How far was he going to take this?
“You can and you will!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
His face was red, and his lips were pulled back into something almost like a snarl.
For the first time in my life, my husband scared me.
So, I kept running.
And I kept crying.
***
That night, my teen daughter, Lily, padded into the nursery in her oversized hoodie.
For the first time in my life, my husband scared me.
Her phone was glued to her hand like always.
“Mom,” she whispered, tracing a finger over the baby’s tiny foot. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just tired.”
She clenched her jaw. “You shouldn’t be running like that.”
I didn’t know how to answer her, so I said nothing.
“You should tell Grandma Diane what he did,” she continued.
“You shouldn’t be running like that.”
I blinked at her, surprised.
Ryan’s mother was a steely but silent woman.
She’d listen if I told her what her son was doing, but she was more likely to judge him silently than confront him.
At least, that’s what I thought.
“Why would I need to tell Grandma anything?” I asked.
Lily shrugged. “She’s his mom… maybe he’ll listen to her if she tells him to stop.”
Ryan’s mother was a steely but silent woman.
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tried to smile.
“Go to bed, baby. I love you. And try not to worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She lingered in the doorway a second longer than usual.
I could tell she didn’t believe me.
I wasn’t sure that I believed me.
Then she was gone.
She didn’t believe me.
The first morning set the pattern, and every morning afterward carved it deeper into my bones.
Ryan would shake me awake at 5:30 sharp.
“Sneakers. Now.”
I learned not to argue.
Arguing meant a longer lecture, and a longer lecture meant less time to nurse before he pulled the baby out of my arms and pushed him toward Lily’s sleepy hands.
I learned not to argue.
I was already learning to shrink into smaller and smaller corners of my own life.
“Mom, you’re bleeding through your shirt,” Lily said one morning, her eyes wide as she took her baby brother.
“It’s fine, sweetheart. Go back to bed after his bottle.”
“Stop coddling her,” Ryan snapped from the doorway. “She’s a teenager. It’s time she learned to toughen up.”
He jangled his keys.
“Mom, you’re bleeding.”
Mrs. Alvarez from across the street was taking her trash out when I stepped outside.
She smiled at me at first.
Then she noticed Ryan climbing into the BMW behind me.
She frowned when I started my limping jog.
“No manches,” she exclaimed.
I lowered my eyes before she could ask if I was okay.
