Finaly My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me Book 2) (8 page)

Chapter 10

My whole body was shaking as I stood there waiting for Robin to decide if he was going to take a shower. I was weak and lightheaded from the massive rush of adrenaline I experienced when he hit me. My face and back were both throbbing painfully, but I willed myself to keep it together. The last thing I needed was to break down and cry.

I needed him to get in the shower. It was my only hope. I stared at him seductively and bit my lip. "You know I want our first time to be special."

He grabbed me by the back of the waist and pulled me toward him. Nudging his chin toward me he said, "What's it matter if I take a shower? It's not like I've been at the gym."

He bent to kiss me, but I reached out and gently pushed at his chest. "Please," I said, in what I hoped was a seductive whisper.

He let out a resigned sigh and smiled at me. "Why don't you go get out of those clothes?"

I returned his smile and nodded my agreement to his request. Without another word, he opened the shower door and turned on the water. He had just started to remove his slacks when I began walking out of the room. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to run. I walked casually toward his bedroom, stopping to look back at him before I crossed the threshold. I watched as he stepped into the shower stall, which was already steamy since I had only turned it off minutes before.

Adrenaline started pulsing through me in waves the instant I turned my back on him. I knew I only had the briefest window of time to make an escape, and I was all but crippled by the nerves. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where I couldn't run fast enough—like I was running through a lake of syrup. I ran out of his bedroom, down the hall, and down the stairs as quickly as I could, feeling the whole time like he was right behind me. I ran in an odd state of delirium, whispering things like,
please, please, please,
and
oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness
.

Once I got downstairs, I could scarcely turn around to see if he was behind me or not. I was petrified with fear. I almost went straight for the front door, but I knew I needed my phone, so I stopped at the catchall where I had stashed my purse. The small, leather clutch I had carried to the party was waiting right where I left it. Robin's car keys were sitting right next to it. It crossed my mind to drive away in it, but I knew that was a bad idea.

I grabbed the keys and froze there for a second or two deciding what to do with them. I didn't want them, but I didn't want him to have them either. There was a potted plant right next to the catchall, and I dropped the keys into it and watched as they disappeared into its foliage. Seconds later, I was out the door and running across his front lawn. I had no idea where to go, so I just went in the opposite direction of his bedroom window just in case he happened to be looking out of it at that moment. I had never felt the sort of rush I was feeling as I ran across the lawn towards his neighbor's house. Their back yard was fenced, so I ran toward the front of the house. A security light came on, but I just kept on running.

My throat and lungs began to burn, but I didn't stop. I had no idea what Robin was capable of, but there was no way I was sticking around to find out. I didn't stop until I was three houses from Robin's, and even then, I ran through their backyard, and across the next street. By that time, I had no other choice but to stop and catch my breath. I'd been running full speed for a far greater distance than my body was used to, and I simply had to stop. I had no idea where I was, but I knew it was better than being in Robin's bedroom.

How had it come to this? How could I suddenly be so terrified of someone I thought I loved?

I knew my phone was in my clutch. It was small, and I could feel everything inside. I was standing near a fence. There were some bushes nearby, and I stooped down so I could be hidden as I dug in my purse

I was shaking violently as I fished for it. The December night air was biting cold and all I had on was a T-shirt and pair of boxers. I nearly dropped my phone as I pulled it from my purse. It was like I was standing outside my body watching myself do it, but somehow I got to my recent calls and found the name
Mom
. I pushed the button and held the phone to my ear, waiting for her to pick up.

"Hello?" she asked sleepily after three rings.

"Mom, I need dad to come pick me up," I whispered. To my own dismay, my voice was equally as shaky as my hands, making my words almost inaudible.

"Is this Emily?" she asked, sounding more alert.

"Yes ma'am."

"What's the matter, baby?"

"Mom, I need dad to come pick me up right now. Robin's really mad and he's gonna be looking for me." I was shaking so violently that it felt like I was in danger of going into some sort of convulsions.

"Emily where are you?" I heard her ask. I could tell by the tone of voice that she meant business.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm close to Robin's house."

"His parents'?" she asked.

"No. His house. Tell dad to get in the car and drive toward Robin's house. I'm on the street behind his. I'll try to figure out where I am and I’ll call his phone in a minute."

"He's on his way but it's gonna take him fifteen minutes to get there. Are you somewhere safe?"

I looked around, scanning my surroundings. If all else failed I could knock on a door and tell the people inside I needed help. "I'm okay." I said.

"Go to Robin's house," I heard her say, talking to my dad. "Emily said she'd call to let you know exactly where she was." She paused for a few seconds before I heard her say, "Okay, he's headed for the door right now, sweetheart. What in the world happened?"

"I don't think I can really talk about it right now. I'm in some random person's yard, and I'm trying to be quiet. Robin got physical with me and I ran off. I'll tell you about it when I get home."

"Did he hurt you?" she asked. I could hear the anger in her voice.

"I'm okay, mom. I just need dad to come get me."

"He's already out the door, baby. Just hold tight. Do you want to stay on the phone with me till he gets there?"

"No, I'm gonna try to figure out where I am so I can let him know." I quickly racked my brain to try to figure out how to get a grasp on my surroundings. "Hey mom?" I said before we hung up.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to walk around to the front of this house and see what their address is. Can you look at a map of Robin's house on your phone and see what the name of the street behind his is?"

"Of course," she said, sounding certain that she could figure it out.

"Okay, text me with it so I can call Dad."

"I'll do it right now."

"Thank you."

"Emily, I want you to promise to bang on someone's door or call 911 if you're in danger before your dad gets there."

"I'm okay mom. Just text me the name of that street."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered. "See you in a minute."

We hung up the phone and I began to tiptoe around the front of the house to get an address. I was constantly looking around for any sign of Robin, either on foot or in his car, but there was no one in sight. I expected a security light to come on as I made my way to the front of the house, but it never did. I tiptoed close enough to the front door to see that the numbers were 220 before turning around to once again hide in the bushes on the side of the house.

Within a minute, I had a text from my mom saying she thought
Regents Park
was the name of the street I was looking for. It seemed right to me, and I immediately called my dad. It was an area with new homes, and Dad was a contractor, so he was familiar with it. He insisted on staying on the phone with me until he got there. I huddled down behind the bushes and pulled the T-shirt over my knees for warmth.

The other line of my phone rang, and I instinctually glanced down at it to see who it was. My heart sank when I saw Robin's name flash across my screen. Fear and panic gripped me for a second until I remembered all I had to do was not answer it. Obviously, he had no idea where I was or he wouldn't be calling.

I put the phone back to my ear without even telling dad there had been another call. Dad asked me a few questions, but he knew by my short, whispered answers that I wasn't really in the mood to talk. He seemed content to have me just sit there on the phone. Every once in a while he would say, "Are you still there?"

I would respond with, "Yes sir," and we'd go right back to being quiet.

Robin called four or five more times in a row and finally sent a text asking where I was. The adrenaline I'd been feeling must have subsided somewhat because I began to feel pain in my face and back, and numbness from the cold in my feet, hands, and nose. My lungs were still burning as well. I gathered my knees to my chest tightly, sank my face into the T-shirt that was stretched over them, and began to cry.

"Emily?" my dad said. "Are you okay?"

I was still holding the phone to my ear, but I had totally forgotten he was there. "I'm okay," I said doing my best to stop sobbing. "I'm just cold and a little scared that's all. I'm ready for you to be here."

"I'm going as fast as I can, sweetheart. There's no traffic, and I should be there in just a minute. Just hold on. Do you need to knock on someone's door?"

"No sir." We stayed silent for the next few minutes. I did my best to keep from crying even though I really wanted to.

I felt overwhelmed with joy when I saw his truck coming down the street. He was driving slowly, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was my dad.

"I see you," I said to him. My legs were stiff and numb as I unfolded them to get to my feet. I groaned with the effort, feeling pain in my legs and my back.

I saw his brake lights come on at my words, which further confirmed that it was him. "Do you want me to pull into a driveway?" he asked.

"No, just stay there. I'm on my way." I held the phone to my ear as I ran across the yard and into the street. There was no reason for it; I was just so dazed that I didn't even think to hang up.

My dad's truck door opened when he saw me. He started to get out and extended his hands as if he thought he might take me into his arms, but I shook my head and waved him away. "Just get in and drive," I said.

I was stooped over as I ran, and my words came out a few octaves lower than normal. He stared at me with concern, but got back in his seat while I crossed in front of the truck to the passenger's side.

The door was cracked when I got there, and I looked in to see that my dad was now stretched across the cab, pushing it open for me. I climbed into the truck and closed the door, feeling more relieved than I had ever felt in my life, and he took off instantly.

"Why were you limping, Emily? Did Robin hurt you?"

I leaned over with a long, relieved sigh, sinking my head between my knees.

"Emily, are you okay?" he pressed.

"I'm okay, Dad. I'm just freezing, and I'm glad to be in your truck. Thank you for coming to get me."

"Did Robin hurt you?"

"I don't think he meant to," I said, shivering. I wasn't taking up for Robin by saying that. The reason I said it was that I thought my father would assume I had terrible judgment for getting myself into a situation like this. "He's been getting jealous lately," I explained.

My teeth were chattering so hard that it was hard to speak. He turned up the heater, and I adjusted the vents and huddled in front of them in an effort to get warmer. "It seems like he's been getting more and more possessive of me. He thought I was flirting with someone at the party tonight and he got really upset."

"Did he hit you, Emily?" His words were slow and deliberate.

I wanted to lie to him, but I knew there was physical evidence. "Yes sir," I said, unable to believe it myself.

Jesse Bennett reared back hit the steering wheel with his fist and called Robin an obscenity that meant he was a fatherless child. I had never in my life heard my dad utter a cuss word, but this one came out with no effort whatsoever.

I looked his way, and he took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at me. His expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry baby. I just can't stand the thought of him laying a hand on you."

He looked back at the road and I watched as his jaw flexed and his hand tightened around the steering wheel before he continued in an even calmer tone. "I hope you're not planning on seeing him anymore," he said.

"No sir."

I swallowed at the thought. I'd been thinking lately about what my life would be like without Robin, but saying it out loud made it hit me in a whole different way.

I swam dizzily in the craziest mix of emotions as we drove back to my parents' house.

Chapter 11

My mom was waiting anxiously when we returned. My parents' front door had a large window, and I could see her standing there staring through it in spite of the large Christmas wreath hanging on the outside. Her hands were clutched in front of her chest, and she was wearing a worried expression.

"Goodness, baby," she said, opening the door as I crossed the front porch, "you must be freezing."

I walked straight into her arms without responding. "She's shivering," I heard her say to my dad. She ran her hand over the back of my head. "It's no wonder. Her hair's soaking wet."

She pulled me into the house and grabbed a throw blanket off of the back of one of the chairs to wrap around my shoulders. She sat beside me on the couch before staring up at my dad. "Go make her something warm, please, Jesse." She said in hushed tones so as to not disturb Thomas who was no doubt sleeping. She glanced at me. "Tea, or hot chocolate?"

"It doesn't matter," I whispered.

"Bring some tea," she told my dad.

He took off toward the kitchen, and my mom, with a hand on the top of my back, looked me over with concern flooding her expression. "Tell me what happened, Emily."

I went through the whole story. I told her everything that happened that night, and then rewound to the incidents that had been building up to it. I shivered until the combination of the tea and blanket finally warmed my bones.

My parents and I sat on the couch and talked for over an hour. The lights of their Christmas tree were on and sparkling, which added to my sense of comfort. I knew none of it was my fault, but I couldn't help but feel embarrassed as if part of the responsibility was somehow mine.

Also, I couldn't help the feeling of sadness that washed over me and the thought of this chapter of my life coming to an end. For the past three years, I had my happily ever after worked out in my head. I thought I was going to be one of the Bullers, and the thought of losing Robin and everything that came with him created a painful void.

As I told them everything that happened, I realized that it should have been easy for me to say I was leaving him, but it wasn't. I wouldn't think of myself as someone who was overly concerned with material possessions, but choosing to turn my back on a life of wealth was extremely difficult. I kept finding myself wanting to make excuses for him just in case I decided to change my mind. I knew in my heart that wasn't an option, though. His jealousy issues had only gotten worse lately.

During our conversation, my parents, of course, asked me where I was physically hurt. I told them about my face and back, and they turned on the overhead light so they could inspect the damage. Aside from some redness, there wasn't much to see just yet, but I figured based on the fact that it was still throbbing that there would definitely be bruises in both places.

My mother tried to keep it together during our conversation, but she shed a few tears at the sight of my pain. I was exhausted, and felt overwhelmed physically and emotionally.

We had been on the couch for about an hour when there was a knock at the door. My heart sank, knowing that at this hour, it could only be one person. I didn't even glance at the door to see who it was. My dad got to his feet instantly, and I heard him mumbling as he crossed the living room. "What does he think he's doing showing up here?" he murmured. He opened the door and stepped outside.

My mom put her arm around me with her hand resting over my ear as if to shield me from the conversation that we may or may not even be able to hear, but I wanted to hear it, so I pulled her hand away. I heard Robin say something about how he been trying to call me and was worried when I didn't pick up my phone, and then my dad came back with something about how I wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place if it wasn't for him. They raised their voices a few times.

I heard Robin say, "I love her," and my dad respond with, "It's too late for that," but I couldn’t make out much else.

They spoke for a few minutes before my dad finally came inside, locking the deadbolt behind him. I turned toward the door and watched my dad as he stared out the window, making sure Robin got in his car and left. He crossed to the sectional sofa where mom and I were cuddled up and sat on the other end of it.

He propped his elbows on his knees and sank his face into his hands, massaging his eyebrows a little bit before looking up at me. "That was Robin," he said, even though that was obvious.

"We know that, honey," Mom said. "What'd he say?"

"He apologized for scaring you." Dad let out a little humorless laugh. "He actually thought I was gonna let you leave here with him."

"Tonight?" my mom asked in a disbelieving tone.

My dad didn't answer her question. He just gave us a look that confirmed it.

"What'd you tell him?" she asked. "I told him it was over between the two of you." He glanced at me with a hopeful expression, wondering if I was okay with him saying that to Robin, and I gave him an almost imperceptible nod in reply.

We sat there in silence for what must've been a full minute before I finally said, "I'm gonna have to give him back everything he bought me." It sounded selfish coming from my own lips, but I only meant it to be practical since I officially wouldn't have a car.

"That's the least of your worries," my mom said, rubbing my shoulders in a comforting manner.

"It means I won't have a car," I said.

"We'll figure something out," my dad said. He stretched out and put a hand on my mom's leg. "We should try to get some rest."

My parents had a king size bed, and I ended up sleeping with them that night. It was something I hadn't done in probably ten years, but it seemed like the only logical thing for me to do. I did my best to lie still, but it was difficult to get comfortable. The right side of my face ached and so did the left side of my back, so it was almost impossible to find a good position. I didn't even think about asking my parents for some pain medicine until after we'd already been lying there for an hour and they were already asleep. I finally drifted off to delirious thoughts of possible ways my life would turn out.

I spent the entire next day in my parents' bed. I wanted nothing more than to just sit there and stare at the television all day, and they were happy to oblige. Christmas was only a few days away, and I knew I would have to come out eventually, but I needed one day to let everything sink in. I considered joining the family that afternoon, but leaving the bedroom still didn't feel like something I wanted to do. I heard Mom, Dad, and Thomas stirring around in the house, and I just didn't have it in me to go out there.

Thomas was extremely concerned about my sudden urge to stay holed up in my parents' room, and he peeked his head in several times to check on me. I told him I wasn't feeling well, which was true.

The sun had already set when my mom came in to ask if I would join them for dinner. I figured I might as well make the effort since staying in there for the rest of my life wasn't an option.

I hadn't looked at my phone all day. It had been in the living room while I was in the bedroom, and I hadn't even thought about going to get it or asking one of them to bring it to me. I figured I should at least take a look at it, so I planned on checking it when I went in there for dinner.

My dad had a fire going, and Thomas was sitting on the hearth, craning his neck to see what was on the television. It was an episode of American Pickers—the same thing I'd been watching on my parents' TV.

"Emilyyy!" Thomas said, holding his arms in the air the second he caught sight of me. "Hellooo!" he added dropping his arms. He said the word
hello
in an odd voice that made me glance at my dad who gestured at the TV.

"He's imitating that guy on this show," Dad said.

"Hellooo!" Thomas said again, so I could check out how accurate his imitation was.

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I said, "That's pretty good, Thomas."

He smiled proudly. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"I nodded as I sat on the couch.

"I know you broke up with Robin," he said.

"You do?" I asked.

"We told him what was going on," my dad said.

"Yeah, because I knew it," Thomas said.

"What'd you know?" I asked.

"I knew you weren't just sick. You've been sick lots of times, and you never sleep in Mom's bed."

I gave Thomas my best version of a smile despite my sore jaw. "I can't slip anything past you," I said.

"And I know he hurt you because I see that mark on your face," he said. My hand went to the place on my jaw where the impact had been.

"It's not right there," Thomas said.

I glanced at my dad who said, "It's closer to your mouth." He added, "It's not bad, though," for my benefit.

"That's not what you said a minute ago," Thomas said. "Remember? You and mom were talking about calling the cops."

Dad looked at me with a patient half smile. "Your mother and I mentioned a restraining order, but obviously that's something we would have to discuss with you." He focused his attention on Thomas. "I don't think your sister wants to talk about it right now," he said.

"I need to," I said. "I can't just pretend it didn't happen. I need to make plans to get his things back to him, and I need to start thinking about how I'm gonna get around."

My mom came in the living room and we had a conversation about all of those things. We decided to go to my apartment the next day after they got home from church. I would find everything Robin had given me over the years and bring it to his parents' house since my car was parked there already.

I knew I wanted to stay at my parents' house for the next few days—maybe even through Christmas, but I figured I would ultimately try to stay in my apartment as long as I could afford it. I felt scared, and thought about telling my parents I wanted to move back home, but something about that felt wrong. I knew I might have to change my mind if I couldn't afford it, but I felt like giving up my independence right away was somehow letting Robin win.

There was a lot to think about, and I was happy to have my family there to help me talk through it. I took up residence in my own room after dinner that night so I wouldn't infringe on my parents privacy any longer. They made sure I knew I was welcome to stay, but I felt fine sleeping in my old bedroom.

I took my phone with me, and checked it for the first time once I was settled in my room. I had 20 missed calls and 10 texts, and all of them except a few were from Robin. One text was from Carly, and a few others were from my friends, but otherwise they were all from Robin. I read and responded to the text from Carly and my friend Chelsea, but didn't even look at Robin's right at first.

Curiosity finally got the best of me, and I stretched out on my bed as I listened to his messages one by one. He hadn't left a message every time he called, but there were eight voicemails from him, and all of them were incredibly pitiful. I cried as I listened, tears streaming down the side of my face and landing on my bed. He sounded desperate and hurt as he pleaded with me to forgive him.

It made me want to call him, go to him, reconsider everything, but I knew I couldn’t. I remembered the way his hand connected with my face—the way it sent me flying backwards into the vanity. Then, I listened to another message and would start to feel bad for him again.

I was so conflicted by the time I finished all of them that I thought I might actually call him back. I decided to look in the mirror one time before doing it. I hadn't glanced at myself all day, and wanted to see if the physical evidence of his abuse would sway me one way or the other. If there was barely anything on my face, then maybe I was overreacting—maybe Robin deserved a second chance. He'd been crying and begging for one in the messages. His desperate pleas tugged at my heartstrings.

I turned on my bathroom light and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Thomas was right; the bruise that I thought had been on my jaw was actually closer to my mouth. I got closer to the mirror, and upon further inspection, there was indeed a bruise on my jaw—it's just that the darkest, most noticeable part of it was the area that extended toward my mouth.

I stared at myself for a long time.

I did a lot of reflecting in those minutes. It wasn't about Robin. It wasn't about Shane. It had nothing to do with my love life at all. As I stared in the mirror, I knew in my heart that if I truly trusted God, everything else would fall into place.