left no room for me to offer comfort, sympathy—even my anger for her seemed insufficient, like it would be an insult to offer it. I wanted to stop this outpouring, this mechanical relation. I wanted to be a million miles away, with all of this just a faceless statistic and in a small, hidden part of myself, I knew I resented her for personalizing this atrocity.
The fact that I was spellbound only added to my horror.
Faith held up her glass to carefully observe the last half inch of amber liquid. Something about her expression was chilling, as though she was relishing holding us both in thrall with her story. She went on, calmly, deliberately. I had been telling myself ghost stories, and now she served me up a true tale of horror.
“The problem was, that in between times, things seemed really good, just like when we first met. There was always some excuse I could find to explain the last time. My fault or his, it couldn’t happen again. So things went on, what felt like normal life, until the next disappointment at work, the next too-big credit-card bill, the next…there was always a next. And Paul was always very careful to take me to a different hospital, always had a perfectly believable story. Who’d have doubted him? He was gorgeous, well respected—hell, people felt sorry for him, saddled with a wife who drank and popped pills and got herself into the worst accidents. He’s one hell of a good actor; he believed himself. I believed him. I helped: I developed a talent for lying. I became clever with makeup. I learned about first aid.”
I realized that she had been silent a moment and I, needing to fill up that awful silence, asked the only question possible under the circumstances.
“How did you ever manage to leave?”
Faith uttered a short, humorless laugh. “I was in the hospital, but this time it wasn’t because of Paul. I couldn’t stand the wait anymore. I decided to kill myself.
“Once I thought of that, I knew everything was going to be okay. I felt very calm; the tension simply left me, for the first time in years. There was this delicious sense of anticipation, like I was getting ready for a big date. I bought an expensive bottle of vodka, took a long, hot bath, and dressed in a silk nightie. A Billie Holiday record played as I set out the Valium and the vodka in a nice arrangement.”
I bit my lip, trying to resist imagining someone who so welcomed death.
Faith watched me for a moment, then continued. “When I woke up in the hospital, they told me how lucky I was that I threw up all the pills I’d swallowed. Lucky. Can you believe it? Then Paul came to visit. He charmed the devil out of everyone there; only this time I didn’t believe his soft words. You see, he’d found my note. I saw the look in his eyes, something I’d only ever seen the edge of before, and I knew, sure I was still breathing, that when I went home he would kill me. And no one would ever know about it.
“I decided that was one decision he wasn’t going to make for me,” she said. Inside I cheered, feeling giant relief at this welcome, recognizable emotion.
“So I told the nurse.” She said softly: “And then it was like going through withdrawal.”
The effect of three rapidly swallowed drinks was starting to catch up with Faith and her words became slurred and more insistent. I tried to say something, anything, but this had never been anything like a discussion.
“I won’t bore you with the details. Just let’s say that the legal system doesn’t do battered women any favors. Despite what you might think, domestic violence is not taken seriously. The day I was most afraid was the day that Paul went to prison. That’s when the really hard work began. Hard work on me, reshaping how I thought. But I did it.”
Faith got up and jabbed at the coals with the poker, startling hot life out of the embers. Turning, she must have seen me as I felt; horrorstruck, curled up and pressing myself into the back of my chair. She took pity on me, maybe, or maybe she was just getting tired. She shook her head, wobbling a little as she sat again.
“Emma, the good news is I got out.” She waved her hand drunkenly in front of her face and her