The Last Mrs. Parrish(71)

Once they moved me to Meadow Lakes, he left me there for seven days before he finally came to see me. I had no idea what he’d told my mother or the staff about why I was gone. When he showed up in the common room, I wanted to kill him.

“How could you do this to me?” I hissed under my breath, not wanting to make a scene.

He sat next to me and took my hand in his, smiling at a woman across from me who didn’t bother to hide her curious stare as she observed us.

“Daphne, I’m only looking out for you and our child.” He made sure to speak loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“What do you want from me?”

He squeezed my hand hard. “I want you to come home, where you belong. But only when you’re ready.”

I bit my tongue to keep myself from screaming. Taking deep breaths until I could speak without my voice shaking, I said, “I’m ready.”

“Well, that’s for your therapist to decide.”

I stood. “Why don’t we take a walk on the grounds?”

Once we were outside and no one could hear us, I let my anger show. “Cut the crap, Jackson. You know I don’t belong here. I want my baby. What did you tell everyone?”

He looked straight ahead as we walked. “That you’re sick and will be home as soon as you’re better.”

“What about my mother?”

He stopped and turned to look at me. “I told her that you had been increasingly depressed about Julie and your dad, and had tried to kill yourself.”

“What?” I shouted.

“She wants you to stay as long as necessary—make sure you get better.”

“You’re hateful. Why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think?”

I started to cry. “I loved you. We were so happy. I don’t understand what happened. Why did you change? How can you expect me to stay with you when you threaten our child and are so horrible to me?”

He started to walk again, maddeningly calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t threaten anyone. And I treat you like a queen. You’re the envy of everyone you meet. If I have to keep you in line occasionally, well, that’s part of being married. I’m not whipped like your father was. This is how a strong man handles his wife. Get used to it.”

“Get used to what? Being abused? I’ll never get used to that.” My face was burning.

“Abused? I’ve never laid a hand on you.”

“There are other kinds of abuse,” I said. I searched his face for any sign of the man I had first believed him to be. Deciding to try a different tactic, I softened my voice. “Jackson?”

“Hmm?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m not happy, and I don’t think you are either.”

“Of course I’m not happy. My wife tried to steal my child out from under me with no warning.”

“Why do you want me to come home? You don’t love me.”

He stopped walking and looked at me, his mouth agape. “What? Are you serious? Daphne, I’ve spent the past two years teaching, coaching, grooming you to be a wife I can be proud of. We have a beautiful family. Everyone looks up to us. How can you ask me why I’d fight to keep my family?”

“You’ve mistreated me since Tallulah was born, and it gets worse every day.”

“Accuse me again, and you’ll stay here forever and never see her again.” He started walking again, fast this time.

I struggled to catch up, dropping the conciliatory tone. “You can’t do that!”

“Just watch me. The law’s on my side. And did I mention that I just donated ten million dollars for a new wing at this hospital? I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you stay for as long as I like.”

“You’re insane.”

He swung around, grabbed me, and pulled me close. With his mouth inches from mine, he spoke. “This is the last time we’re having this conversation. You are mine. You’ll always be mine, and you’ll listen to what I say from now on. If you are a good little wife and obey, everything will be fine.” He leaned closer, put his lips on mine, then bit down hard. I yelled and sprang back, but his hand on my head prevented my pulling away. “If you don’t, then trust me: you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you did, and your child will have a new mother.”

I knew he had me. It didn’t matter that he was the one who was crazy. He had the money and the influence, and he’d played his hand brilliantly.

How had this happened? I struggled to get a deep breath, to come up with something, anything, that would help me to believe there was a way out. Looking at my husband, this stranger who held my future in his hands, I could come up with nothing. Filled with despair, I whispered, “I’ll do whatever you say. Just get me out of here.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl. You’ll have to stay for a month or so. It wouldn’t look right if you came right out. Your therapist and I go back a long way. We’ve been friends since college. He had a little trouble a few years back.” He shrugged. “Anyhow, I helped him out, and he owes me. I’ll tell him to release you in thirty days. He’ll claim it was a hormonal imbalance or something easily fixed.”

Thirty-five days later, I was released. We had to go to family court to prove I was a fit mother. We met with his attorney, and I played along. He made me corroborate his lie that I was hearing voices telling me to hurt my baby. I had to agree to keep seeing Dr. Finn, Jackson’s friend, which was a total joke. He was always solicitous, asking how I was adapting to being home again, but we both knew the sessions were a charade. Now Jackson had something else to hold over my head, to make sure I never left again, and I knew Dr. Finn’s notes would say whatever Jackson wanted them to. When I was finally allowed to go home, the only thing I cared about was being back with Tallulah. I told myself that eventually I’d find a way to escape him. In the meantime, I did what any good mother would do: I sacrificed my happiness to protect my child.