Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement was intended.
This story will eventually have a HEA, so please be patient as I get my characters into position. There will be extreme adult subject matter, drama, talk of abortion and angst; please be advised.
Thank you to carolinecullen2012 and piesmom for everything you did to make this story what it is today. I love you ladies with all my heart. Could not have done it without you!
Two years had passed since I had been brought home from my dream life, and I was standing with Ali in the back of a church on my wedding day crying. She was my matron of honor. I was rushing into this marriage and I knew it. I wanted away from Renee, and jumped into it. I had known him for years, but I still was in love with Edward. I cared about my husband to be; however, I would never love him like a wife should love their husband.
Since moving in with him eighteen months ago, my life has slowly started to turn to hell. I was working a couple nights a week at 'Twilight' which he made me stop. The reason, he couldn't trust me enough, and would come into the bar several times and started problems. It got to the point where Aro forbid him to even come in. He controlled everything about my life; I wasn't even allowed to go out with my friends. Hell, I was hardly even allowed to talk to them on the phone. I took it all in stride, figuring it was my punishment.
"I want him to walk in here right now and tell me not to get married, tell me he forgives me and he still loves me and that everything will be ok," I sobbed into Ali's arms.
"I know Bells, I am so sorry. I know you still love him, maybe one day you will find each other again," Ali said as she wiped the tears from my face.
It was time; I went through the motions, and put on my happy face. I am sure everyone thought I was crying out of happiness, but I was crying because I knew I was ruining my life. I looked over at Renee and she looked so happy.
When we got to the reception, I didn't even stand in the receiving line like we were supposed to. I headed straight to the bar and started drinking. I didn't thank anyone for coming and didn't even really talk to anyone. I stayed on the dance floor and drank all night with my girls. I figured I could drink my sorrows away. I was completely trashed by the end of the night.
We were staying at a hotel by the airport because our flight for our honeymoon was leaving early, the car was there to pick us up, and I didn't want to leave; however, I was forced. My friends Alec and Felix were so drunk I didn't want them driving all the way home, so I gave them the keys to our house to stay the night. Alec was my oldest friend and I was not going to let anything happen to him. I think Ali and I knew he was gay before he did. My new husband was not too happy about that either. He did not handle Alec well at all.
"Isabella, let's go now the car is waiting," he yelled and grabbed my arm dragging me out of the hall. Once in the car, he proceeded to yell and scream at me about not leaving when he said it was time to go and that I gave keys to Alec. The entire forty-five minute ride to the airport he yelled and I cried. What a way to start a marriage.
Our honeymoon was crazy. We went on a cruise I wanted to get off the boat and do things, see the islands and experience the spots. He didn't want to socialize with "assholes he didn't know" so we pretty much sat in the room, or I went to the casino or lay in the sun. The few times we did get off the ship, he bitched the entire time about how dirty the islands were, or how nasty and rude everyone else was. I didn't think there was a nice bone in his body.
Since the day I had come home from Edward's I had hated my life and it looked like it was not going to get any better, soon. Karma really is a bitch!
We hadn't been back from our honeymoon long when I found out I was pregnant, I was devastated. How was I going to have a baby with someone so mean? If I was sick, he would think it was funny. I was slowly slipping away.
Seven months later our daughter was born, he was there with me. No happiness shown from him, nothing. I cried for two days in the hospital, for mine and Edward's child that I never got to meet, for my daughter, and for this life I now had. The day we brought her home, I was changing her really quickly before feeding her. She was hungry and crying; meanwhile, he was not happy about all the noise. And, didn't hesitate to let me know spending the rest of the day telling me what a terrible mother I was already.
No decisions about my life were my own anymore, and he decided that I was going to be a stay at home mom now and not go back to work. I think it was just one more way for him to control me. He went back to work full time a week after our daughter was born. I lived by strict rules with him, if she woke him up in the middle of the night, he would wake up yelling and screaming. The thing about our daughter, she really was a wonderful baby. Didn't he realize that babies woke up in the middle of the night; he just didn't want to be inconvenienced.
I never wanted to have sex. I hated him. I didn't want him touching me at all. The more I told him no, the more he would accuse me of cheating on him, so I would just give in. I didn't want any more trouble or anything else to be yelled at over. I basically gave up on life and just went with the motions.
My life just got worse from there, and I couldn't take it anymore. With my mind made up I decided that I finally had enough and wanted to leave. I told Renee that I planned on leaving my husband, she cried once again telling me how I was ruining my life. I would live with my grandparents until I figured out what to do. But, fate had found another way to knock me down. I was pregnant again and completely crushed. I knew there was nothing for me to do; I was stuck and had no way out now. A few months later, our second daughter was born. I had two little girls not even a year apart and a mentally abusive husband that was no help at all.
He screamed if the girls cried, or yelled. I would have to jump out of bed in the middle of the night if one of them woke up, so they wouldn't wake him, otherwise he would go on a rampage. I just couldn't figure out how my life had gotten so bad. I would cry all the time; my husband would yell and tell me I was weak, along with a multitude of other names. I was falling apart at the seams and no one was there to help me. If dinner was not made the second he walked in the door, and the girls were not quiet and perfect then the shit hit the fan.
I put on my bravest face and went with it; no one knew what was going on behind closed doors. And, no one knew the turmoil that brewed inside of my mind. The family he came from would never believe me anyway. He was their baby, perfect.
We moved into a bigger house when I found out I was pregnant with my third child. I had my tubes tied after him. I was going to do it after our second daughter, but I held back I was still so young. Our son was born early but was ok; my husband hovered over everything I did and all he would repeat over and over.
"That's my only boy, don't hurt him."
The older the kids got the worse the abuse got, and not only towards me. Towards the kids too, the verbal abuse was out of control. I fought against him when he started calling the kids "stupid" or "idiot" when they didn't do what he deemed correct. They were kids; they were not doing anything wrong. He thought anything anyone did was stupid. He wanted to sit his ass in a chair and watch TV in peace and quiet. Not spend any time with his kids, no matter how much they begged. Eventually he started to take his anger out on me. It wasn't often that things got rough, but when it did he never hit my face. He knew I wouldn't be able to hide it. He was so much bigger and stronger than me a hit to the face would likely put me in the hospital; however, my arms and legs took the brunt.
I remember being at a cookout one time, and I tossed on a tank top not even thinking that someone notice the huge hand print around my upper arm. The woman who asked had been a friend of my husband's sister for as long as I can remember. Of course, I blew it off and told her I had fallen into something. I still think she knew but kept it a secret.
He didn't do it in private either; he would do it right in front of the kids. I remember the one time, I went and bought school clothes, I spent too much money for his liking. He decided to tell the kids that they didn't need new clothes and hit me over and over in both arms, in front of them while I was trying to cook dinner.
Every time I tried to leave, he would just drag me back. I was afraid of him. He had successfully killed every part of my fun loving spirit I had left inside. I didn't know how or I,f I was ever going to get that part of me back, so I sucked it up and took it.
When my grandfather was dying, I was supposed to go help take care of him one day; however, he wanted me home so I couldn't go. He told me it was not my problem to let other people deal with it. My grandfather died; I never got to say good-bye.
A couple months later, I was seeing no other way out of my miserable life. I mean, inside I felt like I wasn't good for my kids, and not good enough for him. I was a shell of the person that Edward had nurtured and loved. Now, I wanted out of my life. So, I decided to take a bunch of pills. In all honesty, I really didn't want to die and I wanted to get away. I was put in the hospital for a little over a week. After that, I had to see all kinds of doctors and therapists to "work my shit out". He would come and twist the words back to me.
I don't know how he did it, but it all ended up a tangled twisted mess. I was such a wreck. I didn't know which way was up and which way to go.
I did get to talk to my therapist about my past, about my life growing up with Renee, and even my life with Edward. It was hard to talk about; however, I told him that I didn't love my husband like I should and I would never stop loving Edward. It had been almost ten years, since I had talk to him and it still hurt like the day I left. They put me on a bunch of meds and turned me into a zombie of sorts, going through the motions.
I figured out if I took more of one of the medications that I could just sleep my pain away. If I was asleep I was not in pain. I would overtake my meds, and take any others I could get my hands on. The numbness they created was my safe haven. I quickly learned how to play down the effects of the medications in my system. No one knew what was going on believing the act I put on in front of them.
My grandma passed and that tore me apart, at least I was allowed to be with her, this time. I took all the Xanax and pain meds that was left from her. I shouldn't have taken them and for the longest time I got away with it. However, the overuse of the meds caught up with me, and I ended up back in the hospital. Every time I landed in the hospital I stuck the nail in my own coffin, but he used all my flaws against me. It was his hold over me and he made sure to tell me that no one would ever let a "crazy" person have custody of their kids.
After leaving the hospital, I fell right back into the previous patterns of living, just going through the motions. He had total control over everything I did now. My medicine, food, where I went, even who I talked to. It was horrible. I even tried to get involved with the kids schools, and he would flip. I had lost almost all contact with Ali now and had no one.
The one outlet I had was my tattoos; it was the only way I had to express myself. Before I had gotten married I had had a few but I added as the years went by and they all had meaning to me. My husband forced me to get his name in one, so I did as small as possible. As soon as I can that will be covered up. But, there was another reason behind the tattoos that I never realized. When the needle would hit my skin, it was like the blood was washing some of the pain I felt inside away. When I couldn't get another tattoo, I ended up cutting. The cutting relieved a bit of the ache, but it still wasn't enough to break me of it.
No one could ever understand the hurt, pain and sadness my heart endured. My life was controlled when I was younger by Renee, and now that I was married, he controlled everything about me. I was not allowed to be friends with any one of the people I had grown up with. I really was not allowed out of the house and even if I could get out, I couldn't spend money unless it was okayed by my husband.
Things were so bad for me mentally that they even decided that I qualified for disability. I never wanted to talk to Renee, but that was really the only way I got out of the house was with her. I guess he figured I could not get into trouble with her. I think he knew she wouldn't allow me to stray and find a way out. He complained about what she did buy the kids, but he bitched about everything even the stuff they needed. Every day of my life, I tried to figure out some way to leave him and my life there behind. And, everyday nothing seemed to work.
I went as far as spending countless nights awake wondering where Edward was, and what he was doing. Wondering if he ever thought about me? I always rubbed my fingers over the tattoo I got for our son that had gone to live with the angels that day so long ago. No one knew why I got it, or what it meant. Anyone that knew I was pregnant years ago thought I lost the baby. It was too private and personal for me. I hoped Edward would one day get to see it. One day maybe I would find the courage to find him, contact him, maybe we would find our happily ever after just like Ali had said many years ago.
Until then, I was stuck with him and my life in purgatory.