He Loves Me Not: Lily’s Story, Book 1 (21 page)

I
rubbed
my neck as I finished nibbling on some crackers—my body was still sore from my fall the night before. Now, as I sat on the bed in my hotel room, I played through the confrontation I'd had with Trevor.

I knew I'd pushed his buttons—maybe I'd wanted to see how far he would go. His reaction hadn’t surprised me, though I wondered if that was his limit. I doubted it.

Yet I was pregnant with his child. Did he have a right to know? Would that change anything? I resolved to give him one last chance. I would go to the apartment and tell him about our child and give him the opportunity to make a choice—either change his behavior or lose me forever.

At seven o'clock, the time was right. The odds were high that he would be home from work, and as I left my hotel room, which I'd decided to keep for one more night, I trembled as I anticipated my conversation with him.

When I arrived at our apartment I wasn't surprised that his car wasn’t out front. On impulse, I parked out of sight around the corner and walked back to the apartment.

As I opened the door my nose and eyes were assaulted with the biggest show of destruction I had ever seen. The food I'd prepared the night before was smeared on the table and floor, stinking up the whole apartment. But worse than that, every dish which had been on the table had been smashed—thrown to the floor or against the wall.

My heart sank as I surveyed what Trevor had done. My mother's china, one of the few things of my mother’s that I owned, had been mostly destroyed. I looked toward the bedroom door and hesitated as I imagined what I might find there. Gathering my courage, I walked into the room I'd slept in so recently, and when I saw what Trevor had done, the blood drained from my face.

Every one of my belongings was on the floor, most of them torn and shredded. Something crunched under my foot and I looked down to see my jewelry mostly destroyed. I looked toward my nightstand and wasn't surprised when the wedding picture was not there.

Walking around the room, I looked for anything that could be salvaged. There wasn't much. I gathered all the undamaged pieces of jewelry from the floor and placed them in my pocket, then picked up a few pieces of clothing, finding some that were still intact. As I tossed the pieces of clothing on the bed, I heard the front door open and recognized Trevor’s voice.

Panic sliced through me as I imagined how he would react to seeing me there. My gaze darted around the room as I searched for a place to hide. When I dashed into the bathroom I heard an unfamiliar male voice comment on the mess in the kitchen and Trevor respond that I was a bad housekeeper. The other man laughed and Trevor said he'd be right back.

I climbed into the bathtub and silently slid the shower curtain closed, then curled up on the cold floor of the tub. As I listened to Trevor enter the bedroom I prayed he wouldn't notice the few pieces of clothing I'd placed on the bed.

When he entered the bathroom, I squeezed my eyes closed, terrified he would discover me. I breathed as quietly as I could as Trevor stood right next to the bathtub, using the toilet and then washing his hands.

As he dried his hands on the towel, a piece of jewelry slipped out of my pocket. The moment it hit the floor of the bathtub my eyes shot open, but I managed to stop its progress, silencing the barely audible tinkling sound. I held my breath and hoped Trevor hadn't heard the noise.

It sounded as if Trevor had stopped drying his hands and then paused, listening. My heart pounded and tears sprang to my eyes as abject terror drenched me.

Please, please don't let him find me.

A moment later he left the bathroom and I nearly wept with relief. I heard him and his friend talking—they seemed to be discussing something work-related—and I realized Trevor’s companion was his boss, Rob.

“We need to cool it for a while,” Rob said. “The cops are getting closer and I'm having some trouble moving the merchandise. Our contact is getting nervous and he's stopped buying from me.”

“That's fine with me,” Trevor said. “I could use some down time.” Then his voice became dark with anger. “Besides, I need some time to find my wife.”

I trembled as I listened to the rage in Trevor’s voice. In silence, I prayed the men would leave so I could make my escape.

Rob laughed at Trevor’s comment, then said, “I'd hate to be her when you show up.” I couldn't make out Trevor’s reply. Then Rob said, “Let's get out of this pigsty and go grab a beer.”

A moment later the front door closed and all was quiet. Frozen in place, I waited a full minute before standing and peeking out from behind the shower curtain. Gingerly, I stepped onto the bathroom floor and tiptoed to the door, peering into the bedroom. I silently checked the rest of the small apartment, then looked out the window to make sure Trevor’s car was not out front, then I raced into the bedroom, grabbed a small suitcase that was relatively undamaged, and shoved in anything I could. Heart pounding, I zipped the suitcase closed, hurried to the front door, and stopped, listening for any sign of Trevor’s presence.

All was still.

I opened the front door and slipped out, thankful for the darkness. As I ran to my car, I was even more grateful I'd impulsively parked around the corner. I could only imagine how the evening would have gone if Trevor had come home and found my car parked at the curb. He would have torn the house apart looking for me—if it was possible to tear it apart any more than it was.

On the drive back to my small hotel room despair flooded me. What a mess I'd made of my life. When I'd left my small hometown and headed to Reno I'd had such high hopes for my future—my whole life had been spread out before me, the possibilities endless.

Then I'd made a tremendous mistake and gotten involved with Trevor. I recognized that I'd been lonely and had been thrilled when Trevor had showered me with such intense interest. Something about him had attracted me and I'd ignored the warning signs, certain I could change anything about him that didn't fit my ideals.

As I entered my hotel room and locked the door behind me, I tried to focus on the good things and realized things could be much worse. I was getting out before I'd become trapped in an abusive marriage. It would be difficult raising a child on my own, but I was confident I could do it.

At least Trevor doesn't know about the baby. That will give me an advantage.

Then I thought about the inheritance my father had left me. I'd planned on using it to finance my education—now it would be critical to my survival. I could get a job until the baby was born, but I knew that would only be temporary.

What about this semester? Finals are in a couple of weeks. Is it possible to finish? Is Trevor really going to be searching for me? Will it be safe to go to class?

I’ll think it about it overnight before I decide.

I got ready for bed and quickly fell asleep with my hands resting on my abdomen.

W
hen I woke
the next morning I felt unbearably sick. Already I'd made several trips to the bathroom. Now, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I realized this pregnancy was going to complicate things more than I'd anticipated.

Drifting in and out of sleep, I nibbled on soda crackers when waking, then tried to keep them down, but found myself dashing for the bathroom more and more.

Over the next two days, as my energy continued to drain, my pride in my independence faded as I realized I needed help. Picking up my cell phone, I found the battery had died and I didn’t have my charger. Instead I reached for the phone next to my bedside, but in my weakened state, I struggled to remember Alyssa's phone number. Punching in the number that hovered in my brain, I listened as it rang.

“Hello?” a male voice answered.

Confused to hear my husband's voice answering Alyssa's phone, I whispered, “Trevor?”

“Lily? Is this Lily? Where are you?”

Quickly hanging up, I didn't understand what had happened. Then in a moment of stunning clarity I realized I'd dialed Trevor’s cell phone by mistake.

And he had Caller ID.

My foggy brain began to clear and I knew I would need to pack up and get out as quickly as I could. My weakened body wouldn't cooperate. Pushing myself to a sitting position, I slowly shook my head until the dizziness passed. Then I tested the strength of my legs, finally able to stand without collapsing.

Looking down at myself, I knew I wasn’t in any shape to step outside my hotel room, let alone rush out to my car. I wasn't even certain if I could drive without passing out. Forcing myself to move to the bathroom, I took a quick shower, hoping that would revive me, then found a clean set of clothes to put on.

Feeling better, I packed up my few belongings, took one last look in the mirror, then opened the door.

“Hello, Lily,” Trevor said.

The blood drained from my face and my heart stopped beating before it went into a gallop. “Trevor,” I choked out. Then I tried to close the door.

Blocking the door with his foot, he said, “Please don't do that. I'm here to help you.”

I stared at him, my eyes wide with fear.

“I've already settled up your bill and I'm here to take you home.”

“What if I don't want to go with you?”

“I know I made a mistake, Lily. I'm sorry, okay? I want you to come home with me where I can take care of you and our baby.”

Shocked he knew my secret, I gasped. “Our baby?”

His eyes softened. “Yes, our baby. I found your pregnancy test.” He stroked my cheek. “You look like you don't feel well. You're pale.”

I closed my eyes at his touch. I was so tired. If I had many more days like the ones I'd just experienced I knew I couldn't take care of myself for long. Who else could I turn to? Alyssa had roommates—she couldn't very well take me in.

“I'm your husband. I love you. Let me take care of you.”

Not knowing where else to turn, I allowed him to take my hand and lead me down the hall, then out to my car. We drove to our apartment in silence.

As Trevor opened the front door, he turned to me. “I'll make it up to you. I promise.”

The first thing I noticed was that the apartment had been completely cleaned up. If I hadn't seen the mess for myself I wouldn't have believed it had ever existed. I wondered if Trevor knew I'd seen it.

He escorted me to our bedroom. “I'll leave you alone so you can sleep.”

I smiled tentatively. “Thank you.”

A short time later I was curled up in my bed. Though I was uncertain if being here was a good idea, it felt good to be back in my own bed. I pictured the expression on Trevor’s face as he'd spoken of our baby.

Is it possible he's changed?

Glancing at the place where our wedding picture used to stand, I remembered the shape the house had been in only a few days before and the anger I'd heard in Trevor’s voice.

He’s like two people—one minute loving and caring, and the next minute angry over nothing and taking it out on me.

My father had had such an even temperament that this was a new experience for me and I wasn't sure what to do.

Maybe I should give him another chance
.

I drifted off to sleep before I could think it through, and when I woke an hour later I had to blink to clear my vision and force my mind to acknowledge what I saw.

It was our wedding picture, sitting in the same spot I'd kept it before. It was as if Trevor had gone out and bought a new frame and then printed off a new copy of the picture, then put it in our bedroom and assumed I would never notice the difference.

Fine. I'll play along. If Trevor wants to make an effort to be the person I know he can be, I'm not going to do anything to stop it.

When Trevor fixed me a bowl of chicken soup and placed it in front of me on the kitchen table, I was pleased.

“It's not homemade or anything,” he said. “But it's hot.”

I smiled as I lifted a spoonful to my mouth. “Thank you, Trevor. This is very thoughtful.” With him watching my every move, I felt self-conscious as I ate. “Don't you have to work?”

He shook his head. “Rob said I can take off as much time as I need.”

“Oh.” I ate the rest of my soup. “You can work while I'm at class, at least.”

He shook his head again. “Come on, Lily. You and I both know you're not going back to school. Your place is at home now.”

Alarmed at his pronouncement, my mouth fell open. “But the semester's almost over. It’s almost time for finals.”

He stood, a grave expression on his face. “You're not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want you here. At home. And that’s where I intend to keep you.”

I tried to control the shaking in my voice. “What about doctor's appointments?”

He smiled. “I'll take you to those, of course.”

My home has become a prison. He hasn't changed. He'll never change. I should never have agreed to come back with him.

Helplessness and despair battled for dominance as I watched Trevor clear my dishes from the table.

That night, after he’d fallen asleep, I tiptoed out of our room, planning to leave. But when I went to get my purse, it wasn’t in its usual place. I quietly searched the apartment but couldn’t find it anywhere. I slipped back into bed to consider my options, but a wave of nausea forced me to run into the bathroom.

After brushing my teeth, I climbed into bed, exhausted and in no condition to plan my escape.

Over the next few days I heard people come to the door. I thought I heard Alyssa's voice at the door once, but Trevor never let anyone in, and my cell phone was with my missing purse. I heard him tell people that I wasn't feeling well and wasn't up to company. By the end of the week no one stopped by. It was as if they’d given up. That's how I felt. I'd nearly given up, too.

One afternoon when I was straightening the kitchen, Trevor’s phone rang. He’d left his phone on the counter and I saw that the caller ID said it was
Rob's Auto Body
. Trevor glanced at me as he picked it up and answered the call.

After he greeted the caller, who I assumed was Rob, he went into the bedroom and closed the door. Curious what Trevor’s boss was calling about, I pressed my ear to the bedroom door. I could hear Trevor’s end of the conversation.

“When?” he asked. Then after a pause he said, “You know I can't leave Lily by herself.” A pause. “I don't know. But I don't want to take the chance.” A longer pause. “Fine. I'll figure something out.”

It sounded like they’d finished their call, so I hurried into the kitchen. As I thought about Trevor’s side of the conversation I wondered if Rob wanted him to come to work tonight, and if so, why at night? Why not during the day?

Isn't that when most shops like Rob's do their business?

Then I remembered the conversation I'd overheard that day I'd hidden in the bathtub. I tried to recall exactly what they'd said.

I'd been so frightened that it had been hard to concentrate on what they were saying. All I could remember was Rob talking about the police getting closer and having trouble with some merchandise.

Is Trevor doing something illegal?

I considered the implications.

If the police catch him, he could go to jail.

The thought saddened me, but I also recognized it as my possible ticket to freedom.

He'll never leave me unattended as long as he fears I'll run. I've got to convince him that I won't leave. How else can I discover what he's up to?

It had been two weeks since he'd brought me home from the hotel and I couldn't recall anything I'd done that would make him think I'd want to leave. Of course I'd felt pretty awful the whole time and hadn't done much more than sleep and try to eat.

I looked up as Trevor came out of the bedroom, putting a bright smile on my face.

He smiled back. “Are you feeling better?”

“Somewhat.” In truth I was tired all the time and became nauseated at the thought of most food.

“Good, because we're going somewhere.” He held out his hand. “Ready?”

“Where are we going?” I tried to steady my breathing as I reminded myself that I needed to convince him that he didn't need to fear I would run.

He smiled. “It's a surprise.”

Trying to show enthusiasm, I took his hand. “Great. I'm ready to get out of the house for a change.”