Page 22 of Evidence of Deceit

Could he tell she was scared senseless? That she had no idea how to rebuild her life with no money, no job, no life, and was always looking over her shoulder?

In addition, she was not sure how to process being with Joe. He not only dumped her after high school but he left. Even though he knew she wanted to be with him. Hardly took time to say goodbye, have a nice life, before he was off to join the Navy. She’d been left empty. Devastated. Hurt. But that was years ago. She’d gotten past the hurt. Hadn’t she? It had taken a long time to get over those feelings, and now they were dredged up again. A heart-to-heart conversation with Joe needed to happen at some point.

“So, tell me, do you still paint?”

Well, that came out of left field.Paint? Visions of spilled paint and slashed canvases filled her mind. She shook her head. “No, Keith didn’t like my painting. Took too much of my time.”

“Bastard.” He shook his head. “Will you tell me how you met him? Why did you fall in love with him? Was he always controlling?”

Claire felt a flush creeping down her cheeks. Her mouth dried up. She coughed and cleared her throat. Could she curl up and disappear right now? Maybe if she clicked her heels, she could be transported to Oz. If she thought talking to Sam and Mark had been humiliating, it was nothing compared with telling Joe. The boy who thought she was perfect. How could she tell her humiliating story to the man she had laughed with and coveted for years? She didn’t want his pity.

Strong, calloused hands covered hers. Joe was kneeling in front of her. His dark brown eyes glistened with tears. “Claire, nothing you can say will ever change my mind about how I see you. You are a strong woman who, through no fault of her own, ended up in a bad situation.”

She wiped the corners of his eyes with her thumbs, ran her fingers down his cheeks. “Oh, I was strong for a while, but Keith’s constant intrusion into every hour of the day wore me down.”

Joe moved back to the sofa, bringing Claire to sit beside him. He held her hand, motioned with his head to continue.

“I met Keith at the art gallery I was working at. I had a few paintings on display that were for sale. He said he liked my pictures, and we talked for hours. When the gallery closed, he asked if I wanted to get a drink and continue our conversation. It was still early, so I said yes.

“From that night on, he pursued me, and God help me, I loved it. I had gone on a few dates with a friend of his. Ithought Mason and I were good friends, but apparently, Mason wanted more. Keith insinuated himself in my life, and Mason stopped coming around. Keith would send flowers; he wined and dined me. He made me laugh. We went on a couple of weekend trips. He encouraged me to paint. He was interesting and smart. After three months, he asked me to marry him. It was fast, but I was so in love, I said yes.”

Oh, it had been happy times at first. Keith had a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. He had set up a studio for her with wonderful sunlight. They made love all the time. They were happy—for a while.

“The abuse started a few months into our marriage. Keith let the housekeeper go, saying I could do a better job, plus he didn’t like having another person in the house. But he didn’t like the way I cleaned. I was punished for that. He didn’t want me to work, so I quit the gallery and took the job at the museum two days a week without pay. Some of the wives in our social circle worked there, and that way he could keep tabs on me.”

Joe sighed and tapped his fingers on her arm. “Usually children repeat what they learned at home. Was his father an abuser?”

“His father never liked me. Keith had alluded to problems between his father and mother. He always told me that his father advised him to control whoever he married. Keith had laughed about that. Should have known then.”

“What an example to set for your kid.” He shook his head. “You never left him or sought out a divorce lawyer?”

“A lot of the lawyers were friends of his. When it got really bad about a year into our marriage, I did try to leave. That was a mistake.”

That night after he’d brought her home, he raped her twice, then left.

She’d hoped that he had enough sex—he hadn’t. She prayed he thought she had been punished enough—he hadn’t.

She shook her head and rubbed her face. She was so not telling Joe that story. Every time she remembered that night, the scars on her back started itching.

“Did you ever tell anyone about the abuse?”

“Yes. I confided once to the wife of one of the lawyers in the firm, who then told her husband. They were appalled. But when her husband confronted Keith, he fired him, and then he ruined their reputations. They couldn’t get jobs in the city. They had to move across the country. He laughed and then threatened to ruin anyone I told.”

Joe’s eyebrows pinched together. “Were you able to get away again?”

She nodded. “I tried another time. Keith found me and destroyed my studio.”

Joe groaned.

“The third time, this time, a new friend helped. Sheri had been abused herself, so she knew how to disappear. She held on to what little funds I could get my hands on and lent me some money to get started. She bought a bus ticket and a burner phone for me.”

Oh, it had been difficult. Claire hadn’t known who to trust, but when Sheri started working at the museum and one day noticed bruises on her arm, she questioned her. It was the worst day and the best day of her life. Keith had been so careful up until that point not to leave bruises where people could see them. Claire had forgotten they were there.

Sheri had confided that she had left an abusive relationship and recognized the signs. She conspired with Claire on how to get away. The plans were in place six months before Claire left.

“I took the bus here after confirming that Mark would let me stay for a while. Time enough to make some plans, maybeearn some money. After that, I didn’t have a plan.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes, exhaled and continued.

“Keith is smarter than I give him credit for. He found me after a few days. He showed up here and told Mark I was having a mental breakdown. That’s when I left and found the shelter. Sam found me and asked me to come back.” She stretched out her arms. “And here we are.”

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