Broken Soul

Chapter 1 (edited)

January 2014

I couldn't believe that I had been married almost a month already.  I loved being married and taking care of a house and husband.  Speaking of my husband, he should be walking in the door any minute; I already had his favorite dinner ready...New York strip steak, garlic mashed potatoes and steamed veggies and homemade rolls.  

I heard keys in the door and my heart quickened.  I loved Christian more than I ever thought I could love someone.  I heard the front door slam and it made me jump.  He didn't come to greet me instead I heard the door of his study slam.  I just thought I would give him a few minutes and if he didn't come down I would go to him.  

I sighed.  Fifteen minutes later I still hadn't seen him.  I went to his study and gently knocked on the door.  "What?!" an angry voice from the other side barked.  I cleared my throat.  "Christian, I'm sorry to bother you honey..."  "Then why the fuck are you then?" he snapped.  I swallowed hard.  "Sorry.  I just wanted you to know that dinner was ready whenever you wanted.  I won't bother you any more" I said my voice sounding hurt and sad.  I just turned and walked away and went back into the kitchen.  

I did my best to keep everything pipping hot.  About five minutes later he finally emerged from his study.  I didn't say anything or look at him, I just got up and fixed his plate.  As I put it down in front of him I got a mumbled "Thank you" out of him.  I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of his favorite beer and took it to him; after sitting that in front of him I went and fixed my plate.  We ate quietly; I didn't dare say anything.  I didn't want to get my head bit off.

After he finished his dinner before he got up and left I asked him if he would like dessert.  "What is it?" he asked gruffly.  "Italian Cream Cake" I answered without looking at him.  "With coconut?" he asked.  I nodded.  "Yeah, I'll take a slice" he replied.  I grabbed a small cake plate and put a nice size slice on it for him and went to our Keurig machine and fixed him a Colombian coffee.  I sat the steaming cup down in front of him and went back to the sink and started cleaning up from dinner.  I could feel his eyes on me but I still didn't dare look at him.  Sometimes he scared the shit out of me.  His temper could be fierce.  I remembered back to our engagement party and his brother, Brett, having to come and intervene in a situation where Christian had felt like a waiter was being disrespectful.  Brett warned me then about Christian but I blew him off.  I never told Christian but Brett gave me his cell number to call him anytime, for anything.

Lost deep in thought I didn't realize that Christian was standing next to me holding his plate and fork.  I gently took it from him making sure I told him 'thank you'.  "Look at me" he said softly.  I turned and looked into dark gray eyes.  He bent down and kissed me; he tasted of coconut and coffee and Christian.  I loved how he tasted.  "Dinner was wonderful.  Thank you" he said as he walked away and he retreated back to his study.  

I had no idea what he did in there all the time.  I was strictly forbidden to go in there at any time.  I finally finished getting the kitchen cleaned up; I decided to retire to the master bedroom, take a shower and crawled in bed with one of my favorite books "Rebecca" by Daphne du Maurier.  It was a classic and I never tired of reading it.  The cover was fading and the pages were dogeared and worn.  I'd had that book since I was in high school, a gift from my parents.  Being lost in the pages and transported back in time I realized an hour had passed and no Christian.  I decided to go and see where he was.

I knocked several times on his study door but he never answered.  Had he fallen asleep?  I hesitantly reached for the door knob and turned it, pushing the door open slightly.  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he was no longer in there.  I frowned and went to the garage door and opened it; his car was gone.  I went into the kitchen and grabbed my cell phone.  One text message was there and it was from Christian.  'Went out' was all it said.  I sighed loudly.  It was going to be one of those nights.  

I sadly went to the kitchen and grabbed a wine glass from above the island and poured a healthy glass of Shiraz.  One glass was all it took to make me fuzzy and light headed.  I gulped what was left and trudged back up the stairs and climbed in bed; before closing my eyes I glanced at the clock...it was 9:30 pm.   My eyes slowly drooped and no matter how hard I tried to stay awake I just couldn't so I let sleep claim me.

I woke with a start when I realized that someone was in the house.  I rolled over to the clock.  It was 2:34 am.  I heard laughter coming up the stairs; a man and a woman.  The bedroom door flung open and the light came on so quickly I didn't have time to acclimate my self after being in the dark.  My mouth fell open to what I was witnessing.  Christian was standing there, obviously intoxicated, with his arm around a blonde woman.  Her face fell when she realized that Christian was married and apparently the lie he'd spun was not true but it wasn't enough to make her walk away.  "You" he said roughly  and pointing at me.  "Get out!" he yelled.  I was so shocked by what was going on, I guess I didn't move fast enough.  

He'd grabbed me by my hair as I reached for my phone; he was pulling me from our bed.  "I said get the fuck out!" he yelled again slinging me out of our bedroom and then slamming the door shut.  I could hear them laughing and then I heard moaning and then I heard Christian tell the woman how good her pussy felt.  I covered my mouth and ran down to the guest bathroom and vomited several times, sobbing all the while.  I walked slowly to the kitchen and noticed that it had started to rain.  

January here in Seattle was still pretty cold that time of year but I didn't really care when I stepped outside in just a thin silk nightgown.  I could feel the cold, stinging pelts of the drops slamming my body and knew I was bitterly cold but I couldn't move.  I lifted my phone and dialed Brett's number.  It took a few rings before his sleepy voice answered.  "Chels, what's wrong honey?"  He knew immediately.  All I could really get out was "I...Christian...another woman...our bed" and then I broke into heaving sobs and just let the phone fall from my hand.  I could hear Brett calling out to me but I didn't answer; I just stood there praying that the rain would wash my sorrow away and would maybe wash me away with it.  I had no idea what my actions would cost me for the next few weeks.