The Perfect Husband (6 page)

“Please don’t hurt Mommy. Please, Daddy,
please. Please don’t hurt Mommy.” Ben’s sobs came harder and his
body shook with fear, but he bravely held his ground. Isobel bit
down hard on her lip to hold back a torrent of tears.

“Ben, baby, please go back inside. Daddy and
I… We…we…”

With a savage curse, Nigel stepped back and
turned and moved away. He threw the knife across the room and it
clattered loudly into the sink. Isobel collapsed back against the
freezer door and dropped her head into her hands, sobbing out of
control. She trembled so violently, her legs gave out and she
crumpled to the floor.

In some distant part of her mind, she
registered the sound of Nigel’s boots on the tiles and then she
spied them inches from where she sat. One foot came out and
connected hard with the side of her leg. She cried out in pain and
buried her head harder against her knees. She didn’t know where her
son was, but she could no longer hold back the flood.

Tears poured down her cheeks. Nigel hunched
down beside her and she whimpered in fear and squeezed herself into
a tighter ball.

“One hour, Isobel. You and the kids. That’s
all the time I’ll need.”

Dear Diary,

They say a person’s eyes are the windows to
their soul. A deep hidden place which contains every one of their
secrets. Look long enough at someone and eventually you’ll see
their hidden truth; that little something everyone tries so hard to
mask behind layers and layers of falseness.

I know this truth: If someone stared at me
long enough, they’d see a woman caught up in the terror that her
own life has become. They’d see the reflection of hell.

Damn you, Father O’Dell! Even after all
these years, I still remember your dark, evil eyes, flashing with
hell and brimstone. The perspiration dripped from your skin and
became entangled in your thick beard. With your piercing gaze, you
preached to us sixth graders all those untruths during catechism
class. You scared me enough to envision hell as some hot, fiery
hole, a place of banishment for sins committed…

I might have believed hell was like that
then, but I know better, now. It’s not hot and fiery at all. It’s a
dark, desolate, lonely place, barren and cold and empty. Shrouded
by a silence so deep and impenetrable, one’s mind skitters between
sanity and madness and the seconds, minutes, tick away… A lonely
place, even in a crowd.

How did I get here? What awful sin did I
commit that God chose this as my punishment? I have no answers. All
I know is that I woke up one morning and found myself here. The
only sound I hear is the ticking of the clock:
tic toc, tic
toc, tic toc
… And it suddenly comes to me: I’m stuck. No matter
how much time passes, there’s no escaping him…

* * *

Isobel glanced over her shoulder, but the
staff car park was empty. She was late. No doubt the other staff
rostered onto the evening shift had already made it to their wards.
She was meant to start work at two-fifteen and it was now going on
for half-past. She’d fallen asleep beside Sophie right after lunch
and had woken tired and disoriented and in a panic.

After her nightmarish skirmish with Nigel,
she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go to bed. She’d spent the
night curled up on the couch in a ball of tension and fear. She’d
wracked her brain for a plan, for some hope that she could escape
with her children, but as the hours rolled over, she’d been
overwhelmed with hopelessness.

She had no one to turn to. The few friends
she’d had from her past were now a distant memory. Since arriving
at the Sydney Harbour Hospital, she’d resisted any attempts her
colleagues made toward friendships. They would only end in an agony
of embarrassment and disappointment as Nigel worked his evil magic
once again.

Behind the protection of their closed front
door, he’d belittle and criticize and offend until Isobel couldn’t
bear to listen to it and would let even the nicest of them go. It
had happened time and time again.

In the early days, she thought it was just
another way Nigel had found to hurt her, but now she knew the
truth. He’d isolated her from each and every outside influence.
Even her family wasn’t spared. It was part of his need to control,
to own her and her every single thought—and he’d won. He’d
won
.

Even her sister didn’t know what her life
was really like. Kat thought Nigel was the perfect husband. She had
no idea what went on when the door was closed. No, Isobel was on
her own. There was no one she could call. No one who could help
her. Except, perhaps the police.

The police.
She’d go to them in her
break and tell them what was happening, the threats, the beatings,
the…everything. She’d beg the police to help them, to arrest Nigel
and lock him up. And then, for the very first time, she’d be safe
with her children.
Safe.
She could barely fathom how that
would feel.

But for now, the police would have to wait.
She was already late for work. With a bit of luck, Nigel would be
too busy in the operating room to check on her during her breaks.
More often than not, he called the ward. She’d try and get one of
the other nurses to cover for her, in case her interview with the
police went overtime. Provided her courage held, by the end of her
shift, the nightmare might be over. She lived in hope…

* * *

“Isobel, wait up!”

Mason spied her up ahead of him and hurried
to catch up. He’d been hoping she was working the evening shift. It
had been nearly a week since he’d seen her, but she was never far
from his thoughts. Over and over again, he replayed the scene when
she’d looked so sad and hopeless—and the growing suspicion that
there was something very wrong in her life just wouldn’t go
away.

He thought again of seeing what had looked
like bruising around her eye and his jaw tensed.
If that bastard
was hurting her…
His fists clenched. He couldn’t even bear to
complete the thought. She turned slowly to face him and he couldn’t
help but notice the sadness and resignation that yet again shadowed
her face.

“How are you?” he asked gently, coming up
close.

“I’m fine,” she replied in a voice that was
far from sounding fine.

He tilted her chin up with his finger so
that she was forced to make eye contact. She flinched away. The
desolation in her gaze broke his heart. “You’re not fine, Belle. I
don’t know who you’re trying to convince, but it’s not working on
me. I know you. I
know
you. Remember?

“Your colleagues might think that the quiet
and subdued nurse with the flaming red hair is the woman known as
Isobel Wes…Donnelly, but I know better. I know the real Isobel, the
one who laughed and danced and hummed sweet tunes, the girl who was
always surrounded by friends. Over all the years we spent together
in high school, I never once saw you sad and alone.” He shook his
head.

“And yet, a decade later, I run into you and
it’s like you’re someone else. On the outside, though you’re a lot
thinner, you still look much like the girl I knew, but on the
inside, when I look into your eyes, all I see is an emptiness, like
the spark, the spirit inside you has died.”

He drew in a breath and a sense of urgency
rushed through him, as if he had to solve the mystery, to discover
the secrets behind her green eyes and if he didn’t, all would be
lost. He didn’t know where the feeling came from, but it was too
strong to deny.

“Talk to me, Belle. I want to help. I want
to take away your pain. I want to bring back the Belle of old. I
want to hear you laugh again.” In an effort to convince her, he
took her by the arms. His grip tightened unconsciously, a little
more with every word he uttered. She stepped back and rubbed her
arms.

“I’m sorry, Belle. I hope I didn’t hurt you.
I just—” He broke off with a sigh of resignation. He had to let her
go. She wasn’t his to love and to hold. She wasn’t then and she
wasn’t now and the odds were she never would be.

When he’d told her a decade ago that he
loved her, she’d smiled kindly and brushed his declaration away. He
was certain she didn’t have a clue he was still in love with her
and it wasn’t right or fair for him to let her know now. She was
married to Nigel, the man of her dreams. Together, they were the
perfect couple. He only wished he saw even a little of the same joy
in her gaze that he had ten years ago. Defeated, his shoulders
slumped and he turned away.

She surprised him then when she reached out,
and stopped him. He couldn’t help the sudden traitorous leap of
hope.

“I’m on a break in ten minutes,” she
whispered. “Will you meet me in the cafeteria?” She stared at him
and he stared right back. Her eyes pleaded with him.

Hoping he wouldn’t live to regret it, he
nodded.

As if she’d been holding her breath, she
exhaled in a rush. “I’ll see you there.”

* * *

Isobel made her way across the crowded
cafeteria and tried to still her trembling limbs. Ever since she’d
agreed to talk to Mason, she’d worried over her decision. He’d
called her Belle—his childhood nickname for her. His words, and the
sweet endearment, had reminded her of everything she’d lost, of a
time she didn’t live in fear of her husband, or anyone else. Those
days seemed so dim and distant now.

Other than when she immersed herself in
work, she couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t felt afraid.
And now she wasn’t just afraid for herself. His latest threat to
the children sapped any strength and peace of mind she’d had
left.

She found an empty table in the far corner
of the room. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into
her husband. Nigel never ate in the cafeteria. Instead, he
preferred to dine at a nearby café. Besides, there were enough
people around her that it would be unlikely he’d spy her sitting
inside if he happened to walk past.

She glanced at her watch. Unless he’d been
waylaid, Mason should arrive any minute. Once again, a wave of
nerves tightened her belly. She’d invited him to meet with her for
the express purpose of confiding her troubles, but the more she
thought about it, the more she questioned the wisdom of getting him
involved. She had no right to expect his help or his sympathy.

Okay, so they’d known each other in high
school and he’d confessed to having a crush, but that was a decade
ago. He owed her nothing. If they hadn’t run into each other at
work, she would never have thought to contact him.

It was just that he’d surprised her and he’d
been so kind and gentle and sweet. He’d looked at her with such
concern. It had been a long time since anyone had done that, so
well had she hidden her pain. She was the needy one, the one who
was living a lie. Was it fair to drag him into the sorry, sad mess
that was her life?

And there was also the question of trust.
She’d watched him on the ward, interacting with the staff and
patients. He was a good and honorable man, full of kindness and
compassion, but could she depend on him to keep her confidence? She
wanted to believe she could, but she’d been so wrong about her
instincts before.

The whole time she’d dated Nigel, she’d
never once felt the slightest bit alarmed. Not a single warning
bell had sounded. A few times, she’d been annoyed at his occasional
pettiness or the way he’d criticized her friends, but nothing that
gave her even an inkling of the man he would become.

She wanted to believe Mason was different.
He exuded goodness and safety and strength. She’d never noticed it
in high school, but back then, safety and security were a long way
down on her list. She’d been all about having fun and enjoying life
to the fullest, working hard and reaching for her dreams—and most
of all, making a home with Nigel, the man she’d loved.

As she sat there, considering the dreams
she’d had as a teen, the awful realization of how far her life had
drifted off course hit her with a sickening jolt. The knowledge
that her children were growing up in such an unhappy, dysfunctional
household, filled her with sadness and more than a little panic.
She hadn’t seen it coming, so different was the reality of her life
from how she’d grown up and what she’d imagined for her future.

She remembered how Nigel had tightened his
hands around her neck until she was certain she would black out,
and then most recently, when he’d held a knife against her throat.
She recalled the way he’d bragged about what he’d learned in the
books about serial killers and murder and other nameless horrors
and shuddered.

And then there were the sleeping pills…

The idea that her husband had it in him to
kill her filled her mind with so much horror she tried to block
those thoughts, but try as she might, she couldn’t. She was living
a nightmare with no avenue of escape.

“Why the sad face? You look like your dog
just chewed up your favorite Jimmy Choos.”

She looked up and saw Mason grinning down at
her, but even his lame attempt at a joke failed to penetrate her
misery. As if sensing her fragile emotional state, his grin faded
and when he took a seat opposite her, his expression was
solemn.

“I’m sorry, Belle. I shouldn’t have joked
like that. It’s obvious something’s wrong. Why don’t you tell me
what’s going on?”

She dropped her gaze and was once again
flooded with indecision. Was she really ready to leave her husband,
walk out on her marriage? And what about her kids? It appalled her
to think that if she did leave Nigel, they’d just become children
from another broken home.

But what choice did she have?
If
Nigel carried through on his unspoken plans, she’d more than likely
be dead and her children along with her. She couldn’t take the risk
that he’d follow through on his threats and there was no way she
was going to leave her babies alone to live with Nigel without
protection…