I didn’t know any women that had heart attacks at twenty five but the way my heart was beating out my chest I think I just may be the first in my circle of friends. All he talked about was how he didn’t care and how this was all fun and games. If that was the case, why was my husband yelling and screaming at me, trying his best to kick in the bedroom door?
He approached my husband and told him everything, piecing together the story there was an altercation and from there he came straight here. If it wasn’t for the call I got right before I was about to open the door I think I’d be lying on the ground with his hands around me.
“Raquel, you should leave! You should leave now! He knows…” I had a million questions, I didn’t have any questions. But I knew when I heard the tires screech and the door slam that he wasn’t trying to hear me out. And without actually knowing what he’d told him there was no way for me to lie. Grabbing my keys and trying to make it to the garage crossed my mind but running out the house in a tank top and panties with no purse wasn’t the best option.
His key was shaking in the door, I had the deadbolt on hoping that would cool him off but when I heard the first kick I was afraid for my life. For the first time in my existence I was afraid that the man I slept next to every night would hurt me. What scared me most was the silence, he wasn’t screaming, he wasn’t cursing or asking questions. He was just trying to get to me.
“I don’t want to call the police, please calm down so we can talk about this! Please baby!”
Each kick sounded like thunder, sitting on the bed, my phone in my hand. Did I have a choice but the call the police? If he killed me or hit me I couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, shoes and no socks. I couldn’t call the police, I couldn’t ruin his life like I was pretty sure I’d ruined our marriage. If he came through that door he was going to have a hell of a fight on his hands! I’d never let a man hit me before and I don’t care how mad he was, I wasn’t going to let him start now.
I’d never actually used it but I remembered him giving it to me last Christmas, it was in my sock drawer. I ran over throwing socks everywhere until I found it. The taser was supposed to be able to take down a full sized bear. Putting that much electricity into him wasn’t ideal but it was better than him choking me to death.
The door came open and there was blood on the front of his shirt, his right eye was closed and his chest was heaving up and down! The knuckles on his right hand looked busted and he just stood there looking at me.
“It’s not what you think! It’s not! Just talk to me… Tell me what’s going on!” I kept the bed between us and my hand on the taser in my hoodie. His silence was scaring me more than his bruises.
“Are you really pregnant?”
Shit! Did he know I wasn’t or was he thinking back to all the stories I’d told him? If I told him I wasn’t would he attack me? He was certain about the affair but we could survive that… I know we can survive that. But we wouldn’t survive me lying about a baby.