Julia's Chocolates. Cathy Lamb
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Название: Julia's Chocolates
Автор: Cathy Lamb
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780758275097
isbn:
And then suddenly I was furious, too. I was so sick of him criticizing my clothes, my hair, everything, and here I had gone out to fix the problem, and he was cruel again. “Well, if you don’t want to see me in them, perhaps someone else will.” I didn’t know where the words came from, and, really, it was a preposterous thought.
Robert froze, his eyes darkening, and fear exploded in my stomach. He very quietly, very neatly folded each and every garment into the bag. Then he took the bag, shoved it into the fireplace and lit a match. I screamed at him to stop but he didn’t, the fire smoldering against the material. I yanked at him and he backhanded me. Backhanded me again when I tried to pull some clothes out. He had to light a second match to burn them all.
When the fire was roaring, he picked up a nearby phone and smashed it into my face.
I lost consciousness. When I came to, Robert was bending over me, the fury gone, replaced by a concerned, loving, desperately sorry man holding an ice pack over my eye.
“You shouldn’t have made me mad, Turtle. Shouldn’t have threatened to cheat on me.”
Shaking, I could barely keep from throwing up, my head throbbing. When I didn’t say anything, he grabbed my upper arms. “I know you come from a white-trash family, and I’m trying to save you from them, can’t you see? You don’t know how to be a proper wife yet, but you will. I’m being patient….” The lecture went on and on and on. He slept at my apartment that night and watched me carefully for days, taking time off work. When he did go back to work, he called every hour on the hour, then made sure that his horrible mother and her sisters monopolized every moment of my time with wedding plans.
His mother and her sisters didn’t ask about the bruise, and I didn’t discuss it. Those women were wrapped up tight in their secrets and were used to ignoring abuse.
Two nights before our wedding, he came by my apartment. He wasn’t happy with the greeting I gave him, nor was he happy when I complained that his mother had taken over the wedding, so that fist came out once again.
He didn’t call on our wedding day, left me alone, believing that I would never cut out on my wedding to a rich, eligible bachelor.
“I hear screaming, Julia,” Caroline said, her voice low, sad. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“He’s coming, Julia, he’s coming. Here. To Golden.”
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