Chapter One
Blanche
Perfection is the lie we’re force fed from the moment we’re read our first fairytale. It’s a subliminal message that creeps in with every telling. Be you beaten starved, enslaved, or cast out of your family; love will fix everything. If we just hold on long enough some white knight will come out of the woodwork and save us. It’s laughable when I really think about it. As a little girl from a small town, I thought the world was full of wonder and infinite possibilities. I believed every word they spoke to me as I drifted off to sleep. I ate up every line, buying into the notion that love heals all. As if one emotion could ever cover up a multitude of sins.
I stare down at the thick volume of fairytales in my hand. Bitterness wells up in the back of my throat and my mouth puckers. It’s all bullshit. A pipe dream I can no longer bury my head in the sand and believe in. For my child’s sake. I think of my daughter who’s on the verge of adulthood, watching me for cues to learn what’s acceptable in a relationship.
The thought of her dealing with this kind of treatment has red hot anger bubbling up inside me like water in a pot on a stove. I toss the leather bound book into the stainless steel garbage can and glance at the clock above the microwave. Three a.m. The numbers mock me. Like font from a horror movie, they provide foreshadowing. Nothing good will come from what is about to follow.
The exhaustion set in my bones is spilling over into my brain, choking my rational thought, and depleting my sense of self-worth. I’ve been sacrificing so much I don’t like or recognize the reflection I see daily in the mirror. From the expensive designer clothes hand-picked by my personal stylist to the straightened hair, I’m made up of bits and pieces of someone else’s choosing. The lock turns in the front door, and I stand up straight, gathering every last bit of strength I possess. Life has beaten me down. It’s stilled my tongue, crushed my spirit, and warped my personality. I’m fighting for the survival of myself.
I stand and pull the old flannel robe closer. I dressed for battle in the red and black checkered button up shirt and pajama pant combo Brooks hates so much. It’s my first, but not last act of rebellion. I study the man I’ve been married to for nearly two decades. After fifteen years, he’s still sexy as hell. The salt and pepper in his dark hair makes him seem more distinguished, and he’s kept his frame lean. At six foot two, he still towers over my five feet eleven inches, and the dimple in his left cheek remains adorable. His strong jaw, Roman nose, and deep-set greenish blue eyes are breathtakingly beautiful. Yet, none of these features move me. I’m over his outward beauty.
As he moves through the living room his eyes widen. “Honey. It’s three in the morning. What are you still doing up?”
“Your shift ended at midnight, Brooks.”
He sighs. “You know how it is at the hospital. There’s always paperwork and—”
“No.”
He blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You don’t get to blame what’s happening on your job anymore. You’re no longer at the bottom of the barrel trying to prove yourself. I know you can get out of there on most nights with no problem when your shift is done. Do you honestly think I’m that stupid? I might be from a small town in Tennessee, but I’m not naïve and my mama sure as hell didn’t raise no fool.”
“What are you going on about?” he sighs heavily and something in me snaps.
I slap the kitchen countertop with my palm. “No. you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to treat me like I’m some paranoid wife flying off at the handle over nothing.”
“You’re out of line and embarrassing yourself
.”
“Oh hell, naw.” My twang kicks in. You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl. I grab the nearest thing to me and fling it toward him. The mug whizzes through the air, a perfectly aimed missile. I played softball through high school, and it shows. He throws himself out of the way, and it crashes into the far wall.
“Are you crazy?”
“No, I been crazy, but I’m done with that now.”
“You need to calm down.”
I throw my head back and release an evil laugh that would put Cruella Deville to shame.
“Oh boy, you ain’t seen nothing yet. I’m done pretending I don’t know you’re two-timing me.”
“Two-timing?”
“Cheating, knocking boots with someone else, philandering. Is that a better word for you? All roads seem down the same street. You’ve been unfaithful, and we both know it, you slimy snake in the grass.”