Living With the Choices We Make (Domestic Violence / Abuse) ✔️

18 - Reaching Out

Over the next few days, Brent stuck to me like a dirty sweater that you desperately need to keep you warm in the winter but really don't want otherwise. He was around me non-stop, fussing about every move and serving on me hand and foot. Nothing was too much for him and after a while, I gave up any form of resistance and accepted my fate. After all, this is what I had chosen and I needed to make it work. I was too scared to even think about the alternatives.

Stepping into the bathroom was now excruciating. There were so many horrible memories and in the first few days I was back home, I shuddered every time I entered but again, somehow I coped. Yet my attitude towards Brent changed. I was more jumpy, almost expecting him to leash out again at any moment, totally focused on his eyes and body language when talking to him. I was determined not to upset him again – be good like he was expecting of me.

Before, I had tried to be the woman he envisioned because I loved him and had wanted to make him happy but now, my main motive was to avoid further punishment. I convinced myself that it was up to me, secretly starting to blame myself for his outburst. His brainwashing was persuasive, if he spoke about his beating at all, he always hinted that it had been entirely my fault and Brent could be very convincing.

It was a very confusing time for me. Today, I know it was partially my age that made it so easy for him to influence me but also the fact that I had grown up without a mother and didn't really know how a relationship between a man and a woman was supposed to work. I was scared of failure and admitting that I really wasn't ready for adulthood and would have never considered running home to daddy as a result. I wanted to prove to myself and the world how mature I was.

Yet, Brent's and my time of reconciliation was bound to come to an end eventually and we had an argument on Sunday night when I told him I should schedule an appointment with Dr. Hayman, my OB/GYN.

"What do you need to see another doctor for?" he questioned. "A few days and you will be as good as new."

"Well, the hospital recommended..."

I was interrupted by his hissing voice. "I don't care what that little weasel Fallon wanted you to do. He is just trying to break us up because he has the hots for you." He frowned, his eyes a few shades darker and I instinctively recoiled.

"You are so naïve, honey," he continued. "Fallon just want your doctor to know you had a miscarriage so she can mingle in our business. You don't need to go and this is final. This is no one else's concern but ours."

"Of course you are right." The words just floated out of my mouth like he had pulled the string of a chatty doll. "Please forgive me. That was very stupid of me."

The anger vanished from his face, his eyes much milder.

"That's OK," he assured, looking exactly like my father when I used to admit I had eaten a cookie before dinner. My tension eased. I was sure my new strategy was working. Anything to avoid conflict was good.

He went to Lao Sze to get Chinese takeout and I cuddled in bed, turning on the television to watch a movie. But I couldn't concentrate. Our disagreement replayed in my mind and I felt miserable. There was an uneasiness I just couldn't shake.

I got Kade's card from my coat and glared at it with mixed emotions. I wanted to call him, just to hear a friendly voice, but I knew Brent would beat the crap out of me if he caught me. In the end, my urge to confide in someone took over. I dialed his number and he picked up on the third ring.

"Hey Kade, it's Rena Cooper."

"Rena." His concern was already audible in this one word. "Is everything alright?"