| Faye couldn’t believe it. No, she refused to believe it. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, but he did. Blinking rapidly to focus, Faye’s eyes wandered around the hospital room. She saw ‘get well’ balloons and flowers in every inch of the small private room. ‘From him,’ she bitterly thought. Finally, her eyes rested on the figure leaning over her bed, his eyes as red as hers, yet the tears that fell from his eyes made Faye sick. “I’m so sorry. It will never happen again. I'll get help,” He whispered in a hushed tone, unable to look into her eyes. Faye gave a bitter chuckle. ‘How many times have I heard that,’ she asked herself. Too many. Faye quickly turned her head away from him, hoping her understood her silent plea for his exit. He did. Walking from the room, he looked back only once. Pain in his eyes. Closing her eyes against the new, hot tears stinging her face, Faye thought back to last night. It seemed like so long ago. <Flashback> “Hey Faye, what’s today?” Chris called out his usual greeting to his girlfriend of five months, Faye Dunbar. Justin Timberlake, who was sitting in the corner, laughed at Chris’s odd sense of humor and returned to his phone conversation with his girlfriend. Faye looked up at Chris and gave a short wave, afraid to talk to him, yet more afraid to ignore him. Everyone saw the humorous Chris, the guy who was middle-aged but acted as though he was still a teenager. Everyone loved that Chris even Faye, yet she that wasn’t the real Chris. The real Chris made appearances at night when they were alone in their hotel room. He was an angry man. Angry at the world, at life, at himself, yet he took everything out on her. She had bruises covering her small body, where he had hurt her. Sometimes he'd be so angry, she couldnt' sit the next day or even the next week. He never touched her face, so nobody could see the damage he did. Maybe that should have been her first clue that his attacks weren't just random spurts of anger. He planned his abuse. Afterwards, Chris would always apologize. ‘I’m sorry,’ or ‘It won’t happen again,” he would always reply, and he'd make love to her to prove it. He was so gentle the rest of the night that she'd almost think that she'd made it all up. The painful bruises served as reminders. She knew what kind of person he could be, so she waited for that person to surface. He said he'd get help, and she believed him. Deep down she knew he was never going to change; she knew she'd always be his punching bag until she left him. Every night he hit her, kicked her, yelled insults and obscenities, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She refused to believe he would intentionally hurt her. ‘He was just angry,’ she’d lie to herself. Of course, she didn't believe her own lie, but it was better than seeing her boyfriend for what he really was. Faye saw Chris walking towards her, and her heart pounded in her chest. Would he ask her to accompany him to their hotel room? She knew what awaited her there. Johnny and Wade had been on his case today, and it would all come back to her. She didn't want to ever go upstairs. If he did ask, she couldn’t tell him ‘no’, and risk his temper rising. Would he do anything to her right here? Her cell phone gave a shrill whistle, drawing Faye back to the present. Quickly answering it, Faye stood up and heading in the opposite direction from Chris. But even that wasn’t going to be far enough. Not if what the person on the other line had just told her was true. She couldn’t be pregnant. She had the flu, that's why she threw up in the mornings. She was not pregnant. She just couldn’t be. As Faye hung up the phone, her mind thought of all the possible reactions Chris could have. Most likely, he would be furious. Faye’s mind blocked that out immediately. ‘Chris will be happy! He’ll say he loves me, and he’ll treat me good because I’m having his baby. He will,’ her mind worked hard to be convincible. “Faye, let’s go to the room,” Chris’s ordered. Faye slightly nodded as though she'd be asked and not commanded and followed Chris upstairs. Her mind and heart raced as they entered their hotel room. On instinct, Faye walked to the farthest corner of the room, leaving a huge gap between her and Chris. As usual, Chris started to close the gap between them, his eyes growing furious as he thought about all the crap he'd been through today. He prepared to vent his anger before Faye’s soft voice stopped him. “Chris, I’m pregnant.” Chris stood motionless. His gaze focused on the floor, but his hands formed fist. “It’s not mine! How dare you try to pass JC’s baby off as mine! Don’t even try to act innocent. You think I don't notice the way you look at him. In fact, it could be anyone's baby. I'm sure you've spread your favors all over this tour. Did you think I was too stupid to notice?,” Chris angrily yelled, his once chocolate eyes, a charcoal black. Faye quickly shook her head ‘no’. “You’re the only one, Chris. I would never cheat on you. We’re going to be parents. Aren't you happy? Please, calm down and think about this. Please,” Faye pleaded to no avail. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do! You slut,” Chris screamed as he flew towards her knocking her to the ground. His feet did his talking from that point on. Kicking her all over; not caring where he hit. Faye silently cried, trying desperately to protect her stomach. “Please, don’t hurt the baby,” she managed to whisper before blackness engulfed her. <End Flashback> He had hurt the baby. There was no baby anymore. Faye hazily remembered Joey’s panicked voice when he’d found her the next morning. She could barely remember the ambulance ride and short visits from Justin, JC, Joey and Lance. The only thing she could vividly remember was the doctor giving her the heartbreaking news. ‘I won’t do this anymore,’ Faye promised herself. She was done with the abuse, done with the pain, done with Chris. Her only regret was that she realized it to late. Too late to save their baby, but it wasn't too late for her. She had been too stupid to believe that Chris would really hurt her. She believed it now; she wouldn’t refuse to believe it anymore. He could, he would, and he did. |
| He Did |