Editor’s Note: The following article is an excerpt from my manuscript detailing my own abuse. Please see “My Story of Abuse” under the category link.
Sitting in the bathroom staring at this beautiful blonde that had to be ten years younger than me, and certainly was very thin, I began to shake violently. I felt cold and couldn’t quit shaking. I didn’t drink but decided I would have a wine cooler that Broch brought home from work and perhaps it would calm me down. I went to our bedroom and picked up a big quilt; got my wine cooler and sat in the family room waiting for Broch to get off the phone with the picture in hand. A million thoughts were racing through my mind.
He finally came into the family room with a smile on his face until he saw me. I said, “sit down.” “Who is the good-looking blonde in your wallet?” He refused to answer me until I threatened I’d follow him everywhere until I found out. He finally confessed it was someone that worked for him, and they just happened to fall in love! He got up out of his chair. I said, “what are you doing?” He said, “I’m leaving–you don’t want me to stay do you?” I said, “yes, I do.” Tell me what this is about, I don’t want a divorce. He told me again that this was not some physical thing because he had never had sex with her. (He was lying of course). But, he was in love with her. I asked him, “what do you plan on doing?” He wouldn’t give me a straight answer. He finally told me he needed some time to think about it and decide what he was going to do.
After three weeks of waiting, Broch still didn’t know what or who he wanted. I suddenly became quite angry, and the next morning as he was getting ready to leave for work, I said, “when you come through this door tonight; you will have an answer for me. You’ve been with me for twelve years and you know what you have.” What a horrid day it was waiting for him to come home and tell me what my future was going to be. I was still very angry and knew I’d light into him if he told me he wanted a divorce.
He finally came home looking like his best friend died, and said, “Well, I’m staying with you.” It was the words I wanted to hear minus the emotion that should have been there. I didn’t feel like I won anything.
The depression continued and I thought we needed something big to turn this thing around. The Outer Banks in North Carolina was one of our favorite spots. We’d been there 4 or 5 times in the past. It was so beautiful there and it would be like a second honeymoon; except Broch wanted to take Joshua with us. He had just gone through another surgery and needed a break as well. My teenaged niece also went with us to help with Joshua while we’d go to dinner, or spend time alone.
The day finally arrived, and by the time everything was loaded in the car for our week long stay in a beach front property–we headed off. When we finally arrived, I had a throbbing earache and Broch decided to take me to a little clinic they had on the island and have it treated. While we waited for the doctor to come in, Broch was reading a brochure about rip tides. A rip tide was when the water had two or more currents running in different directions and was very difficult to swim out of it. Broch said, “when we get back, I’m going over this with the kids.”
(To Be Cont.)