The Things I Survived
1292 Words
Roberta's POV
We stayed like that for a long time.
His hand holding mine. The fireplace crackled. The clock ticking on the wall.
Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved.
I don't know when it became awkward. Maybe when I realized my thumb was moving across his knuckles. Maybe when I felt his fingers tighten around mine.
We both looked down at our hands at the same time.
Then we both let go.
Fast. Like we had been caught doing something wrong.
He pulled his hand back and flexed his fingers. Opened and closed them like they had fallen asleep. Like he was trying to wake them up.
I held my own hand in my lap. It felt empty now and cold.
"Tell me," he said. His voice was rough. "Tell me everything. About your life. About your marriage. About what happened."
I looked at him.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because I need to understand." He leaned back on the couch. His eyes didn't leave my face. "Because I can't help you if I don't know what they did."
"I never asked for your help."
"I know." He paused. "But I'm offering it anyway."
I looked at the fireplace. The flames were low. Orange and blue and something that looked like gold.
"I grew up in an orphanage," I said. "I don't know who my parents are. I don't know if they're alive or dead. I don't know if they wanted me or if they threw me away."
Brett didn't say anything. He just listened.
"I met Millie there. She was my best friend. We did everything together. We protected each other. We promised we would get out of that place and make something of ourselves."
I let out a hollow laugh. The sound surprised me.
"Best friend." I shook my head. "I called her my best friend."
"What happened?"
"We both got scholarships to study architecture. It was our dream. Both of us. We graduated when we were nineteen."
"That's young."
"I was smart. So was she. Or I thought she was." I paused. "We went job hunting together. That's when I met Jace."
Brett's jaw tightened. But he didn't interrupt.
"He was charming at first. He said all the right things. He made me feel like I was special. Like I was the only woman in the world." I stopped. My throat felt tight. "His mother hated me. Irene. She said I had no prestige. No background. No family name. She said her son would never marry someone like me."
"What did Jace do?"
"He broke up with me." The words came out flat. "He said his mother was right. That we were moving too fast. That he needed time to think."
I looked at my hands.
And then I met you.
I didn't say it out loud. I couldn't.
"So we broke up," I continued. "And then we got back together. He said he made a mistake. He said he couldn't live without me. He said he would stand up to his mother."
I paused.
"I believed him."
Brett's voice was quiet. "Did he stand up to her?"
"For a while. We got married. I had Ziva." Her name came out soft. Broken. "She was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was kind. She was gentle. She used to draw pictures for everyone. Even people who were mean to her. She didn't know how to hate."
The tears came again. I didn't try to stop them.
Brett reached over. He didn't hold my hand this time. He just put his hand on my knee. Warm. Steady.
"Ziva was everything," I said. "And Jace treated her like nothing."
"How?"
I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
"He never played with her. Never held her. Never read her a story. She used to stand by the window waiting for him to come home. She used to leave drawings on his desk. He never looked at them. Not once."
Brett's hand tightened on my knee.
"One time," I said, "she asked me why her daddy didn't want her. She was four years old then. Four. And she already knew."
I took a shaky breath.
"And then he hit me."
The room went very quiet.
"He did what?"
"He hit me. Multiple times. Sometimes, with his hand. Sometimes, with his belt. One time, he hit me so hard I passed out. I woke up on the floor with blood in my mouth."
Brett stood up.
He didn't say anything. He just stood there. His hands were clenched at his sides. His jaw was tight. His chest was moving up and down like he was trying to control something inside him.
"He's a public figure," Brett said. His voice was low. Controlled. "He's on magazine covers. He gives interviews about philanthropy. About giving back. About being a family man."
"Yes."
"And he laid hands on you. On his own wife. Neglected his daughter."
"Yes."
Brett started pacing. Back and forth in front of the fireplace. His footsteps were heavy on the floor.
"I haven't even told you the half of it," I said.
He stopped. Looked at me.
"There's more?"
I nodded.
He sat back down. Closer this time. His knee almost touched mine.
"Tell me."
"He cheated on me. For years. I knew he was seeing someone. I could smell her perfume on his clothes. I could see the messages on his phone. But I never imagined it would be Millie. My best friend. The woman I grew up with. The woman I trusted with my life."
I paused.
"Everything fell apart when he told me about Nolan."
"Who's Nolan?"
"His son. The child he had with Millie. He was sick. He needed a bone marrow transplant. And Ziva was a match."
Brett's face went pale. "He wanted Ziva to donate?"
"He didn't want. He demanded. His mother said Ziva was nothing because she was a girl. She said a girl's only purpose was to serve the family. To give her bone marrow to the son."
Brett shook his head. "That's barbaric. A child is a child. Boy or girl. They don't stop being your child just because of what's between their legs."
"Irene didn't see it that way. Neither did Jace. They took Ziva for the surgery. They didn't let me come. They put her in a cab afterward. A cab. After major surgery. She could barely walk."
Brett's jaw was so tight I could see the muscles working.
"Days later," I said, "she got sick. She was throwing up. She felt pains all over her body. She was so weak that she couldn't lift her head. I rushed her to the hospital."
My voice cracked.
"They took her to the ICU. But then a VIP came in. Someone important. Someone with money. They moved Ziva to a general ward to make room. And then she—" I couldn't finish.
Brett's hand found mine again. I didn't pull away.
"I went home," I said. "I walked into our bedroom. And I found Jace in our bed. With Millie. Having s*x. While Ziva was lying in a morgue somewhere. Cold. Alone."
Brett made a sound. Low in his throat. Like he was in pain.
"The next thing I remember," I said, "I was waking up in the hospital. And you were there."
I turned to look at him.
"Do you see now?" I asked. "Do you see why they have to pay? Why I have to make sure they never know peace for one day? For one hour?"
He looked at me. His eyes were dark. Intense. But there was something else there. Something soft.
"Yes," he said. "I see it now.”
- Writer
