But on the other side of the door I found Kelly, broken and beaten. Tears streaming down her face, colliding with the dried blood from her nose and lip. Her right eye was black and blue, and her hair was a knotted mess. I gasped at the sight of her, and she nearly collapsed into my arms. I pulled her inside and walked her into the living room, wrapping a blanket around her cold body.
“Who did this, Kelly?” I nearly screamed in anger as I ran to the kitchen for an ice pack and a rag. She cried harder.
“Do I need to call the police?” I placed the ice pack to her eye. I wiped the blood away from her nose and lip with the rag.
“No… No, don’t,” she pleaded. I continued to dab and wipe the blood away. We sat there until her cries fell silent and I knew she was ready to talk. I brought her a glass of scotch and refilled mine. It was going to be a long night. I sat beside her, holding her, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be all right.
“He’s never going to stop,” she finally said, slicing through the silence.
“Who?”
“Scott… my husband.”
I pulled her in a little closer. I knew she was married. But I had assumed her marriage was like mine, loveless, boring, inattentive, and extinguished… not like this. I thought I had it bad—but Kelly had it worse, far worse. I may be bored, but she was in danger.
“Have you gone to the cops?” I took a gulp of scotch.
“I can’t.” She shook her head.
“Why?”
“I just can’t.” She sounded exasperated. She finished off her drink, and I didn’t push it any further. Her look told me to stop.
“What can I do?” I asked. I got up and refilled both our drinks. I set them on the coffee table and retook my place on the couch. Pulling her into my lap, I stroked her hair and the side of her face. I had been seeing Kelly for the past year. I cared about this woman. I loved this woman. I wanted to save this woman. This couldn’t be how our lives played out. This couldn’t be it.
“You can’t do anything. He’ll never stop.” Her eyes were glazed over, and there was no hope in them. She truly believed what she was saying.
I couldn’t let her give up. “I can help you get away.”
“I can’t run. He’ll always find me.”
“We’ll run away together… you and I,” I said, and I think I meant it.
“Sometimes, I think the only way I’ll ever get away from him is in death.”
“Don’t say that. Why would you say that?”
“There are things you don’t know about me.” She looked at me intently. Then she looked away as if she regretted what she had just said.
“What don’t I know about you? I love you, Kelly. That’s all I need to know. I love you, and I want to help you. Tell me how I can help you.”
“I don’t think you can help me. Scott has a hold on me.”
“What is it? Tell me.” I squeezed her hand tightly.
She took a deep breath and sat up. She picked up her drink and downed the whole thing in one gulp. She turned to me, and she let everything out, everything Scott had been holding over her.
“I was married before, and although we loved each other, we weren’t always good to each other. And my name… isn’t really Kelly Summers. It’s Jenna Way. I had to change it after what happened, after I was accused of killing my first husband. I didn’t kill him.” She paused. I gave her hand a small squeeze. She looked at me and continued. “We had had a fight earlier that day, which was the norm for us. Our relationship was full of passion, both good and bad. When I came home later that night, he was dead. He had been stabbed to death. I was the primary suspect. I didn’t do it, I swear. I loved my husband, but I was charged with his murder. When some of the evidence was misplaced during the trial, the charges against me were dismissed. He helped me be free, but he owns me now, so really, I’m not free. I’m still paying for a crime I didn’t commit. I’m still serving my sentence. Just not in a jail cell, but with Scott. I know it won’t end well for me, and I know the only way I will be free is if he is out of the picture.” She hung her head.
I tried to remain calm while I digested what she had confessed to. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to ask her and I didn’t even know if I should say anything at all. That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. Kelly had a darkness inside her that I couldn’t even comprehend. I thought I knew this woman. But I didn’t even know her real name. Who was she? Did she kill her husband?
When I didn’t respond right away, she seemed to get nervous. Her eyes bounced around the room and then on me. She fidgeted with her leg and repositioned herself. “I’m not a bad person.” She took a deep breath, then got up, and I thought she was going to leave, but despite what she’d told me, I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted to understand.
“Wait,” I said. She stopped as I got up from the couch. I stood inches away from her. Her eyes lit up a bit from my presence and the possibility that I wouldn’t let her just walk out the door with nowhere to go. I inched closer to her and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“I know you as Kelly, not as Jenna.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she interrupted. I placed a finger on her lips to silence her, and I told her I needed to get this out. She obliged.
“I fell in love with Kelly, not with Jenna. Who you were doesn’t matter to me. What you’ve done doesn’t change the way I feel about you. This past year has been one of the best of my life, and that’s because of you. What you go through, I go through. What you need, I need. I promise you this, Kelly, Scott will never hurt you again.” I planted a light kiss on her forehead. She looked up at me and hope had returned to her eyes. She leaned in for a kiss, and I kissed her back. She winced a bit thanks to her split-open lip but didn’t pull away. Sometimes, the pleasure is worth the pain.
19
Sarah Morgan
The elevator doors shut, and I close my eyes for a moment gathering all the strength I have deep inside me. I have down the look of being in control and pulled together. An expensive skirt with a tight blouse, a pair of black Louboutin heels and a custom-tailored jacket. My hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and I had my makeup professionally done at my local salon this morning. They were able to cover up the bruising on my forehead, but the cut is still bandaged. I need to look the part. I need to look strong.
The doors open, and Anne is waiting by them with a cup of coffee and a sympathetic yet encouraging smile. “What happened? Are you okay?” Her eyes go directly to the Band-Aid on my head.
“It’s fine. Let’s walk and talk.” I take the cup of coffee and pass her swiftly. She catches up, eager to please and understand.
I fill Anne in on what’s going on, as I need her to get a head start on using the firm’s resources for background checks on Kelly and Scott. I need to know everything. As we go through the office, I notice quiet murmurs from colleagues. No one knows the full story yet as there hasn’t been anything in the news, but that hasn’t stopped the rumors from circling. I’m not one to cancel meetings, miss court dates, or disappear from the office, so I’m not surprised that people are talking.