Death Do Us Part: A Gripping Domestic Crime Thriller by Phil M. Williams

Author:Phil M. Williams [Williams, Phil M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Thrills
Published: 2024-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-ONE

THE POST-ABUSE APOLOGY

After the revelation about Detective Decker, James wasn’t sure what to do. Decker’s high school crush on Rachel didn’t necessarily mean anything. On the other hand, James felt that it was at least a conflict of interest. He vowed to bring it up the next time he saw Decker.

Five days later, James still hadn’t heard from Detective Decker or Detective Banks. Instead, James listened to a victim of violent crime in the back room of the Lebanon Public Library.

“I’m such a klutz,” the middle-aged woman said, sitting among the circle of plastic chairs. “The first time it happened, I spilled my red wine on his shirt at a party. I laughed. I thought he’d laugh too because he knew I was a klutz, but he was really angry. He was really quiet when we left the party. In the car, I asked him what was wrong, and he slapped me. He never even answered me. Just slapped me across the face and drove me home. I cried the whole way there. The next day he was extremely apologetic. Sent me flowers. Begged me to forgive him. It was like the guy who hit me wasn’t even him, so I forgave him.”

The group focused on the middle-aged woman, nodding along with the parts that resonated with them. Almost all of them resonated with the post-abuse apology.

James wrung his hands in his lap, thinking of his stepfather, although he had never received an apology.

The middle-aged woman took a deep breath. “When we got married, I thought it would stop. I thought he would feel more secure, but it only got worse. He hit me more often. Harder. And eventually it didn’t matter what I did, he’d find a reason. I thought he was gonna kill me when I filed for divorce. If it hadn’t been for my dad and my brother, he might’ve. They came with me to the house to get my stuff. My ex was surprised they were there. It was like he thought he had isolated me enough that nobody would help me. It was the first time I ever saw him look intimidated.

“I was only thirty-one when I got divorced, but he had convinced me that I was nothing. So I spent the next two decades repeating the same pattern of dating abusive men until I finally got into therapy.” The middle-aged woman scanned the group. “And now … I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever find love. I’m not even looking anymore. I feel like it’s a win that I can go home and not worry about being punched in the face.” She shrugged. “I guess that’s all.”

The group applauded.

Anna, the moderator, said, “Thank you so much for sharing, Lois.” Anna surveyed the group, her gaze settling on James. “Anyone else want to share? James?”

“No, thank you,” James replied.

Some of the women gawked at James’s bruised cheek, black eye, and scabbed lip, no doubt wondering about his abusive relationship.

“Anyone else?” Anna paused for a few seconds, giving time for a response.

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