Broken Heartbeat

Chapter 4

(Jasmine's POV)

Ignoring her words and horror filled face; I clamber into Ruby's car and tug my backpack onto my lap. She doesn't waste a second before climbing in on the driver's side of the vehicle. She stares at me incredulously for several minutes, before putting the car into first gear and leaving the parking lot when she realises I'm not going to say anything.

"Jasmine, what's happened to you?" Ruby asks again as she pulls out onto the main road. I glance out the window and I try to relax as I take in all the familiar sights from my childhood.

He isn't here. He isn't here. He isn't here.

I hear Ruby let out a sigh as her hand reaches out and takes mine gently. I try my best not to flinch at her touch but fail miserably. I glance over at Ruby to see if she's noticed but thankfully her eyes are glued to the road in front.

In that instant, I realise how incredibly jealous I am of my best friend. I'm not jealous of her life, her figure, her boyfriend or even her gorgeous little daughter, Mireya. No, I'm jealous of Ruby's ignorance. I'm jealous that she doesn't know anything of what I've been through. I'm jealous of the fact that she doesn't have to look over her shoulder in fear. I'm jealous that she doesn't lie awake at night after her boyfriend abused her for hours until she bled. I'm jealous that she isn't petrified to eat anything more than the food allocated to her by her boyfriend in fear of being beaten to a pulp. I'm jealous that she doesn't know the terror of not knowing when she was going to be next r@ped by her so called boyfriend.

Before I realise, tears start to trail slowly down my face once more. Ruby gives my hand a slight squeeze, nothing painful – just reassuring me as we continue the drive back to her house.

I sit silently in the passenger seat and wonder how Ruby will react when I tell her what's been happening to me. I don't know when or how I'll tell her the truth, but I know I will. She's my best friend and I can't expect her to welcome me into her home without some sort of explanation. We haven't seen each other in over two years simply because Greg wouldn't permit me to do so. I haven't even seen my Dad in those two years. I've spoken to him over the phone, but that's all I was allowed to do.

Fifteen minutes later, I find myself following Ruby into her welcoming kitchen. Toys are scattered across the white tiled floor, evidence that 4-year-old Mireya was having a tea party with her stuffed toys this morning. Ruby places her keys on the kitchen table and makes her way towards the kettle. She fills it up and flicks it on, before turning to look at me.

I stand in the middle of her kitchen; my backpack remains clutched in my hands. My eyes trail over Ruby's clean, healthy appearance. No doubt, I don't look quite as healthy or as clean her. I know I've lost a bit of weight since we last seen each other so I'm sure I look somewhat different.

"Go put your stuff upstairs," Ruby finally says, breaking the silence between us. "You can take the first room on the right."

I give her a weak smile as I leave the room, unable to voice my thanks right now. She seems to notice and returns my smile. Now that I'm here in her home, the worry starts to kick in. How will I tell her? How will she react? But most worryingly, what will she think of me? I glance over my shoulder at her only to find her own worry filled eyes starting back at me.

Upstairs I find a large spacious bedroom. A queen size bed is flush against the wall opposite me, complete with a pink and cream comforter and matching pillows. Floor length curtains in the same colour scheme stand on either side of the large bay window, with a cream chaise lounge sitting underneath the window ledge. Looking down I see a fuzzy cream carpet that looks like fluffy clouds and I instantly know it'll feel like heaven against my feet.