Deception (4 page)

“Mind if I run with you?” I ask.

She ignores me, but at least she doesn’t tell me to go away. That’s good enough for me. I keep moving along at the rhythm she sets in a comfortable silence.

We continue this pattern for the next week or so. No conversing, but it feels good to run with her. Often I’ll say something, but she’ll never reply. Sometimes I see her fighting a laugh at something funny I’ve said; which encourages me to keep meeting her. There’s something appealing about the carefree nature of it all.

On the second week, Roxi finally speaks. “You don’t give up, do you?” Her tone is anything but exasperated. She’s all smiles.

“Nope,” I smirk confidently. “It’s good to have someone to run with.”

She pauses before answering, “It is.” It’s so quiet, I barely hear her, but it’s out there, she likes running with me too.

I look over, grinning like a fool, especially when she glances at me briefly, then turns away shyly, still smiling as well.

“There’s a park around the corner from here that has some exercise equipment. I found it the other day. Do you wanna go check it out?” she asks.

Surprised she is finally talking to me, I slow down to a walk, wanting to make the most of it. I’d almost forgotten how sexy her voice was. Virtually like music. Even when asking a simple question. I’d almost forgotten, but not quite. I could never fully erase that sound from my mind.

Realising I stopped; she slows down and turns to look at me. Her cheeks go red, more than the light pink flush from running. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. You probably don’t want to hang out in some silly park.”

I breathe deeply a few times before answering, not wanting her to hear me puffed.

“No, that sounds great. I just wasn’t expecting the offer. I was beginning to worry you might think me a stalker actually. After all the following you and no talking,” I prattle on.

Since when did a chick make me stumble over my words?

“Race you?” I challenge, and take off before I make myself sound like an even bigger idiot than I already have.

“Cheater!” she calls after me. There’s no annoyance in her voice, it’s full of laughter; playful. I lead her towards the exercise equipment down by the lake. I know the area she’s talking about. I’ve been there before. I have to say, I’m impressed. She’s only a few meters behind me.

We go through some various exercises, only talking occasionally. It’s hard to keep count of how many knee tucks you’ve done while holding a conversation. The silence is comfortable though. We’re both in the zone, bonding over one common goal - pushing our bodies to the limits. I wonder if she’s striving for the same thing as me, to clear her mind of everything else. By how hard she trains, I figure she is.

Midway through my set of pull-ups, Roxi jumps up and grabs hold of the monkey bars too. At number three, she starts to struggle and I drop down to the ground to spot her. My hands hold her from behind at the hips, and partially help her lift to the top. She manages another seven before she lets go. My fingertips slide up her body as she drops; along the curve of her waist, and up the sides of her breasts. They have a mind of their own, moving back down again, tracing her outline.

My heart hammers in my chest as I try to remember this is a new friend, not a prospect. I drop my hands away but she stays in place, unmoving. Her back to my front. “Sorry,” I whisper through my now dry throat. I may have just blown the trust I’ve earned to hell.

“It’s okay. It’s actually kind of wonderful to know what it feels like to be wanted,” she whispers under her breath, but I hear her anyway. Her words don’t make sense. Is she saying her husband doesn’t want her?

“You’re going to have to explain to me, because I don’t understand something here Roxi. I have only talked to you once, when we first met, but I already know you’re funny, quick witted, a blast to be around and you’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t you know what it feels like to be wanted? Is your husband mental or something?” I wish I was looking her in the eyes, so she could see what I was saying was true, but she won’t turn around.

I have the strongest urge to comfort her. To pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. However, I resist. I shouldn’t have put my hands on her in the first place. I can look at a married woman, even talk to one. I shouldn’t have touched her though.

“Or something.” She doesn’t explain any further. Finally, she turns around, a smile plastered on her face, but I don’t miss the sadness in her eyes. “Race you around the lake before we part ways?”

She takes off without waiting for a reply, and there lies my answer from earlier. She definitely runs to banish whatever it is that plagues her mind, focusing on the pain in her legs, instead of the ache in her heart. I chase after her, knowing I can never run far enough to get away from what haunts me.

“They cannot take away our self-respect if we do not give it to them.”  - Mahatma Gandhi

Roxi

G
uilt over my flirtatious behaviour is eating away at me. I silently berate myself. Irritated, I run harder and faster than ever before, trying to escape what I’m feeling. No matter how hard I push, it won’t go away.

The wind whips in my face, trying to push me back. I force myself forward, fighting against it, fighting against the urge to go back and spend more time with
him
. To spend more time with a guy I’m attracted to, who isn’t my husband. A guy who seems to be easily, drawing out my secrets.

Why did I have to go and admit how undesirable I feel? I’m not sure why I get the impression I can trust him, that he could be a friend. Maybe it’s his straight up honesty that makes me feel as though there’s no room for hiding around him. There’s no pretending anymore that I don’t need anyone. Which is dangerous. I don’t want anyone finding out anything about me. If they knew, how pathetic my life is or what a terrible mother I feel like I am, they might think less of me. It’s just, I’m at a loss of how to fix any of it.

I’ve never felt so torn while running before. The anxious energy coursing through me refuses to burn away. I’ve never given much thought beyond finding the means to get away from Joseph. Luke makes me think about a completely new realm of possibilities and it scares the crap out of me. I’m not stupid, I know there’s plenty of guys out there who aren’t as cruel as my husband, but I shouldn’t be concentrating on other men right now. No matter how dreamy they seem, my only focus should be on independence.

“Roxi,” Luke calls out from behind me.

I’m sure he could catch up if he wanted to. However, I’m glad he’s giving me space, waiting to see if I’ll slow down for him. His concern makes me feel vulnerable and I pick up my speed, running away from the risk of exposing my true self further. I need to keep on my mask, at least until I find a safe way to change my life.

Eventually the sounds of his footsteps fade and I slow down, heading for home.

When I walk in the door, I see ten missed calls on my phone, all from Joseph. Reluctant to call him back, I move to the mat to stretch. I do a few classic yoga poses and start to meditate, my usual ritual after exercise. Visions of a tranquil rainforest fill my head. All is silent, except for the peaceful sounds of nature. Beauty is all around me. I breathe in the cool air that brushes lightly across my skin and I can almost taste how fresh it is. It’s as though I’m really there. As the oxygen travels through my body, my muscles start to unwind one by one, and I relax.

The shrill sound of my ringtone breaks through the serenity I’ve found and I groan as I get up to answer it.

“Hi, what’s wrong?” He only ever calls if he wants something.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for over thirty minutes now.”

A hello would have been nice, but no, he has to jump straight into giving me a hard time. “Sorry I was out for a run, I just got back.”

“Jeez, it’s a hard life isn’t it?”

I roll my eyes, if I’m not cleaning or working my ass off to serve him every second of the day, he likes to make me feel guilty about it.

“Did you want something?” My annoyance shows even though I try to hide it. I can’t help it, I’m peeved off. “I need to start the cleaning so I can get it done in time for school pick up.” Hopefully this information will appease him.

“Are you complaining? You’ve got it pretty easy Roxanne. I wish I got to sit around and do nothing all day. Just remember you stupid bitch, you’re living a life of luxury off my money. Quit the attitude and do what I say.”

The irritation I already felt, skyrockets to a completely new level. I wish I could get up every day, go to work and not have to worry about anyone but myself, not to mention coming home to a cooked meal and relaxing before bed. Instead, I get up, clean, budget, pay bills, run errands, grocery shop, cook; the list is endless. 

My hand shakes with resentment and I grip onto the phone so tightly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it broke. Not that I care at this point in time. “Please don’t speak to me like that.”

“Excuse me?” He thunders through the line, giving me a fright. I should have expected it though.

I close my eyes a moment and blow out a breath.

“Answer me,” he demands.

I can’t stand when he gets like this. When he thinks he can order me around just like one of the employees at the company he manages. The power trip he’s on, is completely out of hand.

“I was only asking...” I start to say.

“Forget it. I know what you said. Now you listen to me,” his voice has lowered, but I can still hear the rage in it.

I slide down to sit on the floor, feeling weak, defeated. My hand loosens around the phone. He’s impossible to reason with.

“You need to remember that I’m the head of the house.” He has the same mentality from the fifties, as his father, only he’s a lot harsher about it. “You’ll treat me with respect, or I’ll teach you a fucking lesson. Do you understand?”

Unable to answer, I just nod.

“You better be there when I get home and the house better be clean. I’ve invited people over for drinks and a barbeque this weekend and I won’t have them thinking we live in filth.”

I need to get out of here. Need to take Ricky away from this.

“Don’t even think about leaving,” he seethes, making me wonder if I voiced my thoughts out aloud. “Cause I’ll find you and make you regret it.”

Wrapping my free arm around my knees, I rock back and forth, attempting to subside the uncontrollable trembling that’s taking over.

“Are we clear?”

“Mmhmm,” is all I can manage. Although, the only thing I’m really clear on is that I need a plan to escape. Somewhere to go where he won’t find us, money to live off of, it’s all so overwhelming.

“Good.” He hangs up without saying goodbye and I don’t even care. I curl into a ball on the cold tiles, holding myself together. His threats ring in my ears.

What the hell can I do?

*****

A
fter being treated like that repeatedly, it takes a while to drag myself up off the floor, and to keep going on with everyday life. What other choice do I have? None of this crap is going to disappear. I need to maintain some semblance of normalcy for Ricky, until I figure out a way to get out of here.

I glance at the mountain of washing sitting in the laundry. It’s so daunting that I’m tempted to pretend it doesn’t exist and read a book all day instead. If I escape in a story, I won’t have to think about anything. The small luxury isn’t worth the hassle I will get tonight if I don’t clean, so I head upstairs, ignoring the washing pile and begin cleaning in the bedrooms.

The monotony of my days adds to my depression. It digs its claws in deep and drags me into the depths of hell. The smallest everyday tasks overwhelm me and I want to give up, but I can’t, not when I have a child relying on me. So I keep climbing back up, out of the horrifying scenes I find myself in, and continue to face the devil that roams here on earth; Joseph. There is no one on this planet that I hate more.

I change the sheets on the bed and pick up the clothes he’s carelessly left all over the floor. Angry at the extra work he creates for me, I shove them into the dirty clothes basket, only a couple of meters from where he dropped them. I’m disgusted to see that yet again, he’s picked his toenails and flicked them away, not concerned by where they land. I run the vacuum around the wooden floorboards and sigh. That’s one room down, three to go.

The spare room is clean, so I skip it and move on to my son’s. It’s not too bad either, just some toys need to be put back in the toy box. I avoid the office for as long as I can, not wanting to deal with what I know is probably waiting for me. Instead, I tackle the bathroom and the toilet. Urine is all over the floor and I scrunch up my nose,
yuck
. I know it wasn’t my son who made this particular mess. I only cleaned here yesterday, and ever since Ricky has used the downstairs toilet. Joseph’s supposed to be a grown ass man, the fact he pisses on the floor and doesn’t even clean up after himself, makes me sick.

When I can’t avoid it any longer, I hold my breath and open the office door. The rancid odour gets to me anyway. It’s bitter and acidic and completely gross. I have no idea why they make the smell of semen sound so appealing in all the steamy books I’ve read. Maybe it’s just him; maybe it’s all the evil inside turning everything sour. Gluggy white gloop is all over the desk and the floor. It’s starting to dry up and going to be a bitch to clean. I’m sure he does this to punish me for not being more affectionate with him, for not willingly giving him frequent sex.

“Fucking pig,” I mutter to myself. “Haven’t you heard of a tissue?” Surely all men can’t be this vile? He has no shame. It’s even in the coffee cup that sits by the keyboard. I throw it in the bin and repeatedly gag, as I clean it all up.

Finally finished, I shower and put my happy mask back on while I go to pick up my son. I can’t let anyone see that there’s something seriously wrong with this family.

My phone rings again in the car, and I groan, expecting it to be Joseph checking up on how the cleaning went. A quick glance shows me it’s Rachel. Relief floods through me as I hit answer and talk on speakerphone.