“Where do you come from…Deb-Deborah?” Bridgette stumbled over her name.
“Nevada, three hours outside Las Vegas.” She glanced at Bridgette. She moved in closer and her knee brushed the side of Deborah’s leg.
“When you mean abuse, do you mean physical, or more the sexual kind?” Bridgette asked softly.
“A combination of both. My wife was into kinky things, such as using toys and bondage. Most of the times, I was tied up or played the victim. She didn’t like to lose control, so I always took on the role of the submissive while she was dominant. Before our marriage, our lovemaking was typical, but then when we got married, things changed. She wanted to push the envelope. She also became jealous and possessive. A few times…” She covered her trembling mouth. “I’ve been on the end of her rage, and I had my share of bruises and cuts.”
“Oh, Deborah.” She rested her hand on top of Deborah’s folded ones. “How did you hook up with this horrible woman, and why did you stay with her after so many years of abuse?”
She snorted. “I started working for Gen—that’s my wife—taking care of her terminally ill mother. I’d just finished nursing school and was hired as a personal nurse through an agency.” She smiled softly in memory of the first time she met Genevieve. “ She was an older, classy, and stunning woman. I was awed by her. She reminded me of those actresses from old-time Hollywood movies. There I was, a young kid with barely any experience working for a rich family. It should have come as no surprise that when she became interested in me personally, I was all in. Three months after I started working for her, we had an affair. I fell in love with her soon after.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale come to life,” Bridgette said sarcastically, and Deborah laughed.
“More like a deranged fairy tale toward the end.” She swallowed and continued. “We kept things quiet since I was her mother’s caregiver. Then, six months later, her mother passed away. Afterward, she asked me to marry her. I thought I had found the love of my life. The first couple months of my marriage were wonderful, but then it started to go downhill. She cut me off from my old friends, saying they were using me to get to her. She became suspicious whenever I went out and didn’t tell her. Then she started accusing me of cheating on her with other women.” She cleared her throat nervously. “That’s when it got really bad. The fights between us, or rather the ‘arguments,’ as she preferred to call them, became heated to the point where she hit and scratched me.”
“Oh, Deborah…” Bridgette rested her palm on her face.
“I-I’ve seen married couples get physical before,” she said, her voice shaking. “My parents had an unstable relationship. My father had a wicked temper, and Mom suffered because of it. When I was ten, they got a divorce, and a few years later he died. I don’t have fond memories of him.”
“They say the cycle can continue with children who come from an abusive home,” Bridgette said softly.
She placed her hand on Bridgette’s and gave her a sad smile. “I’m a perfect example of that, it seems.”
“What made you finally leave?”
“It wasn’t the first time I left her. A little more than two years into our marriage, I’d had enough. We had a big blowup that ended with me getting a sprained wrist and a fat lip. While she was away on a business trip, I moved in with my mother. Around that time Mom became ill. I thought I could take care of her and get a nursing job again. Silly me didn’t think of the lengths Gen would go to get me back. I couldn’t find a job at any of the local hospitals or doctors’ offices. Plus, wherever I was, she would be there also. She pleaded, begging me to come back. I almost did a few times. But then my mother became sick and was admitted to the hospital. She needed to be someplace where she could be monitored closely. Mom’s savings weren’t enough, and I didn’t have any money, either. I ran out of options, and when Gen offered to pay Mom’s bills and for her care, I went back to her. Things were fine for a while, but then it started up again. I couldn’t leave this time. She started threatening my—my mother.” She hugged herself as she walked to the tree and rested the side of her face on it.
When Bridgette came up from behind and wrapped her arms around her, resting her cheek on her back, Deborah released a shaky sigh.
“The second time I left, which was a few weeks ago, she accused me of having an affair with the pool girl. She was so angry.” She sniffed as tears fell down her cheeks. “We had just celebrated our four-year wedding anniversary the night before. As I lay on the floor, bruised and crying, I decided I couldn’t live like this any longer. Mom doesn’t have much longer to live. So, after a year of saving money and selling jewelry and secretly planning in case I had to leave, along with the help of Gen’s servants, whom I trusted, I pretended to kill myself and traveled hundreds of miles across the country. Now here I am, ready to hop on another train and disappear again.”
“Please don’t leave me.” Bridgette sounded miserable.
She turned, wiping her tears. Bridgette cried as well. She thumbed away Bridgette’s tears.
“I have to. I don’t trust myself. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid Gen will be there. If she finds out I’m alive, she’ll kill me.”
“She’ll have to get through me first.” Bridgette curled her arms around Deborah’s neck and kissed her. Startled, she landed on the rough bark of the tree as she held Bridgette, wanting to stay like this forever and never let her go.
When Bridgette stopped the kiss, she cupped Deborah’s face, her eyes bright. “You’re no longer alone. You have me now. My family can protect you.” A frown marred her face. “Unless you think I’m like your wife—”
“No!” She squeezed Bridgette’s shoulders. “You’re the complete opposite of her. She was always too dominant and needy. At first, I found that exciting about her. She claimed me as one of her possessions, and look where it got me. With you it’s the complete opposite. We’re equals.”
“Equals. I like the sound of that.” Bridgette nodded, looking pleased. When she lifted her face, Deborah gave her another kiss.
She wanted to continue kissing under the big elm tree with the branches and leaves that covered them from prying eyes. She longed to forget everything and just be with Bridgette, regardless of the danger. If Gen ever found out I was with someone else—
“You’re thinking too hard,” Bridgette said on her mouth. She moved her face to Deborah’s throat.
Running her fingers through Bridgette’s curls, she curved an arm around her waist. “I can’t help it. I’ll never be able to rest my mind, knowing Gen is out there, suspecting I may have deceived her.”
“Instead of running away to places unknown, where you’ll have to start over again and live in fear, why don’t you wait a few days more? I can talk with Bryan and my father for advice on your situation without telling them who you are. If they’re aware a dangerous person might try and harm one of our own, they’ll take care of it.”