In daily living, there are different considerations for the definition of silence. Some people consider the absence of technological noise silence. Some consider whispering silence. Others, total absence of noise is silence as defined by the dictionary. But where there lives a heartbeat, can never exist true silence.
A heartbeat is a rhythmic sound. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. It's heard at the very door of the eardrum. That's why it's so loud. So clear. When all other noises are gone, such as television, music, animals, traffic, for example, the heartbeat is the loudest thing on the planet. It's so loud, it could wake a person. So it would seem.
That's what must have woken her from her slumber. It was the first thing she heard. Her own heartbeat. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. Rhythmic, strong, steady. Then, the conscious inhalation of breath. A slight whistling noise dragging through the nostrils, disbursing into the lungs and exhaled on a sigh. Finally, the cold. But cold is silent. Silent until it causes teeth to chatter and limbs to twitch.
Trinity's arm jerked from the bone chill that coursed through her and tapped porcelain hard enough to cause her funny bone to zing. The rattle of the plastic blinds above her head caught her attention and registered with her brain the window was open. Cold air poured into the bathroom covering her like a blanket. The bathtub her bed.
He left her to freeze to death over the course of the night. In the fetal position, she flexed her feet to feel an inch worth of water swish under her body. The rest must have drained until her arm managed to form a stopper.
It was a wonder her heart was beating so amazingly strong and not frozen from the cold. Hell, it wasn't too late. Maybe pneumonia would settle in. Gingerly, Trinity uncoiled her body and struggled into a sitting position. She needed to get the window closed. She needed to get out of the blasted tub.
Hindsight was twenty twenty. She should have taken the good doctor up on his offer. She wouldn't be in this position if she had. Maybe, or maybe she already was in a good position. She was alive after all.
Summoning all of her strength, she hoisted herself up and managed to wrangle the window shut. Her fingers clung to the sash a moment before pushing away. She needed to assess her throbbing face. It felt raw and blistered.
Closing her eyes and swallowing hard, she opened them to see her skin was in fact very red and blistered in a few areas. A slight tap to one blister caused it to pop open. A clear liquid trickled down her cheek. Trinity grimaced with a whimper, pressing her fingertips against the onion thin case the blister left behind.
There were five more blisters just the same, easily giving way under the lightest of touches. It was probably a bad idea to probe at them, but she had to. If David saw her like this, it would cause more problems.
Pulling open the cabinet drawer, she sifted through the junk and thanked the heavens when she found some antibiotic cream and a half empty tube of green goo normally used on sunburns. This would have to do. Perhaps later she could apply some cool packs.
Cleaning up her mess on the counter along with the water on the floor from her dripping clothes, she realized David wasn't home. She could tell. It felt like mid-morning or early afternoon. Either way, she needed to get the house and dinner organized. It didn't matter her hand ached fierce, and her face burned like the sun kissed her far too hard. A few ibuprofen and ignorance would have to tie her over. There was work to be done. She had to go to the store as well.
She remembered she was going to make her homemade chicken soup today. Had she told him she was going to make that? Because she couldn't remember, she would have to. What would she need for it? One whole chicken, celery, carrots, onion, chicken broth, poultry seasoning, tortellini noodles. Also, an Italian bread with butter would be nice. Was there anything else?
Trudging back up the stairs to the bedroom, stopping once to settle her spinning head and stomach, she tried to focus her mind but couldn't seem to get it to work. No matter. Maybe once at the store, she'd remember. For now, she needed clean clothes.
After dressing, Trinity made herself a cup of coffee, to ward off her chill. She winced drinking the hot liquid too fast. Despite it, she took a few more sips before grabbing her keys and purse. Once in the car, she rummage around in the glove box for her sunglasses. She would need to make sure to have them on.
Maybe if people happened to look at her, they would think she just came back from vacation. A hot one. Hell, who was she kidding? She looked like she'd been through it. Maybe she should have put on some makeup. Yeah right. Makeup over her ointment greased face? What a joke.
With the car parked near the front entrance of the store, she opened the glove box again for a brush. How could she have forgotten to brush her hair? Shit. She even forgot to brush her teeth. She forgot everything. Brain cells must have died from the dunking she endured, she mused.
"Fuck!" Trinity groaned when the brush hit her scalp too hard. If her face was burnt as bad as it was, her scalp had to be the same. Tossing the brush down, she decided to finger comb her hair instead.
How was tonight going to go? Was he going to pretend nothing happened? That's what she planned on doing. Maybe she would even buy some flowers for the table. Make things look cheery and bright. How did her hair look? Checking the rearview mirror, it seemed to look okay. Naturally wavy hair definitely had its perks. Disguising a disheveled appearance for one. At least that's what she liked to believe.
Shrugging, Trinity grabbed her purse. Every muscle seemed to cry out with any move she made. Interesting how she was moving at all. At least no one would notice because no one knew her. So that was a good thing.
Once inside, Trinity grabbed a shopping cart and headed to the produce section. Much to her disappointment, the sunglasses were going to have to go. Despite the fluorescent lighting, it was hard to see with the glasses on. Into the purse for now. Alright. Carrots, celery and onion. Perfect trifecta to cooking. Anything was tasty with those three base vegetables. That's what her mother taught her.
Memories flooded to the forefront. Her mother started motherhood so late in life having Trinity at fifty. Why did she wait so long? Now her mother was in her seventies and retired with her father down south where the weather was warm. It was clear she had been an accident child. Her parents weren't too invested in her. Except when it came to food. That was the only time Trinity ever had an opportunity to bond with her mother. Her mother would cook and Trinity would watch.
Anyone lucky enough to try Trinity's cooking raved about it. It was the one thing she was proud of. Too bad she didn't have her own family to cook for. Instead, she had David. Too bad he turned out the way he did.
What else did she need? Oh yeah. A whole chicken and noodles. Moving was so exhausting. It escaped her attention the looks she received from the produce section until she turned for the meat counter. Yeah, yeah, the face was burned. Go ahead and stare. Jeeze. Hadn't their parents taught them staring was rude?
Where were the fucking noodles? Fresh tortellini was not in the grocery aisle. It would be in the refrigerated section. Duh. The brain definitely wasn't functioning right. That's okay. It'll catch up. Before heading there, the Italian seasoning should be in the next aisle over. Right? May as well go look.
A few people in the aisle grabbed their items and left until it was herself and another man with his back towards her. Good. Stay turned away. Don't look at me, she thought. Wait. Crap. The Italian seasoning was way up high. Too high. The man's tall. He would definitely be able to reach it. She didn't want to ask for help. But no seasoning meant another night of hell. One she wouldn't be able to handle. Better ask before he leaves!
"Um...excuse me, sir?" her voice rasped in a whisper. Her throat felt sore from having spent the night in a cold tub with the wind blowing down upon her. Yup. Gonna die from pneumonia.
"Yes?" he turned, hesitating a moment.
The man's suit was tailored to perfection. Tanned skin emerging from a crisp white cuff, fastened by onyx cufflinks. It must be designer. His shiny shoes too. Trinity's eyes traveled up his gorgeous clothing til she met the black-colored depth of his eyes. His hair, equally as black, was slicked back away from his face. The style held into position by some sort of pomade undoubtedly. There was smoulder to this man. He held power. There was no mistaking that. A powerful man in a grocery store.
He was easily the sexiest man Trinity had ever seen in the entirety of her life. Not only were his eyes spellbinding, his features reminded her of a statue. Perfectly carved from his straight nose to his angular jaw. Even his lips were the right balance of plump. Beauty personified.
"May I help you, miss?"
His voice. So deep. He could narrate a story.
But wait. What? Had she said something to him? Oh God. She did. She needed the seasoning on the top shelf. Oh no.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry to bother you, sir. I w–was just wondering if you could possibly reach something for me? But I–I'm sorry. I can, I can just get the s–store clerk," she breathed. She hated when she stuttered. Why was she doing it now of all times?
"What do you need?" his eyes followed hers to the Italian seasoning. "This?" he pointed at it.
Trinity nodded and watched as he plucked the small container off of the shelf and handed it to her. She shouldn't be looking at him. She's married. And if anyone from David's precinct saw her, they would tell him she was talking to a man. Diverting her attention to her shoes, she took the seasoning.
"Thank you, sir," she whispered.
This was bad. What if someone saw her? Maybe she should walk around to make sure no police were in the store. She needed to know.
"You're most welcome," his eyes dropped from her face to her bandaged hand.
She needed to get out of here. She needed to get to the next few aisles over and check out who the hell was in the store. Quickly, she left the aisle without looking back at the beautiful man and started checking. Her heart thrummed in her chest at an unnatural pace. She ignored the winded feeling. She could breathe later. For now, she had to know.
Aisle one, all clear. Aisle two, she was just in, all clear. Aisle three, all clear. Aisle four, all clear. A panicked lump started to rise in her throat. Aisle five, all clear. Aisle six, all clear. Two more aisles then the meat section, produce section, dairy section and frozen section. Come on.
A startled gasp ripped from her throat as she crashed into a hard wall. Except it wasn't a hard wall, but a person. No. She raised frightened eyes up into black ones. The beautiful man! A whimper leaked out of her.
"I'm so sorry."
The man's hands gripped her elbows, steadying her. She couldn't look at him. She had to look in aisle six or was it seven? Time was running out! She started to move away, but his grip held firm. Her eyes shot to his in a panic.
"P-p-please let me go. Pl...,"
"Miss. Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Thank you."
"I know that look. It's not a look of fine. Who are you running from?"
The question was simple. Straight forward. Direct. No beating around the bush. Worse than that was the commandment he held in his voice. He expected an answer.
"Please let me go. I-I-I have to...," Trinity licked her lips unaware of the tear that escaped down her face, "I have to check aisle seven and eight," her voice cracked.
Anxiety's cruel what if questions whispered into her ear, driving her from the store. Her cart was left in aisle two. She hadn't even checked out. All of her groceries left behind. On the bright side, there were no patrol cars in the lot. No one had seen her speak with the beautiful man. Relief swept through, banishing her panic attack.
She would need to drive to the next grocery store a town over, just in case. This put her behind schedule by an hour. Maybe if she purchased chicken soup already made, he would never know. That could save her some time because she still needed to clean the bathroom and bedroom. Luckily, yesterday she had vacuumed so that chore was done. Although, she forgot to sweep the basement steps. It would be difficult to do with one hand, but not impossible.
Once home and the chores complete, Trinity worked to get dinner on the table and the evidence of her canned soup tossed away in the trash. She even went so far as to take the garbage out to the trash cans so that he wouldn't notice. Everything appeared to be in order. Even the fresh flowers were cut and placed into a vase of cool water. Yellow daffodils.
The room had a spring feel to it now. That was good. Perhaps the little bit of cheer would dispel any foul mood David might be in. Lord knew she wouldn't be able to handle another night like last night.
Once David arrived home, she thanked the heavens the door closed soft. Kinda soft. Was it soft? Maybe it was a little forced. Shaking her head, she got up from the chair to greet him.
"Hi honey," she smiled.
Silence. Not even a look. He unlaced his shoes and placed them on the mat, threw his keys into the bowl and moved past her as if she weren't even there. This was bad. Smoothing her hands down her sides, she went to the stove and dished the soup into a bowl and placed it down softly, repeating the steps for her own dinner.
"H–how was your day, honey?"
"Fine. We're going out tonight."
What? Since when? He never took her out. Ever. Panic coiled tight her stomach. She didn't have the energy to go out. She needed to rest.
"What would you like for me to wear?"
"We're going to a club. The boys invited me out. They're all bringing their bitches."
This was bad. Just about as disastrous as it could get. Any place that had alcohol was bad news.
"Place is called La Notte. It's a classy place so wear that black dress you had on the other day and fix your goddamned face. Go on. I don't wanna be late."
Good. She wasn't hungry anyway. But how the hell was she supposed to wear the heels she had worn for him the other day? They were five inch stilettos. And what about her face?! Shit.
Making her way into the bedroom, she grabbed a thong, the dress and the shoes. The dress had an open back that dipped low. There was no room for a bra. She was going to look like a slut and be blamed for it.
Once in the bathroom, she quickly dressed, curled her hair and caked foundation, concealer and powder over her injured skin ignoring the pain. How should she do her eye makeup? David would want her to look good tonight. She can't embarrass him. Perhaps a smokey eye with a nude lip would please him distract from the rest of her face.
Her platinum blonde curls fell around her face and breasts, tumbling down to her waist. The reflection looking back at her was gorgeous. She could have been a makeup artist. A horror makeup artist. She wasn't quite sure how she managed to make her skin look as if nothing had happened. But she did, and that was all that mattered.
Finally, she removed the bandage from her hand to reveal the blood encrusted sutures. It was a miracle none of them popped after everything they had been through. Washing her hand with warm soapy water, she toweled it off and covered the wound with a smaller bandage significantly less noticeable. Hopefully, she would please him tonight. Popping another two ibuprofen, and another for good measure, it was now or never.
Making her way back down the stairs on surprisingly steady legs, Trinity waited in the living room for David who was in the downstairs bathroom. When he came out, she couldn't deny he looked handsome. Not as handsome as the man in the grocery store, however. Nowhere near.
"You look very handsome, David," she complimented.
"Yeah, well, you look fucking hot. Do not, I repeat, do not leave my side unless it's to go to the bathroom. And then you tell me. Got it?"
"I do. Yes."
"Good, because you know what'll happen if you don't, right?"
Trinity nodded her head.
"I should fuck you before we leave here tonight," David looked at his watch. "Fuck. We don't have time. We're already late. Let's go."
Relief.
Hopefully, he wouldn't make her drink tonight. With the ibuprofen she just took, it would be best to stay sober. Chances were high that after a while, he wouldn't even notice her.
"So there's gonna be a bunch of people from work at La Notte. The guys never met you before. My guess is you're gonna cause a stir, so just stick to my side."
"Yes. I understand."
Great. Just what she needed.
"There's valet parking here. Wait a second. I'll get your door."
David got out of the truck and handed his key to the valet, then came around to open her door and helped her out. He was different now. Where once a monster now a perfect gentleman. A loving and doting husband. She had seen a glimmer of this side from him when they first started dating. It died out once they said I do.
"Come on, hun. Let's go meet the boys."
The club seemed to have its own pulse with dance music and colorful lights. David wasn't exaggerating when he said the place was classy. The color scheme seemed to be black and red. Everything in the place looked very expensive from the tables and chairs to the people. It was like a magazine or a movie. Gorgeous and sexy.
"There they are. Come on, honey." David looped his arm around hers and made his way to the group of men and women joking and laughing. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. The women were dressed to kill and looked beautiful next to their dates and husbands. Trinity swallowed hard, nervous for what was to come.
"Hey y'all!" David yelled, slapping one man on the back.
"David!" They all cheered.
"Guys, this is my wife, Trinity. Trinity, meet the boys."
"Well, goddamn, David. How the hell did you convince her to marry your ugly ass? Holy. Shit!"
"Shut the fuck up, Jack."
Now she had the full attention of the entire group. The once beautiful women now looked different with their subtle sneers and upturned noses. They didn't like her. It was because of the men's reactions to her. She didn't need to start this night off with jealous women. Great.
"Nice to meet you," she said to a few who shook her hand.
"What are you drinking, sexy?"
Crap. If she answered that question, it would get her into trouble later. She looked at David instead. He would probably answer for her.
"She's gonna go to the bar with me."
David pulled her along with him through the thick crowd and up to the bar.
"I'm gonna order a beer. What do you want?"
"Sprite, please."
"Fine. Probably best you don't drink. Don't move."
Standing as still as possible, she took the opportunity to fill her eyes with the decor of the building. Everything was so beautiful and alive here. How fun it must be for those who were on a date. It made her smile.
"Hey, baby girl. How 'bout we take it up on the dance floor?"
A man was talking to her, but she looked up at the ceiling instead. There was no way she was going to be caught exchanging any syllables with anyone. Not one single peep of a sound. And if it meant she was a bitch, so be it.
"Hey. I'm talking to you sweet cheeks."
"She's mine. Back the fuck off."
The man held up his hands, then disappeared into the crowd.
"You talking to him? What did you say?"
"No, David. When he started talking to me, I looked up at the ceiling and didn't move. Just like you instructed."
"Good. Lemme grab our drinks."
Letting out a breath, Trinity looked over at the bar where her husband was when her eyes fell on a man sitting on a stool observing David. It was him! The man from the grocery store. He was staring at David with a peculiar look on his face. Before she could turn away, his eyes locked with hers.
Time was frozen. She was frozen. The beautiful man's eyes traveled from her shoes all the way up to the top of her head and then back down again to her eyes. He made no move to take her in, in a hurry. Did he recognize her?
When David neared, the man got up from his seat and approached. What was he doing? Absently, Trinity took the Sprite from her husband.
"Excuse me, sir."
"What?" David's shitty tone died in his throat when he turned to face the man.
"Would you like to join the VIP room with your date? I have a few spots available?"
"She's not my date, asshole. She's my wife. And why the fuck would I want to sit in a room with you?"
"Forgive me. I didn't know she was your wife. I'm the owner of this establishment. You look like a fine couple, and thought you would enjoy it. I'm mistaken then. Enjoy your evening."
Trinity closed her eyes unable to watch the man walk away. David just made a complete ass out of himself and her. Embarrassment had her cheeks on fire.
"Who the fuck does he think he is? I don't care if he's the owner or not. I saw the way he looked at you. I'm not stupid. Let's get back to the group."
Trinity followed her husband back, not before looking over her shoulder to find the beautiful man staring straight at her. He recognized her. There was no doubt in Trinity's mind. She knew he recognized her because his gaze dropped to the hand that had been bandaged earlier today.
It was his way of saying hello apparently. Just as long as it was a silent hello and nothing more. She didn't need his intervention. He was a smart man. He knew what was up. Hopefully, he wasn't planning on being a hero tonight. Glancing around told her, he probably wouldn't. Where did he go?
David's squeeze around her waist brought her back to the conversation. What were they talking about? She had no clue. Her attention was completely on the beautiful man who was also the club owner. That came at no surprise. His club was just as beautiful as he. All that remained to be seen was the man's girlfriend or wife. She was probably gorgeous too.
Men like him always had a beautiful person attached to their arm to show off or compliment. She didn't. She had a monster. A monster or a fucking demon. The label didn't really matter. Either way, she couldn't figure out a way to escape the current situation that was hell. Every time she came up with a plan, the nagging what if question shut her down.
Smiling and nodding, she again redirected her attention to the conversation. Taking cues from the people around her was all she had to go on to know when to laugh or smile. What the hell were they talking about? She better pay attention.
One of the women, what was her name again? Callie? Trinity couldn't remember, nudged her.
"So, like, are those real?" she gestured to Trinity's chest.
Was this woman for real? Why did she care if her boobs were real or not? Jeeze. These people were all weird and fake. When was this night going to end?
"What do you mean? My wife's tits are all real. What? Don't believe me? Feel 'em."
"David?" Trinity gasped.
"Go ahead, Callie. Give 'em a squeeze. What? It's the only way she's gonna know, babe," he shrugged.
Much to Trinity's horror, the woman took the invitation and placed her hand on her breast and squeezed. Trinity's body stiffened when the tips of the woman's nails dug into her skin under the harsh grip.
"Oh. I guess you're right. She's real," she sneered. "Mine are fake and perfectly symmetrical. You can feel mine, if you want to."
"No, thank you." Trinity brought her arm across her chest and clutched her shoulder hoping no one else would touch her. How could David do that? Did he not realize she was touched without consent? Why was she even surprised? He didn't care. He never would.
"David, I need to use the restroom," Trinity whispered.
David grimaced, but looked around spotting the bathroom sign. "Go ahead. I'll wait for you here. I'll be watching," he whispered into her ear.
Nodding, Trinity left the group behind for the bathroom while making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone. She didn't need that.
Once inside, she was relieved to see a chair against the wall. Perfect. She needed a breather. This night wasn't the worse, but it wasn't good either.
Who knew the beautiful man was the owner of this club? What were the chances of running into him again? He really was beautiful. So confident and sexy. His girlfriend or wife was sure lucky.
How must that feel? To be with someone so beautiful and kind. She wasn't entirely sure he was kind, but he seemed to be. Also, to be with someone as established as he presented. There would be no worry about how bills were going to be paid. There would be no worry about a beating. There would be no worry or wonder if each day would be the last. There would be no question of being loved or not. How would that life feel?
Trinity closed her eyes and, for the briefest of moments, allowed herself to dream. Freedom feels...wonderful. The flush of a toilet interrupted the moment, and she opened her eyes. That's right. She was in a bathroom. How fitting. She better go back.
Pulling open the door and heading into the dark hallway, she laughed to herself. This was the hallway back to her prison, she mused.
"We meet again."
She knew that deep voice. It belonged to the beautiful man. Nervously, she looked down the hall where she could see David in the distance. His back was to her. It wouldn't have mattered if it wasn't. This far down the hall was too dark to see her from where she stood.
"Oh, h-hello," she stammered, turning around to face him.
He smiled kind at her, "You were at the grocery store earlier today."
Trinity glanced over her shoulder. Good, he was still talking to the group. "Um...yeah," she breathed.
"How's your hand?"
He took her hand into his and flipped it over, smoothing his thumb gently over the bandage. Trinity pulled her hand away with a shiver.
"Fine. It's fine. Silly kitchen accident."
"The group you're with isn't pleasant."
It was a statement. One that wasn't wrong. Did he see Callie grab her? Probably. This man looked to be very aware of everything around him. There would be no dancing around with her answers.
"No. I suppose they're not," she smiled tight.
"Why don't you join me for a drink? Your husband hardly seems to notice you've gone."
"Eventually he will."
"Eventually. Then what?"
"Then...," she looked back. Now David was starting to look around for her. Of course he was. "Then is then," she smiled.
"What's your name?"
"Trinity."
"Trinity," he tested her name on his tongue. "Bellissima."
"I have to go. It was nice to see you again."
The man took her hand into his, then brushed his lips softly over her knuckles. She couldn't stop the shiver running down her spine.
"Carpe diem, Trinity."
"W-what?"
"It's Latin. It means seize the day. We all have one life, Trinity. Just one chance to make it count. It's alright to be selfish. It's alright to take what you deserve. It's also alright to leave behind whatever it is that's stopping you from your happiness."
"Not everyone has that luxury," she swallowed, her eyes darting between his.
"Perhaps not, but you do. Remember that, Trinity."
Kissing her hand once more, he left her standing by herself. Just in time too. Trinity blinked, dumbfounded by the strange meeting she had with the beautiful man.
"What the hell are you doing?"
David. She should have known. She must look strange standing by herself in the dark hallway staring into space. He's going to accuse her of being on crack.
"Well? Answer me?" he grabbed her arm in a tight hold and yanked it back.
"I...I thought I lost my contact lense, but it's in my eye. I'm sorry."
"Oh. Well, come on. We gotta dance one dance and then we'll leave."
Dance? Since when does he dance? He never dances. Great. She's not a dancer. Might as well get it over with.
A slower tempo song came on much to Trinity's relief. She didn't want to have to dance fast. On the other hand, she didn't want to be in David's arms. Maybe if she imagined it was the beautiful man, it would make it more bearable.
David's arm snaked around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. The smell of beer was heavy on his breath and sweat. Hopefully, he would pass out when they got home.
The rest of their group was on the dance floor. No wonder he wanted to dance. Why was he such a try hard? Why couldn't he just be himself? Maybe he wouldn't be so mean if he were confident. There would be no finding out that answer. He wasn't ever going to change.
Unexpectedly, David decided to dip her. Her body bent backwards over his arm painfully causing her to wince and flinch when his mouth came between her breasts to lick her cleavage.
Hoots and hollers came from their group. Closing her eyes, she prayed for the song to end. Prayed for David to remove his mouth from the valley of skin between her breasts. Prayed for him to remove his hands from around her waist. Why was he doing this?
When the song finally ended, he dragged her from the dance floor and said his goodbyes before exiting the club. Finally. She couldn't wait to get home. Couldn't wait to take off the skimpy dress and shoes. Couldn't wait to take a shower to feel clean again. Couldn't wait to go to sleep.
Hopefully, she wouldn't wake up.