Deception (2 page)

“Are you awake, baby?” His voice is all sickly sweet now that he wants sex. Unlike him, I can’t come back from the mood he set so quickly. I shake him off not wanting to reply. I don’t want to talk. I just want him to leave me the hell alone.

“Don’t you want to do anything?”

What do you think moron?

The trail his hands take isn’t pleasant at all.

“Not tonight. I’m not feeling well.” 

He sighs deeply, letting me know his disappointment. As if I didn’t already know, that’s all I ever am to him. I wish I could leave, take Ricky and get the hell out of here, but I have no idea where to begin. I feel trapped.

Thoughts of the one time I attempted to flee flit through my mind. Joseph goaded that he would try and get custody of Ricky, just to spite me. His words are burned in my mind –
“I don’t even want that little shit. But if it means making you suffer, after how bad divorce would make me look to my friends and colleagues, it would be worth it.”
I have no doubt he would succeed, there’s no proof of his violence. It’s just my word against his.

He made sure I knew he has control of the money, and that there’s no way I could afford lawyers. He intimidated me into thinking I can’t support Ricky and myself without him. I know I can, but with him insisting he would make Ricky a pawn, and the minimum wage I would make with no qualifications, makes everything just seem so hopeless. For now, I’m stuck living in a world of misery. I hear him roll over to his side of the bed, as I stare into the darkness.

Sharp pains are shooting across my chest and I put it down to being from stress. Although part of me wonders if it’s all I feel of my heart slowly breaking to pieces. My mind is so shut off. Maybe these pains are my only sign of what is really going on. I ponder this thought until I fall into a few blissful hours of sleep, escaping from the real world.

T
he next morning, far too early for my liking, my alarm blares and wakes me up. I wish I could sleep forever; where everything is peaceful and nothing can cause me pain. My one blessing is that Joseph is already gone for work before I rise. I drag myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom.

Freezing cold water sprays over me and I jump back in shock, even though I should be used to this by now. The solar hot water system is acting up. It only works sometimes and today just isn’t my day. Unfortunately, I have no idea who to ring about it. I can’t see the name on the system, we don’t have a ladder that high to reach and find out. Oh well, it’s not like Joseph would allow me to spend the money on it anyway. He doesn’t care if we get to have warm showers or not.

After washing quickly, I wrap a towel around myself and stand in front of the mirror. The plain, pale face I see reflected back at me looks defeated. I slather on some moisturizer, but forego applying any makeup. What’s the point? It’s not like I have anyone I want to make an effort for.

I can’t help but scrutinize my reflection and torture myself further. Lifeless, muddy brown eyes are staring back at me. They are full of judgement and self-loathing. “I hate you,” I whisper to myself. For some peculiar reason it brings me comfort. Perhaps because it’s an opportunity to express how I really feel, even if no one gets the chance to hear it. I hate what I’ve allowed my life to become. I should have gotten out of here at the first signs of trouble, instead of thinking I could fix it.

Grabbing a band from the bench, I tie my brown hair into a ponytail and go back into my room to dress for the day. I put on my gym gear, planning to go for a run after school drop off. Running is my lifeline. The harder I assert myself, the more endorphins fill my body, leaving no room for sadness. For a short time, it allows me to feel euphoric; on top of the world, like I can achieve anything.

As always, I leave my wedding ring in the small bowl on the shelf in front of the mirror. I don’t need it continuously ridiculing me, reminding me of Joseph’s empty promises.

Hesitant to wake my son while he sleeps so soundly, I tiptoe into his room and watch him snooze for a moment before waking him. “Time to get ready for school, honey.” I lightly stroke my hand through his light blond hair to help bring him out of his slumber.

He groans loudly before becoming fully awake. “I don’t want to go to school. Please, no Mummy, I don’t want to,” his little voice cries out, pulling on my heartstrings. I’m tempted to let him stay home, however he’s already missed so many days. At the times my depression has threatened to pull me under, and I couldn’t even get out of bed, I let him stay home. He’s falling behind in class though, so for him, I really need to find the strength to get him to school every day.

I urge Ricky out of bed and go through the robotic motions of helping him dress and getting his breakfast ready. He doesn’t eat much. Usually he has a fitful sleep too, all signs he’s unhappy. I feel like a terrible mother. I try to do the best I can for him, to make him feel loved and cared for. Although I know Joseph’s the reason he’s unsettled, I have no choice but to deal with it, the best I know how. Joseph pushes him around and calls him a lot of nasty names, things no five year old should ever hear. He’s careful never to leave any marks though, so the teacher doesn’t report any abuse. We finish up breakfast and I load him into the car.

We arrive at school a few minutes after the bell, late as usual. I take a little time to talk to the teacher about Ricky falling behind. “I’m not sure what to do with him. When I try to force him to do his homework, he doesn’t take any information in, but if I don’t push he won’t do it at all. I’m concerned he’ll never catch up.”

The teacher kneels down to my son’s level and explains the importance of homework to him. “Are you afraid of making mistakes, sweetie? It’s okay if you don’t get it right the first time.”

Ricky nods his head and I assume they’ve talked about this before. A sudden pang of hatred towards my husband goes through me. If I didn’t have all his bullshit to deal with I would’ve been paying better attention, I would’ve picked up on this. Regardless of Joseph, I should have picked up on it. I’m his mum. These are the things I should know. I feel like a horrible mother for the second time today and it’s only 8:45 a.m.
Better, I vow to be better for Ricky. 

“Remember what we talked about?” the teacher goes on, “About the baby? You have to take baby steps. You have to learn to walk before you can run. If you practise, you’ll eventually be able to read.”

At the word ‘baby’, Ricky tucks his head into my side and hides. The teacher assumes this is because he’s upset he can’t read, but I know better. My mind flashes back to yesterday afternoon and the way Joseph was jeering at him....

“You’re such a fucking little baby. Get off of me. Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone? Fuck off!”

Before he snaps and starts to push him around, I jump off the couch and pull Ricky into my arms. “Joseph, all he wants is a little attention. You’ve been at work all week. Can’t you give him a cuddle for five minutes?” I rub soothing circles on my son’s back, trying to calm him down.

“I would if he wasn’t such a fucking baby.” He throws his hands up in the air as if it’s obvious and I should know better.

“I’m not a baby,” Ricky cries and throws himself to the floor.

“Yes you are. Look, you’re acting just like one. Baby, baby, baby.”

I pick Ricky up in my arms and hold him tight. “That’s enough Joseph. You’re supposed to be the adult here. Leave him alone.” My voice shakes, not only with anger, but with how hopeless I feel.

My blood boils and I want to scream at him, to leave him, but that would only make things worse. Without question, if I chastised him how I truly wanted to, his temper would really start to flare. If we were to flee, he would come after us, and I’m terrified of the consequences. I’m scared that by trying to make things better for Ricky, it would anger Joseph further and cause him to inflict even more damage.

As I start to walk away, he throws one more jab before letting me get to work on settling Ricky down, “Go cry to Mummy, you stupid little baby.”

It was no surprise it took me so long to get him to sleep last night. I come back to the present and kneel down next to my son. “It’s okay Ricky. If we practise every day, it won’t be long until you’re able to read. Mummy will help you.”

The teacher walks away to talk to another parent and Ricky clings to my leg; not wanting me to leave. Eventually the teacher comes back and pries him away.

“Mummy loves you. I’ll be back this afternoon.” I leave a little piece of my heart there with him. If I could, I’d probably be shedding a tear as I walk away, but after everything I’ve experienced over the past six years, they just never seem to come. It’s like they’ve all dried up.

*****

M
y feet pound along the pavement as I push myself as hard as I can go. With my lungs burning on my way up the hill, I try to regulate my breathing. I revel in the pain in my calves. It makes me unable to concentrate on anything else. All of life’s other problems are forced to the back of my mind. Then, when I go back down the other side of the slope, it feels like I’m flying.

For once, I’m able to appreciate everything around me. I can smell the sunshine in the air, and feel its warmth on my back. It sparkles across the lake as I pass, making it easy to enjoy this beautiful spring day. Bursts of colour in a gorgeous purple, tinged with pink, bloom on the Jacaranda trees lining the streets. It quickly becomes my new favourite colour.

Another jogger is heading my way, and as I get closer, I realize it’s a guy, a drop dead gorgeous guy. I avert my eyes as best as I can, so it doesn’t appear as though I’m checking him out. As soon as he passes though, I can’t help but turn my head and appreciate the view. I only glance for a split second, but in that time, he turns his head and looks at me too.  Embarrassed at being caught, I whip back around and realize too late that a huge electrical pole is in my path. I run right into it before I can stop myself and fall flat on my ass.

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough on its own, only moments later a shadow falls over the top of me and a smooth deep voice asks, “Are you okay?”

I’m completely humiliated. Heat fills my face and my pulse races. I dust myself off, trying not to let the pain of almost knocking myself out show. My head feels like I’ve been hit by a shovel. I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze as I answer, “I’m fine.”

Please go away so I can die of shame in peace.

He crouches down to my level, studying me, no doubt to see if I’m telling the truth. He’s so close, I feel the warmth radiating from his body and I flush at his nearness. At least if my face is bright red, I can blame it on the running.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I was checking you out too.” Not even a hint of amusement laces his words. It’s all concern. I’m a little shocked at how straight forward he is.

Swallowing down the lump of nerves lodged in my throat, I stare up at him. The small glimpse that I had before is nothing compared to what he looks like up close. A five o’clock shadow frames a masculine square jawline and waves of dark hair sit on top of his head. It’s easy to get lost in his grey eyes, the little specks of blue in them hypnotise me and I can’t look away.

As I try to get up, I’m still a little unsteady on my feet. My balance tilts and I fall back down, earning more concern of the person who is making me all off kilter in the first place.

“You seem a bit dazed. Can I walk you home; make sure you get there alright?” He wraps his hand around mine with just the right amount of pressure, as he helps me up. Holding onto him makes me feel centred, in more ways than one, and it throws me. I don’t even know him. I put it down to the fact; I’m not used to many people caring about my wellbeing. 

“I’ll be okay, but thanks for the offer.” Feeling slightly pathetic that I’m still clinging onto him, I pull my hand away and tuck a piece of hair that’s come loose behind my ear. “I better keep going.”

“Wait,” he grasps my arm lightly and I look down at where he makes contact, as though I can see the tingles it causes across my skin. “Will I see you jogging here again tomorrow?”

I nod, completely tongue tied at the way a simple touch is making me feel. I should tell him that I’m married, but the words never come.

“Maybe we can slow down next time we pass each other, give ourselves more time to check one another out?” He winks at me and I gape at him, speechless.

He places his index finger under my chin and picks my jaw up off the ground, chuckling. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts and become coherent. “Maybe,” I answer, but it’s more wishful thinking. I should really avoid making friends with this handsome stranger, my husband definitely wouldn’t approve.

I smile self-consciously before turning around and continuing on my way. As I start to run in the opposite direction, I daydream about his toned muscles and the way they moved as he ran. I tell myself, it’s okay to look as long as I don’t touch. I wonder what it would be like to get to spend time with a guy like that; instead of the asshole I’m stuck with. I guess I’ll never know.

“You can swim all day in the Sea of Knowledge and still come out completely dry. Most people do.”  - Norman Juster

Luke

W
ait a minute. Hold up. Am I really letting her brush me off that easily? Why am I running in the opposite direction of a hot chick?
With renewed determination, I turn back around and chase after her. It doesn't take me long to catch up and I jog alongside her.

“So, do you run around here often?” I ask.

A shy smile spreads over her lips before she answers. “I used to run through the tracks in the bushland, over the other side of the suburb. I wanted a variation in scenery and changed it up recently.”

Lucky me. “
And do you like the change in scenery?” I smirk, hoping she understands the double meaning behind my words.

She slows her pace to a walk, and I’m more than happy to abandon jogging for a chance to talk to her for longer.