Love Beyond The Rite

Chapter 2

I turned my gaze out the window, where the slightly icy trees stood like skeletal sentinels. Upstate New York could be brutal in the winter, and I didn't miss the cold one bit. The memory of it only made me shiver. Paul tapped the steering wheel, oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind.

Without even thinking I start playing with my hair and say “I was actually thinking about getting my belly button pierced… what do you think? would it be hot?”

I watched Paul catch his breath, his eyes darting back to mine. "What? Really? I didn't think piercings were your thing. I mean, yeah, it would be sexy, but that's up to you," he said, his words tumbling out a little too quickly.

I’m covered in tattoos, you’d think I’d have more than my nose pierced but he’s right it really isn’t my thing. “Yeah, it’s just a thought,” I mumbled, brushing it off.

I decided to bait him, curious if he'd caught on to my suspicions. "What do you think about me changing my hair color? If I do get this money, I was thinking maybe I'd get a blonde balayage," I said, watching his reaction closely.

Paul's expression faltered, and he hesitated before responding. "Wha... why? I like your hair the way it is. Why are you wanting to change it?" His tone was laced with unease.

"Paul, why didn't you want to touch me this weekend? Usually, you get off in minutes, and now you can't even stay hard," I said, my voice laced with hurt and confusion.

Paul rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable. "I'm just tired," he said, avoiding eye contact.

I felt a pang of frustration. s*x with Paul was always vanilla, predictable, and lackluster. So, why was Ashley so turned on by him? What was he doing with her that he couldn't do with me? The thought sent a wave of insecurity washing over me.

Paul slowed down, and I gazed out the window, my eyes scanning the rolling hills and verdant fields. An Amish buggy came into view, its wooden wheels creaking as it made its way down the winding road. A wave of nostalgia washed over me. I missed the simplicity and charm of Amish life.

Growing up in an Amish town, our house stood between two Amish families. My childhood best friend, Elijah, lived just next door. We spent countless hours exploring the woods, fishing in the creek, and helping with the harvest. But after an incident in my senior year, we were forbidden from seeing each other anymore.

I wondered if Elijah was married now, if he had found happiness in the quiet rhythms of Amish life. Had he forgotten about me, or did he still think of our carefree days? The thought of Elijah brought a mix of emotions: longing, regret, and curiosity.

And, unlike me, Elijah probably wasn't dealing with a cheater.

As we passed the buggy, I gazed back to see if I recognized the occupants. A man and woman, bundled up against the cold, sat with two young children. I always felt a pang of sympathy for Amish families during the harsh winter months.

I gave a little wave, and the woman smiled at me. It wasn't until then that I recognized her - Elijah's cousin, Alice. I didn't think she recognized me, though. Last time I saw her, she was 17 and about to embark on her rumspringa. Rumors had circulated that she'd gotten into trouble, and her parents weren't pleased.

But now, Alice seemed happy, surrounded by her little family. Her children were adorable, and her husband looked kind. A pang of jealousy struck me. Why couldn't my life be as simple, as peaceful?

I stared at my reflection, still trying to wrap my head around how much I'd changed since Alice last saw me. In high school, I was always self-conscious about my weight since I was a little chubby, and Paul's constant comments about how he liked thinner girls only made it worse. I became obsessed with losing weight, pushing myself to the limit at the gym and starving myself to stay thin. Even now, I still eat like a bird, convinced that if I gain weight Paul will leave me. Looks like he already is.

I’m grateful Paul drove around them slowly. I had witnessed too many times an impatient driver almost run them off the road.

A text ping interrupted my thoughts as the name Brandon appeared on the car screen again.

Paul shifted in his seat and I saw him swallow hard.

I’m not usually confrontational but I’m honestly ready to rip the bandaid off. He’s done enough damage to my mental and emotional state over the years. Him cheating and thinking my inheritance is his when he can’t even ask me to marry him, is the icing on top of this cake.

I remembered the times he'd lost control, his face reddening with anger, his hands tightening into fists. I couldn't let myself be a victim anymore. The memories sent a shiver down my spine. I knew that when Paul got angry, he could become aggressive, his words cutting deep, his actions unpredictable.

He said he’d never hit me again. Waiting for him to change was like holding my breath underwater.

My heart racing, I realized I needed to tread carefully. Accepting the truth about Paul's temper was hard, but I knew it was crucial to my safety. The thought sent a wave of fear through me, but I steeled myself, determined to confront the truth and take control.

He hadn’t opened the message yet and honestly probably wasn’t going to.

I wondered aloud, "I wonder what Brandon wants..." as I reached down to read the message.

Paul's hand clamped down on mine, stopping me. "What do you think you're doing?"

I hesitated, feeling a surge of unease. "I'm just curious, he's been blowing up your phone all weekend. Is everything okay?"

Paul's grip tightened. "What... yeah, everything's fine." His tone was laced with defensiveness.

I decided to use my other hand to hit "read" since Paul was still holding mine out of the way. He wasn't expecting it, and the message read aloud: "I need your lips on mine."

"Paul, pull over!" I demanded.

Instead, he sped up.

"Who's Ashley?" I warned, my voice firm. "Do not lie to me."

Paul's eyes widened in panic, and he slammed on the brakes. He looked at me, confusion etched on his face. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice laced with innocence.

“ who. The. f**k. Is. Ashley. “

He swore under his breath, his eyes fixed on the window as if searching for an escape. "Get out of the car, Ember!" he roared, his voice echoing through the vehicle.

My adrenaline surged, making my hands shake. My face felt hot with anger and betrayal. "You're kicking me out of the car because you can't admit it?" I spat, my voice trembling with rage.

Paul's face reddened, and he pointed his finger towards the door. "Get out!" he bellowed, his eyes blazing with anger.

I look down at my outfit. It is 25° out and I’m wearing leggings, a t shirt and a jean jacket. This man is crazy.

“You’re really going to make me walk to my mom’s in the freezing cold?”

He gets out of the car and opens the back seat door. “Are you seriously not going to talk to me about this? how long have you been cheating on me!?” I yell.

He grabs my suitcase and throws it to the side of the road into the snow.

He opens my door and grabs me aggressively by the arm. His fingernails digging into my arm.

“OW! You’re hurting me! let me go!” I yelled.

Paul pulled pack and hit me hard across the face. So hard I started to see stars.

“We're done here. I never should have wasted so much time on a nobody," he sneered, throwing me into the snowbank. I landed hard, my clothes soaked and cold.

He stomped back to his car, locking the doors before speeding off in a cloud of snow back the way we came.

I stood up, brushing off the snow, and checked my phone for service. One bar flickered on the screen. I hadn't been home in ages; who could I call to come get me? I could feel the sting on my cheek from his hit intensify in the cold.