Page 2 of Tangled Trust

"What’s with you? I was just joking."

Damn it! I didn’t mean to do that. I’ve just had my fill of being interrogated about bloody Ryan.

"Shit. I’m sorry, Anna. I’m tired. I had a lousy night’s sleep, and I think I’m about to start my period."

"Alright. I’ll let it go. Are you okay? You seem a little jumpy lately."

I know I’ll eventually have to tell my best friend everything. I can’t believe I’ve hidden the truth from her so successfully for so long. It turns out that self-preservation is quite the motivator.

When Sebastian hit me the first time, I was sure it was a once-off. He’s a very passionate man, and everyone knows that A-type personalities are highly strung. Besides, he was so sweet and vulnerable when he begged me for my forgiveness. He swore to me then that he’d never done that before to anyone, and he made a promise that it would never happen again. And, being the lovesick fool that I was back then, I believed him.

By the second time he punched me, I was hopelessly in love with him and, as such, probably a little too keen to believe his excuses and platitudes. Who knows how I fell so deeply into the rabbit hole? But here I am in the bowels of the earth, looking up at the light beaming from above through an opening as small as the head of a pin.

All it takes is the piercing sound of a bed pan hitting the cold, tiled hospital floor, and, suddenly, the world is too much for me. The panic I’ve been holding in for months and months rushes to the surface, and I’m on my knees.

"Ella! What’s wrong? Ella!"

I can hear Anna’s voice as she calls my name, but the darkness pushes past everything, and before I can stop myself, I black out on the cold floor.

* * *

"What happened?"

I’m in a hospital bed, and Anna is standing next to me. She’s holding my hand.

"Ugh, my head."

"You scared the crap out of me, Ella! Are you okay?"

My friend touches my arm too hard where Sebastian’s fingers dug in the night before, and the pain makes me jump.

"Ella, what’s going on?"

I’m deadly tired. Tired of lying and pretending. Tired of hiding. But, most of all, I’m tired of being Sebastian’s punching bag. If I don’t tell Anna now, I fear I will fade away until there’s nothing left of the woman I worked so hard to become.

"Can we get out of here?" I ask. I don’t want the nurses and the patient ogling me while I share my tale of woe with Anna.

"Sure. Come on. Slowly," she says as I get up and swing my feet onto the floor.

I have to do this now before I lose my nerve. The shame of it all is as heavy as if an elephant were sitting on my chest. I cannot remember the last time I took a deep breath. Shallow breathing seems to be my thing now. That, and willing time to pass quickly.

Anna and I walk out of the hospital, where she and I are attending physicians, toward a coffee shop around the corner. She orders a double espresso, and I order a laté. I hope the milk doesn’t curdle in my washing machine-like stomach.

"Okay, Ella. Spill it. What’s wrong? And don’t give me this tired and getting your period crap. What’s really going on with you?"

I open my mouth to speak, and I’m shocked at the volume of pain and anguish that flows out like thick, liquid tar. I watch Anna’s eyes as she takes in the information I’ve been hiding from her for nearly twenty-three months now. What must she think of me? What a weakling I’ve become. I’m so ashamed. The words keep coming. It’s like a flood, and I cannot stop it until it’s all out.

"Say something, Anna."

"I…"

Is she disappointed in me? Is she going to tell me off? Is she going to call the police?

"Why? Why haven’t you said anything to me? You should have told me the first time he laid a finger on you."

"I know. I’m sorry."

"Oh, my dear friend. Come here," she says, throwing her arms around me.

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