31

Victoria

I hated Fridays. Fridays were when Michael and I had Couple Therapy. Our therapist was quite eager to get me to open up. At home, I slowly became more affectionate with Michael by softly smiling at him and returning hugs. However, I wasn't progressing fast enough for the therapist. I hated how pushy she was.

I needed to take things slowly to get Michael's trust. I knew that if I opened up and showed too much affection too quickly, Michael would be suspicious. I thought the therapist would want us to take things slow after everything Michael put me through.

On the bright side, our therapist was part of the underworld Michael worked in, so I could be candid with her without Michael going to jail. That is almost completely honest. She knew Michael hit me, raped me, drugged me, and had other men rape me, so she could help me work through the trauma while making Michael understand how his actions affected me.

I was sitting in the living room, reading a book. I didn't feel like going to therapy. I was tired from all the family activities Michael had us doing; we had been going out every day for the past four weeks. Also, I needed to plan how I would kill Michael.

"Why aren't you getting ready?" I heard Michael ask; I was still in my loungewear. "We're gonna have to leave soon."

"You can go without me. I don't feel like going," I said bluntly.

Michael let out a sigh.

"Victoria, we don't have time for this. Go get ready."

"I said I don't want to go. Our therapist is too pushy, and I'm not ready to open up."

Michael snatched the book I was reading away from me.

"Victoria, I am sick and tired of you not cooperating. I am trying my best and putting effort into making this work, but you don't seem to care."

I don't.

"Michael," I stood up. "Try to consider how I feel. Think about everything you've done to me. Do you honestly believe I'm willing to open up and throw myself into your arms right away? It's going to take time."

"I understand it's going to take time. Please put some effort in and take the first step. Maybe I should get a therapist for you; do you think that would help?"

I scoffed.

"Fuck therapy, and fuck you!"

Michael's eyes darkened, and his body tensed. I wasn't looking at Michael, who was trying to change. I was looking at Michael, who would abuse me again and again.

Michael began to undo his belt buckle. My eyes grew wide, and I began to run.

"Victoria!" Michael called out.

I ran up the stairs but was tackled before I could reach the top, causing me to groan in pain. I was definitely going to have some bruises. I felt Michael's arms wrap around my waist as he lifted me up.

"No!" I yelled.

I grabbed onto the railing, but Michael pulled me away without struggling. I kicked my legs and dug my nails into Michael's arms, but his grip on my waist only tightened.

"Victoria," Michael said firmly. "You're only making things worse for yourself!"

Michael sat down, laid me across his lap, and finished taking off his belt while holding me down with one hand. I felt my pants and underwear being yanked down.

"Count." was all Michael said before I felt a stinging pain on my butt.

I let out a small scream.

"Shut up," Michael said sternly. "Do you want to make things worse for yourself?"

I shook my head and let silent tears fall from my eyes.

"Then count," Michael said before I felt another stinging pain on my butt.

"Two," I choked out.

"Ah, ah... The first one doesn't count because you didn't do as I said. Start over.

There was another stinging pain on my butt.

"One."

Michael hit me again.

"Two."

Once more, the belt made contact with my butt.

"Three."

It wasn't until I counted fifty that Michael put his belt down. My butt was numb by then, and I nearly choked on the tears I refused to let fall.

"Now we're gonna be late! Go get dressed."

I stood up and practically ran to my room. My butt was in so much pain. I quickly changed into jeans and a blouse and brushed out my hair, trying to suppress the tears threatening to fall.

"So much for changing," I mumbled under my breath.

I looked over my appearance and headed downstairs, where Michael was waiting. He grabbed my wrist, dragged me to the car, and shoved me inside. I buckled my seatbelt as Michael drove off.

We were five minutes late for our appointment. Fortunately, we could walk right into the room, where our therapist, Dr. Boyer, waited for us.

"Our apologies for being late," Michael said.

"That's alright," Dr. Boyer said. "I have no appointments after you, so we can still do the whole hour."

Damn... I was hoping our session would be cut short.

"Today, I want to focus on Victoria instead of doing exercises."

"Me?" I asked in shock. I thought I could get away with the exercises as usual.

"There's clearly strain on this relationship, and I see your disinterest. We're going to take a different approach and determine what is keeping you from putting effort into improving your relationship with Michael."

That's easy. I am not interested in fixing things with Michael because I plan to kill him.

"Fine," I huffed.

"After Michael hits you, what usually happens?"

"At first, Michael would apologize and act lovingly, saying it would never happen again. Now, he acts as if nothing happened. He hits me and then goes about what he was doing, and I'm supposed to follow along."

"What do you mean 'now'? I thought Michael hadn't hit you in quite some time."

I could feel Michael tense up next to me. Usually, I would remain quiet, but I was tired of all the bullshit. They wanted me to be open and honest, so I was gonna give them what they asked for.

"Well, he didn't until today. I didn't want to come, so he hit me with his belt fifty-two times and made me count."

"Michael, I thought you were going to anger management classes," Dr. Boyer firmly said.

"I am."

"Well, you need to apply what you've learned. Victoria has been walking on eggshells, which is why you haven't hit her. Am I right?"

Michael let out a sigh, "yeah. Victoria hasn't done anything to annoy or piss me off lately."

"Victoria, what exactly are you worried about? Are you afraid Michael will be abusive if you let your guard down? Are you trying to protect yourself from being abused?"

I'm keeping my guard up because I don't want to fall in love and not be able to kill him.

"Yeah."

"Michael had been hitting you for some time before you decided to leave him. What was the final straw for you? When did you stop loving Michael?"

I pondered for a moment, and my face paled in shock when I realized the answer to her question. I was absolutely pathetic.

"Victoria? It's important to open up and be honest."

"Victoria," I felt Michael put his hand on my shoulder; I looked at him and saw genuine concern in his eyes.

I took a deep breath. I didn't want to admit the truth.

"I don't think I ever stopped loving Michael."

My heart sank, and I felt sick as I confessed the truth. My eyes began to fill with tears when I realized how pathetic and stupid I was for still having feelings for the man who had done me so much harm.

I grabbed tissues and continued to sob, "I am such an idiot. I have been terrified of Michael, hated him so much, and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, but I never stopped loving him. How can I love him when he has done so much to hurt me?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I wiped my tears and continued to cry. "Oh my God, something's not right with me. Something is seriously messed up with my head."

"Victoria, there is nothing wrong with you; still loving Michael doesn't make you an idiot. Many victims of domestic abuse still love their abusers because they try to remember the person they fell in love with or depended on. You wanted to focus on the good you saw in him, whether you realize it or not. You may have been reminiscing subconsciously."

I blew my nose and continued to ridicule my stupidity. This whole time, how did my love for Michael not die?