Mafia's Desire

1

I hauled the few bags I'd packed out to the car. The used one I bought without Michael knowing. I hid enough money away over the last few months to purchase a cheap, used car in secret.

I glanced at my phone, seeing I still had quite some time until Michael was supposed to be home from work. After I put all of the bags in the trunk, I ran into the garage and smashed my phone with a hammer. I swept up the debris and dumped it into the trashcan.

Then I closed the garage door and walked back to the car, trying to act as normal and as calm as possible in case any neighbors were looking from their windows. If Michael asked them if they'd seen me, I wanted them to think I appeared calm and collected, not acting suspiciously in any way.

I pulled the car door open and then sat down. Taking a deep breath, I started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. When I reached the stop sign at the end of my road, I laughed so hard I almost started to cry.

I did it.

I actually did it. I'd left him. I'd left behind the man who I was once in love with. In the beginning, he was the perfect gentleman, always making time for me and making me feel like the most special girl in the world to him. Then I said 'I do.'

Everything changed after that. He became controlling and abusive. He was in command of every aspect of my life, leaving me no freedoms.

I wasn't allowed to leave the house without him. I wasn't allowed my own bank accounts anymore- he forced me to close them. I could only wear clothes he deemed acceptable. I was only allowed to keep my job because he was an arrogant man, obsessed with money. He controlled all of my funds. Out of my tips and paycheck, he took eighty percent of my money, leaving me with barely anything. I saved that money though until finally, I could leave him.

I smiled as I looked at the road ahead of me. Behind me was my old existence. It wasn't my old life, a life would imply I was living. I wasn't living, only merely existing. I was a shell of the person I once was, but that day, I began to take steps to get her back once again.

Behind me was my abuser. The man who promised to love and cherish me till death do us part. The man who promised he'd never hit me again. The man who apologized hundreds of times. The man who never meant any of those apologies. He was gone, and so was I.

I glanced down at the seat beside me, seeing the opened box of pregnancy tests. Inside that box lay two positive pregnancy tests. My stomach clenched as I looked at the box, as I thought about what they meant. I wasn't sure how I would make it on my own. How I would completely restart my life while simultaneously raising a baby by myself. I was scared and unsure, but I had to. The only person I had in my life was my unborn baby, and they deserved to have a mother who wouldn't quit on them. I wouldn't give up, I couldn't.

I patted my flat stomach and for the first time in two years, I felt a sense of hope.

Two weeks prior

"Can I please go to the store after I get off work today?" I asked as I stood in front of Michael in the kitchen.

"Why?"

"I wanted to make you a steak for dinner tomorrow and we don't have any in the freezer." My husband, the man I used to love, the man who I thought loved me, stared at me as though I was a bother to him. 

"Fine." He pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and handed me his credit card.

"Thank you," I said, taking the card from him.

He pushed off the kitchen counter and stood in front of me. I internally cringed, knowing what was about to happen. The lips I used to love to kiss disgusted me.