He was the same. Hair a little bit longer so it curled around the collar of his black shirt. The sleeves were pulled up to show his corded forearms. He still worked out, ate chicken and rice, maintained his physique with a manic perfectionism. His jaw was clean-shaven, a couple of new lines underneath his eyes.
His shirt was tucked into dark jeans, badge pinned on his belt. It was polished, shining in the sun, the reflection from it seemed to burn me. It was a joke, that shield on his hip.
“Are you gonna invite your husband in or just stand there grinning at me like an idiot?” he asked, voice smooth, pleasing, on the outside at least. There was a threat slithering underneath it that I recognized.
My body moved robotically, outside of my own volition as I stepped aside and let him into my home. I let him into my sanctuary without hesitation, without a fight.
Shocked at myself, I was still holding the door handle as he walked past, his scent assaulting my nostrils. His cologne hadn’t changed, of course. It was still too musky, too strong.
I stared at the beautiful garden across from me for a moment. Alice, my elderly neighbor, looked up from the flowers she was planting to raise her hand in greeting.
I robotically waved back.
I didn’t make friends with my neighbors before. Robert didn’t allow it. They were too close to us already, they could be a lifeline, a support system if I needed it. Which I did.
He made sure I had nothing I needed, and everything he wanted for me.
I was friends with my neighbors now.
Lucia and her husband Felipe had two kids, one that was twelve and another that was sixteen, who babysat for me now and again.
Eliza and Karen were on my other side, newly married and trying to start their own business. They moved in just after Nathan and I did and were my closest friends. Our family.
They were a support system.
I had them around me.
But I had Robert in my freaking house.
I turned, leaving the front door open. I needed it open, I needed the light from the outside world, from my current world, to seep in as my previous life dripped darkness all over my handmade rug.
Robert was looking around the living room in disgust.
It was an open plan, a patchwork sofa to the right of the front door, covered in pillows and throws. I usually fell asleep there with something stupid playing on the TV, which was pretty ancient, especially compared to Eliza and Karen’s ‘Smart TV’ we watched Game of Thrones on. I didn’t have cable. But I had a bulging shelf of books to the right of the TV. I had three different books on the giant oak chest I used as a coffee table. There was a rocking chair beside the sofa, covered with laundry that I used to rock Nathan in.
To the left of the door was a small round dining table that I’d found at a flea market, sanded down, restored and painted. Same with the chairs, and a few other bits of furniture around the house.
Karen told me I should start a business selling it because it was ‘dope’. But I didn’t have time for things. I had a kid and a job. And laundry.
There was a bowl of crystals in the middle of the dining room table. A salt lamp on a side table near the kitchen. A framed poster of the lunar cycle on the wall Robert was scowling at.
I wasn’t sure if he was scowling at the poster or the chipped paint on the walls.
“You need to leave,” I said, my voice small, but strong.
He snapped his eyes to me, running them over my body in a way that made me feel ill. It was a balmy day and we didn’t have AC, only a laboring fan that was usually in Nathan’s room.
I was wearing short yellow shorts with a rainbow on the right side and a matching yellow tank with an illustration of a sun. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I didn’t normally need to since I naturally had small boobs. They’d grown when I was pregnant and breastfeeding but somehow had reverted back to their small, perky state. Granted, they were a lot less perky than before, and covered in stretch marks, but still not bad.
The rest of my body had bounced back at first because Robert ensured I had an exercise schedule weeks after having Nathan and he monitored my diet because he didn’t want a ‘chubby wife’.
After we left, I didn’t diet out of need, only necessity. At the start, I barely had enough money to feed both Nathan and myself. It went without saying that if it was a choice between us both, I’d go hungry. I’d never failed to feed my son, even when I’d done so for myself. Now we had a bit more money so our pantry was stocked with as much organic produce as I could afford—and we had a vegetable garden in our tiny back yard—and cupboards full of off-brand food, but I just didn’t have time to eat.