Take Me With You(78)

I grab my shoes and slide them on, peeking out before I make a run for it. I pause at the door, recalling the last time I ran. The fear and pain as he chased me through the woods. I screamed. I begged for mercy. That person seems so distant from the man I spent the recent months with. I fight that twinge of pity for him. I try not to replay the look in his eyes when he realized we had lost the baby, shiny with tears he didn't want to shed. He wanted that child. It was my lifeline, but it was his too.

I brush away the thought and take a deep breath before taking off. The adrenaline pumps my heart so fast I can hear it thudding in my ears. I've been good, and I have been rewarded. He hasn't had to punish me in so long. But this—running off while he's having a fit—I might not survive what he'd have in store for me.

Despite all the planning and counting steps, with the panic and in this black night, I am lost. But I keep running, hoping I'll see something, anything to help me regain my bearings. I push through branches, twigs, and cobwebs, fear numbing the pain, until I come across something I have only seen once before and only during the daylight hours.

It's so haunting at night, it stops me in my tracks. The abandoned obstacle course, or “playground,” as he told me. It's crawling with vines and overgrowth like jungle ruins. I remember the look on his face when I asked him about it. He was hiding something painful. This place feels hollow, void of happiness. Suddenly it becomes clear to me that if this was part of his childhood, then his was not a source of joy.

But as haunting as the tall, rotted structures are around me, this is a gift. I know where I am. It's still fresh in my mind from earlier today. I listen for sounds of him. Even though I know he can be deadly silent, I am reassured when I hear nothing. So I catch my breath and I make the final run for the lake. My refuge. My sanity. The place that I have convinced myself divides me from the rest of the world.

It takes longer than I expect to get there, but I waste no time trudging into the water, the skirt of my white dress dragging along the onyx glassy surface. Once I am waist-deep, I submerge myself and begin to swim into the black abyss. I know exactly how long it will take me to cross. I've studied it so much during our time out here. So just like the first time he let me swim out here, I go under, swimming until my lungs can't hold in another second, and rise.

Don't look back. He is my Sodom and Gomorrah. He is my sin. He is my darkest desire. The temptation is strong to mull over what I am leaving behind. A life where I am coveted. I am his world. He takes care of me. He pleasures me. I am his treasure. No one out there would ever take the risks he's taken to have me. He could have hit me tonight, but he didn't. He spared the rod. He's changing. I've changed him.

Keep swimming.

The further I go, the stronger his pull is. But this is my only chance. People like him never truly change. He is broken. But so am I. Maybe not like him, but our broken pieces fit together to make a mosaic of swims in the lake, late nights listening to music, the serene look on his face--both perfect and damaged--as I read to him, orgasms upon orgasms, that swirl of filth and arousal I feel when he takes charge of my body, silence that speaks louder than any words any one else has ever spoken to me. And the scars all over him. Different kinds. Some thick and long. Others short, like choppy brushstrokes on a painting. They cover part of him, like a painting of his story. A darkness he can't hide, no matter how hard he tries to silence himself. He was hurt. And I'd be hurting him again. I'd be sending him to jail. I help people. I take care of them. Even Johnny didn't need me as desperately as Sam does.

But I can't go back.

I know who he is. What he's done. What would that make me?

I come up for air and find myself at the center point of the lake. The spot I wished I could stay forever. Where I could keep the best parts of myself from both worlds. And I could keep the best parts of him.

I study the side of the lake I have yearned to reach since my first swim. I can't go back out to that world. I'm not her anymore. I just have her name, her skin, her eyes, her hair. But my soul? It's been completely altered. He's stained its purity with his darkness.

I turn towards the shore from which I came, part of me hoping he'll be there to force me back, but it's still and quiet. I look towards the other side that holds my freedom and I feel nothing. I stop treading water, and it feels so easy to let go. To let my body sink into the void. To watch the silver circle of the moon shrink as I descend into darkness. I don't feel so heavy anymore. I can just let everyone move on. I can stay here between both worlds forever.

As I go under the blackness engulfs me. This is freedom. No one can have me, but myself. I close my eyes, and take a breath. Instead of serenity, the water in my lungs shocks me. My eyes open wide and I jerk, awoken from this trance of helplessness. Down here, between two worlds, at its deepest point, it becomes clear. I don't want freedom if it means the life I had before all this. I can't imagine a life where Sam doesn't exist. This is the greatest test. The key to my new freedom. To show him I had the choice, and I chose him.

I push off the silty bottom and swim up as fast as I can before I lose consciousness. When I rise to the surface, I gasp and spit up water. The hollow sounds of my wheezing and gasping overpower the night sounds of the woods. I swim to shore, cough and vomit the water I inhaled, and collapse on the damp pebbles, rolling onto my back as I catch my breath.

He must be looking for me. I have to go to him before he comes to me. He needs to understand this is all my choice. I wobble up to my feet, fueled with the need to find Sam before he finds me. I run, this time having better bearings and a clarity of mind I didn't have when I was trying to find the lake. It takes me a quarter of the time to find my way back to the cabin. The door is still open. I glance in from a few feet away, still not able to bring myself to look directly at the event that upended everything. I could wait here. I could sit out front until he comes back. But I can't wait. I can't just sit here passively. This is a choice. From the very start, he's given me choices. Or the illusion of choices. But this time, it's all mine. I laid the options, and alone in the depths of the darkest waters, I made the decision to come back. I won't sit here and wait for him to come to me.