stop working so hard.
After a year of the nice treatment, Melody started to believe she was in love with him. It never felt totally right. It certainly never felt like it did with Clay, but she believed she felt something for Justin as he’d held her close while she’d stood there sobbing over her father’s casket.
So she married him.
And that’s when it all went to hell.
The company gave him a promotion, moving them to Columbus. He loved the big city and hated the small town where Melody had grown up. Free from the prying eyes of Blue Springs, a town much like Garnet, where everyone knew what everyone else was doing, Justin started to get mean. A bad day at work would lead to arguments, and then the arguments started to end with hitting. Not bad at first, but it escalated over the five years they were married, and Melody found herself oddly desensitized to the abuse because of the steady buildup. The rise was gradual enough, the overwhelming misery a slow burn. She was alone in their big house. She had no friends. She wasn’t capable of fitting in with the crowds Justin hung around with.
She had no car to escape, if even for a little while, from the unhappiness. Justin always drove. He controlled everything, and Melody stopped complaining about it rather than fight. When Justin was content, he left her alone. Her life became centered on making him happy, keeping his temper even-keeled and unruffled. She fucked him because the sex made him less combative. She cooked for him because when he was fed, he was lazy. She lived in abject terror that someone or something would set him off. Which it always did, at least a couple times a week, no matter how hard she worked at avoiding it.
It wasn’t until she faced the problem of hiding bruises that Melody started to notice many women who’ve never been in an abusive relationship could be very verbal about spousal abuse. The target of their animosity was always the wife stupid enough to stick around. These women hadn’t lived Melody’s life. They couldn’t understand the conditioning. They didn’t experience the strange survival instinct that kicked in and forced her to bend to Justin’s will to stay alive and unharmed another day. They’d never felt alone and isolated and afraid of the judgment of others.
Melody knew if she exposed herself as a victim, that’s exactly what she would get.
And she was right.
Justin had taken her to the gynecologist to figure out why she couldn’t get pregnant. Much to her relief, they’d refused to let him into the room during the exam. The second she was alone, she’d begged for a refill on the birth control pills she’d been taking in secret. Justin had wanted a baby badly. He wanted Melody tied to him by blood and flesh, but there was no way she was going to bring a baby into the mess. She’d kill herself first.
Shocked by her adamancy for contraception, the nurse had asked if her husband hit her, and Melody confirmed he hit her all the time. She’d said it because she wanted to admit it to someone. She’d needed to hear herself air the shame out loud, and she’d really needed to make sure she got those birth control pills…
* * * *
The young nurse gave her a stunned look and then asked, “Why didn’t you just walk out when he started hurting you?”
Judgment.
It was predictable, and Melody was a little too scarred at that point to care. When the next words out of the woman’s mouth were, “I would never—” Melody hopped off the table, heedless of the blue paper gown and cover. She tossed both aside and started getting dressed.
“Wait, you can’t leave.” She reached out to stop Melody’s hasty escape.
Melody jerked her arm from the nurse’s grasp. “Can I get my pills or not?”
“There are protocols. I think we have to call the police. I know there are rules to be followed. Doctor Morrow knows what to do. Get dressed and I’ll
After a year of the nice treatment, Melody started to believe she was in love with him. It never felt totally right. It certainly never felt like it did with Clay, but she believed she felt something for Justin as he’d held her close while she’d stood there sobbing over her father’s casket.
So she married him.
And that’s when it all went to hell.
The company gave him a promotion, moving them to Columbus. He loved the big city and hated the small town where Melody had grown up. Free from the prying eyes of Blue Springs, a town much like Garnet, where everyone knew what everyone else was doing, Justin started to get mean. A bad day at work would lead to arguments, and then the arguments started to end with hitting. Not bad at first, but it escalated over the five years they were married, and Melody found herself oddly desensitized to the abuse because of the steady buildup. The rise was gradual enough, the overwhelming misery a slow burn. She was alone in their big house. She had no friends. She wasn’t capable of fitting in with the crowds Justin hung around with.
She had no car to escape, if even for a little while, from the unhappiness. Justin always drove. He controlled everything, and Melody stopped complaining about it rather than fight. When Justin was content, he left her alone. Her life became centered on making him happy, keeping his temper even-keeled and unruffled. She fucked him because the sex made him less combative. She cooked for him because when he was fed, he was lazy. She lived in abject terror that someone or something would set him off. Which it always did, at least a couple times a week, no matter how hard she worked at avoiding it.
It wasn’t until she faced the problem of hiding bruises that Melody started to notice many women who’ve never been in an abusive relationship could be very verbal about spousal abuse. The target of their animosity was always the wife stupid enough to stick around. These women hadn’t lived Melody’s life. They couldn’t understand the conditioning. They didn’t experience the strange survival instinct that kicked in and forced her to bend to Justin’s will to stay alive and unharmed another day. They’d never felt alone and isolated and afraid of the judgment of others.
Melody knew if she exposed herself as a victim, that’s exactly what she would get.
And she was right.
Justin had taken her to the gynecologist to figure out why she couldn’t get pregnant. Much to her relief, they’d refused to let him into the room during the exam. The second she was alone, she’d begged for a refill on the birth control pills she’d been taking in secret. Justin had wanted a baby badly. He wanted Melody tied to him by blood and flesh, but there was no way she was going to bring a baby into the mess. She’d kill herself first.
Shocked by her adamancy for contraception, the nurse had asked if her husband hit her, and Melody confirmed he hit her all the time. She’d said it because she wanted to admit it to someone. She’d needed to hear herself air the shame out loud, and she’d really needed to make sure she got those birth control pills…
* * * *
The young nurse gave her a stunned look and then asked, “Why didn’t you just walk out when he started hurting you?”
Judgment.
It was predictable, and Melody was a little too scarred at that point to care. When the next words out of the woman’s mouth were, “I would never—” Melody hopped off the table, heedless of the blue paper gown and cover. She tossed both aside and started getting dressed.
“Wait, you can’t leave.” She reached out to stop Melody’s hasty escape.
Melody jerked her arm from the nurse’s grasp. “Can I get my pills or not?”
“There are protocols. I think we have to call the police. I know there are rules to be followed. Doctor Morrow knows what to do. Get dressed and I’ll
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