Page 33 of Come Back for Me
He sat in the back of the police car with me as silent tears drifted down my face. I was in pain, yes, but more so . . . broken. When we reached the entry to the driveway, he squeezed my hand gently in reassurance. I wiped my eyes and shoved down my sadness because I needed to be strong again. Hadley needed that.
Nothing could’ve stopped me from getting to her, so he ensured I was out of the car and standing before he went and opened the door. She rushed out, terror etched on her face, and then relief.
All I could do was touch her face, and give her assurance I was okay. Whether she knows it or not, she’s the bravest person I’ve ever known. My daughter saved my life, and I will never be able to forgive myself for it.
I comforted Hadley as much as I could before giving my statement and allowing the police to take photos of my injuries. As Connor bandaged my ribs, he had explained that they would need them for the court case. While he worked, I learned that he was a medic in the navy, which is why he wouldn’t let the EMT, Sydney, touch me.
It was a whole other level of humiliation, but I was grateful for my ability to shut myself down and be numb to it all. I let Connor do what he could and pretended I was on the beach, away from it all. I simply held my daughter, forgetting the pain, as she drifted off.
The door creeks open, and I startle, but Connor raises his hands immediately. “It’s just me. I’m coming to check on you.”
I do my best to relax back into the swing. “I’m . . . here.”
“How are you holding up?”
I shrug. “I’m not really sure. I’m still processing it all.”
“You did great with Sheriff Mendoza.”
I laugh internally. I didn’t do great with anything. My entire life has been a series of errors, trying to get away last night being the biggest. Last night, I sat there, telling him and the sheriff the story, hating myself, berating myself, as tears fell down my face.
There was nothing great about any of it.
“I’m not so sure of that. I was a mess.”
“You didn’t lie, and you told him everything when you didn’t have to. I’ve seen . . . there are people who cover up abuse because it’s easier. You were brave. You may not feel that way, and I’m sure you have your reasons for not leaving sooner, but you were, and I’m sure Hadley will see it that way.”
I look out at the sunrise, wishing I could find some solace in knowing that I lived to see it again, but I can’t. Regrets are what fill me, and there isn’t a slice of bravery there. “If I were brave, I never would’ve let it get this far. I would’ve left after the first time he made me feel weak and small. If so many things didn’t happen . . . if only I had run when he raised his hand to me that first time, my daughter never would’ve seen a bruise on her mother or a tear fall because he’d hurt me.”
“It’s easy to look at it that way, taking on the blame or playing the what-if game, but we make the choices we think are best at the time. We all have regrets.”
He can’t possibly mean that. People who aren’t in the situation look at it differently. I’ve heard people talk about those in bad relationships and how they wouldn’t do this and they wouldn’t do that. If someone isn’t living in those shoes, they can’t say what they’d do.
I never thought I’d be in an abusive relationship, but here I am.
When I was growing up, I was this smart girl who thought she would find a man who treated her well, and if they didn’t, they’d be gone. Then I met Kevin and was in this whirlwind relationship where he became my entire world and I became an outsider in my own story.
I am the one to blame.
“While I appreciate that, I disagree. I knew I needed to get out, but I made the choice to stay and hope he would change. That will forever be on me because I was too scared to see that he never would.”
Connor takes a sip of his coffee and offers me a sad smile. “I disagree with your disagree.” I let out a soft laugh and wince. “Are you okay? I really wish you’d have seen a doctor.”
I was checked out by the EMT named Sydney, and I only allowed that to convince her I wasn’t in grave danger. But my side is in so much pain that I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a cracked rib. “I’ll go tomorrow when she’s in school.”
“I need to at least clean the cut under your eye.”
“I appreciate that you want to help,” I say softly. “But I’m sure I can manage.”
Connor moves to rest against the rail, big arms crossed over his chest as though he could fight off the world if it came for him. “I understand if you’d rather that, but at least allow me to check your ribs. I’m sure they’re broken, and I want to make sure there are no signs of something more serious, especially if you’re putting off going to the doctor.”
“Okay,” I agree, knowing I won’t be able to look at it or touch anything there. Hell, I can barely breathe without wanting to cry. “I still can’t believe this is how last night went. I’m so...tired but don’t think I can sleep. All I keep seeing is his face and feeling the pain when he kicked me.”
We both fall silent. I don’t know why I’m admitting any of this to him.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Connor clears his throat. “Ellie, did your husband ever hit Hadley?” he asks with no traces of judgment, just curiosity.
“Not that I know of. He threatened . . . well, it’s why I finally left last night. He said if I tried to leave, he’d kill us both, and I believed him. I knew I had to leave. I knew that one more night was too many and didn’t care that my plan wasn’t in place or that we had no money or nowhere to go. I couldn’t stay another minute. I think he really would’ve killed me if you hadn’t shown up.”
