Under an old scar so that he wouldn’t feel it. It was the one thing he wanted above all else, and the only thing left to me that I had any control over. I knew that if he discovered what I’d done he’d kill me.”

The risk she had taken by using something as fundamental to her rights as birth control was staggering. And the sheer courage of her actions stole his breath away.

“And then, one day, my luck ran out…he saw the renewal notice on my phone…”

Tonight’s the night you die, Charity.

The words played themselves out over and over again in her nightmares. The fury in his face. The absolute fear and dread in the pit of her stomach. The certainty that her last breath was mere minutes away.

The cold, flat fury in Blaine’s eyes was more than enough to send her scampering for the dubious safety of the bedroom. But he beat her to the door, grabbed her elbow, and flung her onto the bed.

Before she could scramble away he was on top of her, straddling her.