Читать книгу Merciful Law - Darby Sr. Rae - Страница 18

It was finally Sunday…my day off. Then again, after tomorrow every day would be my day off. That should have been a bit of a comfort after the week I’d had. It had been nothing short of an emotional roller coaster. I knew I owed Emmet an apology and an explanation…and even a thank you for going along with my lie the night before, but I was still a basket case. I just couldn’t do it then. I guess I was most afraid that once he knew my story he would tell his client; they would tell Lawrence; Lawrence would come and get me; and I would pay the price for leaving him. In less than seventeen seconds I went from relaxed to the pinnacle of panic knowing Lawrence would find me eventually.

It was almost time to leave for Mass…7:25. There was something about going to church…the sense of peace it offered…the unconditional acceptance I felt in the presence of the Lord. It amazed me that whenever I attended Mass I always received the message I was searching for…that day I was in great need. I didn’t enjoy the way I had been feeling lately. I had never been one to let fear control me…and it seemed that it didn’t just control me, it consumed me. I remembered my friend Janie telling me, “Fear is not of God.”

I went to Mass in search of a message that would quiet my fears. I left quietly…the rest of the house seemed to be asleep. The boys were still snuggled in bed with Emmet. Soon they would give him their present and spend easily another hour in bed watching Animal Planet or the Discovery Channel. I admired his dedication to his boys and I would miss the adoring way they always looked at their dad. He was their hero.

It was such a beautiful drive to church. Every piece of nature was in harmony as I cleared my mind of the week’s frustrations. All the windows in the car were down and the fresh air tossed my hair and skirt around like a cleansing windstorm. I was wearing one of my favorite outfits. I bought it on my last trip to South America. It made me feel soft and feminine…such a contrast to the corporate armor Lawrence insisted I wore day in and day out…armor to shield any sign of weakness and to hide my femininity as though it was something that made me less of a corporate warrior than him. I often looked back at the ten years we spent together and wondered how I allowed him to gain complete control of my life. When did I relinquish control? It was like boiling a frog, I guess. The water was barely warm in the beginning…and by the time it was boiling, it was too late.

I did thank God every day I had been able to escape. Although I snuck away like a coward while he was out of the country, it had been the only way to be truly sure I could recapture my freedom. I wondered what he did when he came home and found me gone with no explanation. It was strange sometimes when I thought how easy it had been to walk away once I saw clearly what my life had turned into…how I became just a puppet to him. It was sad I hadn’t realized it when my parents were alive. I had many regrets in life, but that was my biggest one by far.

Strangely, I often felt I was being watched or followed, but that was likely my paranoia. I was sure if Lawrence had found me already, he wouldn’t have wasted his time just following me. Still, it was hard to shake the uneasiness. Over the last few years he seemed to have become almost psychotic in his possessiveness. When I first found out what he was doing I thought maybe he was being protective, but it didn’t matter. I was becoming a prisoner.

Before I left him I assured myself he would never be able to find me even if he tried. I changed my name, left the world of law, moved one thousand plus miles away to a town neither of us had been to, and broke ties with my sisters—not that there was much left there anyway. There wouldn’t be anything to trace. Still, he would always be out there. After last night, the fear was even more real.

Serenity was what I sought…and serenity was what I found. During Mass I felt peace wash over me, emptying the anxiety and turmoil of the week and making room for the peacefulness I so desperately needed. I drove the long way home after church. For over an hour the drive allowed tranquility to permeate every corner of my mind. In such a calm state it was almost effortless to compose my apology and explanation for Emmet. I wanted to articulate the genuine sincerity I was offering and be mindful to offer understanding toward his actions. By the time I pulled in the driveway, I was ready. Emmet was on the side lawn with the boys. There was no reason to interrupt his family time with the boys, so I parked my car and took a walk on the beautiful grounds first, soon arriving at my favorite spot.

Toward the back of the property there were a group of trees with low branches by the pond. I wasn’t sure of the kind of trees they were but the bark was smooth. I grasped a branch with both hands. Any tension left over was released from my body as I swung back and forth like a child. My skirt and blouse moved softly to the wind, and the sunlight warmed my face as though it was coming straight from heaven. Closing my eyes it was so peaceful, it felt almost spiritual.

I realized I had been in a state of emotional numbness over the years… almost a robot. It was my way of coping with the lack of love I received from Lawrence. I didn’t know if I was lucky or unlucky to experience the fierce passion he could arouse in me when we were intimate. Maybe if that hadn’t existed I would have left him sooner. I knew I still loved him, but it was painful to be in love when I didn’t feel loved in return; so I locked my emotions away. That might have been why it was so difficult to manage them. I may simply have been out of practice or there was a tremendous store of emotions to manage. Sadly I wondered if I would learn in my new life what happiness really was.

My arms began to grow numb as the blood drained from them while I held on tightly to the branches above and to my existence. My thoughts were interrupted when I felt his quiet presence. My eyes remained closed while I enjoyed a final moment of peace waiting for Emmet to acknowledge he was there. Instead, he was completely silent as he moved closer…too close. I took a deep breath, getting ready to speak first. But his musky aroma surrounded me penetrating my thoughts to the point of distraction. Had he always smelled this good? One more deep breath before I spoke, but again he moved closer, breaking my concentration; we were both silent.

Was he composing his thoughts because he came to yell at me again? As irrational as that thought was, it caused me to lose all my bravery to deliver a genuine apology. Emmet reached up to the branch and put his hand on top of mine. He still did not speak. Neither did I. My heart started pounding and I could feel it clearly lodged in my throat. It was hard to breathe…or maybe I just forgot to breathe.

Gently he wrapped his free hand around my waist. I could feel him breathe in slowly and deeply. “I’m sorry,” he said, heartfelt and simple. He repeated himself… “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.” He stood silently long enough for me to feel his sincerity and for him to know I received it…and I would stay. He gave me a gentle squeeze; then I felt him walk away.

Although I contemplating his actions, I came up with nothing new…he was sorry and didn’t want me to leave. I still didn’t understand the intimacy of his apology.

I started to crawl into bed and was awed by the radiance of the full moon. What a beautiful night. My room had a small private balcony overlooking the rear garden. I stepped out to enjoy the tranquility of the evening and the fragrance of the garden. It was a delightful way to end the day.

Emmet was outside already with Romulus, although it was barely past nine. Both of them were statues in the darkness staring into the night. And there I stood…staring at him. His profile outlined perfectly by the moonlight.

Emmet’s look was difficult to describe. He wasn’t handsome in a traditional way; it was more of a rugged beauty…if beauty was the right word. His face looked as if someone had chiseled it from stone; a strong jaw line; high cheekbones; deep-set eyes. His broad shoulders and strong posture portrayed the confidence of a warrior. Looking at him outside under the moonlight, that’s exactly what he looked like; a warrior—a Spartan warrior. He stood motionless for almost an hour as I admired him undetected; or so I thought.