I TOLD ME SO - an excerpt

The day started out as usual. My husband left in the morning to drive his delivery route for a local furniture store. The kids went to school, and I went to work. The evening was full of activity, typical with an active family of four children. I was settling into bed with our kids on either side of me, already fast asleep. My husband had been outside in his work van for nearly an hour. I didn’t know what he was doing, but honestly I didn’t really care. It was my chance to get into bed and at least pretend to be asleep, hoping he wouldn’t want to disturb me or the kids and just go to sleep himself. My hopes were dashed as soon as he entered our bedroom.

“What is this number on your phone?”

I continued to pretend to be asleep. I felt a shove on my shoulder.

“Hey! I asked you. What is this number on your phone?”

I looked over my shoulder at a phone being shoved in my face. I tried to focus on the number to see if I recognized it. I took the phone from his hands and looked at the time of the call, starting to rack my brain with the events of the day to see if I could remember who the call was from.

“I don’t really remember. I think it was a wrong number.”

“Wrong number? That’s a likely story. Do you want to try telling me the truth?”

“The number isn’t saved in my phone, so I don’t know who it was.”

“Do you think that I’m so stupid that just because the number isn’t saved, I don’t know it’s your boyfriend?”

“Can you please keep your voice down? The kids are sleeping. They don’t like it when you yell.”

“Don’t change the subject. You think the kids are going to save you? I’m not stupid. If you are so worried about the kids, why don’t you get your ass out of bed? I’m not going to let you go to sleep until you tell me the truth. You think I don’t know that you sleep around? Should I wake the kids up and tell them their mom is a whore?”

“It’s really late. Can we just go to sleep? I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know who that was.”

“How about I give them a call? Does he know you’re married?”

I slowly slid into a sitting position, as smoothly as I could to not wake the kids. I took my legs one at a time out from under the covers and made my way to the edge of the bed. Barely above a whisper, I said, “You can call if you want. It’s late. They don’t know who I am, but if it makes you feel better, call the number.”

He reached over and grabbed me by my throat. He lifted me off the bed and shoved me, pinning me to the wall, still holding me by my throat. I could breathe, but his grip was so tight it was painful, and I was unable to swallow.

“You know if you leave me, nobody else will want you, right? You’re lucky I put up with your shit. You think I can’t get custody of the kids and replace you tomorrow? Every girl I meet wants to be with me. You’re nothing.”

I grabbed his arm that was holding my throat with both hands. I tried to push away just enough to take a little pressure off my windpipe. I managed to whisper, “I really need to pee. Can I please use the bathroom? I’ll be right back.”

I could see the hesitation in his eyes, like he could sense I was up to something. I guess he ultimately decided I wouldn’t be able to escape the bathroom and released his grip, shoving me toward the bathroom door.

 “Don’t think this is getting you out of telling me the truth. You have two minutes.”

I slowly closed the bathroom door. I was shaking uncontrollably as I quietly turned the lock on the doorknob. This is it, I thought to myself. I rushed for the phone I had hidden away and pressed the power button. It seemed like forever before it powered up. I flushed the toilet as I dialed 911. The 911 operator picked up. I turned on the sink faucet. The toilet was at the back of the bathroom, as far away from the door as possible, with a small half wall, providing a shield for a little bit of privacy. I sat on the floor in the space between the wall and the toilet and whispered into the phone. 

“I need help. I am afraid of my husband and I want the police here to help me leave.” I provided my address and pleaded with them to come quickly. They assured me the police were on their way, and I hung up the phone.

Almost immediately after hanging up, there was a knock on the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m almost done.” I wasn’t sure if I should stay in the bathroom and wait for the police or if I should open the door and try to act normal. My entire body trembled uncontrollably and I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep it together. A benefit of living in a small town is that it doesn’t take long for the police to arrive. I heard the doorbell. I silently unlocked the bathroom door, cracked it open, and listened. I heard the voices of my husband and another male, knowing it had to be the police. I rushed down the stairs and stood behind my husband, who was engaged in a conversation with the police and clearly confused as to why they were there. There were two officers at the door and once they saw me, they asked if everything was okay.

“No. I would like to take my children and leave.”

My husband tried to turn on the charm. He smiled at the police and gave a little chuckle. “She's just kidding. She gets so dramatic and overreacts, like she’s scared or something. I would never hurt a woman.”

The police let my husband know that if I wanted to leave with their help, that would be my choice. We agreed that I would take the kids and use the car he had purchased, with the understanding that I would return his vehicle the next day. The officers stood next to my husband in the kitchen. I grabbed two trash bags and dumped as many of mine and my children’s clothes in the bags as I could. I loaded the still sleeping kids into their car seats and drove away into the darkness, to my freedom. I had done it! I was giddy with the sense of freedom I hadn’t felt in years. I could hardly believe that all my years of planning and hard work had finally paid off. I knew there would be more difficult days ahead, but I knew I would never spend another day with my husband, and I never did.