On My Way - Eve Langlais Page 0,18

his request for bail, citing her belief he posed a danger. Martin lost it, ranting and raving, his face a florid mask of anger. A blustering bully, losing his hair, with a paunch and no real muscle tone.

In that moment, eyeing the man who’d made my life a never-ending tiptoe on eggshells, it hit me that he didn’t scare me anymore. He could yell, threaten, call me all the names he liked. I chose to not be his victim anymore.

Even when he glared at me, I stared right back and said nothing. When they removed him, I smiled and—being a bit more of an asshole than I ever suspected—waved goodbye. He lost his shit again and had to be dragged out. Made me wonder how nuts he might have gone if I’d blown him a kiss.

His cursing and screaming followed me out of that courtroom that day, but with each step, I grew stronger. I’d done it. I’d escaped him. Started over. He couldn’t hurt me anymore.

When my lawyer called to warn me Martin escaped, I did spend those first few nights sleeping in a chair in the living room. Woke up sore, so, after that, I took a butcher knife to bed instead. But it had been five days since his escape, and nothing. It was my belief he’d fled Canada back to the US of A. Good riddance.

Turning from the pictures and the mystery of my daughter suddenly appearing in them, I trudged the rest of the way to my room. For all I knew, Wendy added them. Which seemed most likely once I thought about it. It explained why there were no pictures of her brother. Sibling rivalry was alive and well with my kids.

I stripped out of my clothes and kicked them into a pile by the wall. My laundry basket was downstairs with the clean load I’d yet to put away. In my underwear and nothing else, I padded to the dresser to get a nightgown and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I didn’t look away. I wanted to, but instead I forced myself to examine my body.

The weight loss was drastic enough even I could notice it. My pear shape had returned to a more hourglass form, if large. My breasts hung heavily, more than a handful but the nipples pointing in the wrong direction. When I’d breastfed, they were hard cannons; now they were deflated balloons. Just like my shrunken middle had turned into a bulky tire. It hung over my pubes. I hated it.

Hated my body.

This was why I’d recoiled from the kiss with Darryl. The fear of showing him what I’d become. Of having his rejection or disgust. I didn’t know if I could handle it.

How did anyone do it? Show themselves to someone else. The vulnerability of it scared me. The fear of rejection too strong to overcome.

Maybe dating wasn’t in the cards for me. Surely, I could find fulfillment and happiness on my own.

I covered myself with a voluminous nightgown and crawled into bed. The moment I pulled the covers over me, my cat was there, kneading me through the comforter. Purring. Soothing me with his presence. Who needed a man when I had my kitty?

I drifted to sleep and relived the accident. In slow motion.

This time, I saw the tree before it fell, a towering monolith, and someone standing by it, hooded and indistinct. Because of the frame-by-frame replay, I watched as an axe, its blade glinting, swung and hit the trunk. Thunk. Thunk. Followed by a hard shove, tilting the broken tree toward the road.

No accident.

I closed my eyes, this time before impact. Every single jolt to my body was amplified. The lack of speed somehow made it worse and more prolonged.

When I opened my eyes, the air bag covered my view, smothering me. I shoved at it, and I swear it expanded, as if it meant to crush me.

I needed out.

I pulled at the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Yank. Tug. It refused to open, which was when time chose to snap back.

“Why won’t you open?” I muttered as I frantically tried to escape. It must be locked. I stabbed at the buttons, trying to find the lock.

Click.

The locks disengaged.

Tug. It didn’t work.

I pressed again.

Click.

Still the door wouldn’t open, and the smell of gas proved dizzying. Since I couldn’t get out on my side, I shoved at the airbag and squeezed myself over to the passenger seat. After some maneuvering, I managed to