Page 23

Willow

After staying with Jack for five days, we were falling into a semi-comfortable routine. I couldn’t stop feeling like I owed Jack for his generosity and kindness - and was frustrated that I couldn’t repay him. He hadn’t asked for anything in return, which made it even more frustrating.

He’d ordered a new phone with a new number through the company. I couldn’t reject his offer but didn’t know how I’d pay for it. He insisted that the cost was covered by work, but I could take over the monthly cost at a later date.

The police had my new number and I’d spoken to someone from Victim Support.

They offered an independent advocate or access to support services, but I didn’t know what I wanted.

Everything felt so chaotic, and I needed to hit pause.

To be slotted into the category of ‘victim’ was a shock to the system.

I was just Willow Thornton who had been in a bad – a very bad – relationship, but now I wanted to heal, not dwell. That was easier said than done, though.

Jack soothed me when the figurative bus that was the past seven years hit me. He was so kind, I didn’t deserve it.

Thankfully, the bruising on my face was now a putrid yellow-green and was easier to cover up with some light make-up. The swelling lessened and I was starting to recognise myself again.

Feeling brighter and more energetic than I had in a long time, I pulled on black jeans and a blue jumper, toeing on my trusty Converses. I grabbed my leather jacket before heading downstairs.

I found Jack at the kitchen island with reading glasses on, concentrating on his work laptop. His hair was messy like he’d been tugging on the lengths in frustration. At the sound of my footsteps, he did a double take, his eyes wide.

“You look—” His mouth gaped open as he tried to find the words.

The longer he was speechless, the more uncomfortable I felt. I was transported back to Cain glaring at me, snarling about my choices until he’d prowl towards me, so I’d sprint upstairs to change into something he approved of.

“I’m sorry, I’ll change.” Turning quickly, I rushed out of the kitchen, towards the stairs until I was stopped with a hand to my upper arm. Jack turned me to face him, hands on my shoulders.

“No, Willow. I didn’t mean— I’m sorry.” His shoulders sagged as he stood.

“I was lost for words. I promise it was a good speechless, you look… lovely, amazing even. Like there’s a little spark coming back.

" He smiled fondly. "Where are you off to, anyway?” He stepped back and looked me up and down curiously.

“I thought I’d visit my Nana Jean. She’s in a care home in Whitley Bay. I haven’t had the chance to see her for a while. Now everything is clearing up—” I gestured to my face, which absolutely wasn’t clearing as quickly as I hoped. “If I don’t go now, I never will.”

“Do you want a lift? I should be able to get away after a few emails.” He pointed behind him to the generic area of his makeshift kitchen office.

“No, you work. I’ll take the metro. A bit of fresh air might do me good.” Jack smiled at my new-found confidence.

I took the short walk down a couple of terraced streets, before entering the metro station. After days inside, I relished the feeling of the frosty breeze against my skin.

Pulling out my purse and bank card, I approached the ticket machine, tapping my contactless card for payment and waiting.

Bright red, bold letters flashed up. Declined.

I frowned and tried again. Declined.

My breathing increased as I panicked, confused why a small four-pound transaction wasn’t going through.

I pushed my card into the slot, entering my PIN. Declined.

Rummaging through my purse trying to find the cash, someone behind me cleared their throat, startling me. I dropped my purse, pennies flying. Tears of embarrassment and frustration blurred my vision. I glanced up at a cluster of people with varying expressions from annoyance to concern.

Leaving everything on the floor, I ran, tears streaming down my cheeks. I stumbled across the road until I hid myself behind some bins in an alleyway, desperate for privacy.

Pulling my diary from my bag, I located my online banking log-in details and opened the banking app on my new phone. I willed for what I suspected to be the case not to be true. Hoping he hadn’t hurt me in another way.

I knew Cain had access to my bank account.

He’d initially suggested our salaries were paid into a joint account he’s set up.

I refused, but at one point had problems with accessing my account.

Something to do with the app not working on my phone, so Cain encouraged me to add him as a named user to my account.

Gradually, he set up direct debits or transferred money from my account to his, insisting it was to ensure my portion was covered.

I’d always been left with enough money for transport and basic needs.

I admonished past-me for giving him so much control, giving him the power to gradually take over every fraction of my life.

I tried to log in – two, three, four times – each time I was blocked. I tried calling the support line but was simply told it wasn’t my account.

He’d blocked me from my own bank account.

In the space of half an hour, I’d gone from feeling the lightest I had in weeks, years , to feeling like I’d gone another round with Cain.

At a loss, I called Jack. He picked up on the second ring.

“How’s your new-found freedom?” The light joke in his voice made me crack.

“ Jack —” I sobbed.

“Willow?!” His voice immediately became frantic and full of worry. “What’s happened? Where are you?”

I gasped, desperate to get air in and simply unable to.

“Willow,” his voice was clear through the phone. “I’m going to need you to calm your breathing down so I can come and find you.” He soothed me, repeating himself until my panic eased. Eventually, I provided my location and hung up.

I pulled my knees up to my chin, arms wrapped around. How much more was I capable of taking? Was this what rock bottom felt like?

Gradually, the cool air dried my tears, and my body felt like dead weight.

After everything, this was the final straw. Cain turned me into a victim of domestic, emotional, and financial abuse and I was done. I had nothing more to give.

The pressure of my pulse and breathing was the only thing I could focus on. Sitting still and wearing thin layers, I was getting colder, shivering involuntarily.

I was jolted from my thoughts by hands on my shoulders, picked up from the hard, frosty stone and rushed into the warmth of a car. The seat was heated, a pleasant change, warming me from the outside in.

I turned in a haze to find Jack in the driver’s seat, his face twisted with concern. “Hey.” His hand came to my cold cheek, warming me. “Please can you tell me what happened? I might be able to help.”

“Uh,” I started, at a loss for words, my jaw too cold to work. I swallowed the rock in my throat in an effort to bring myself back to life. “He blocked me. From my own bank account.” His face morphed from concern to thunderous.

“What?!” He strained to keep his voice under control.

“Years ago, I struggled to access my account, so he suggested adding him as a named person. I guess he’s removed me and taken full control. Why change the habit of a lifetime.”

Jack buzzed with anger, attempting to control himself .

“So we create a new bank account and transfer your earnings there. Eventually, the money in there will run out which is no consolation for the money you’ve saved and earned, but he won’t be able to take more,” he spoke as I stared into space.

“Yes, your personal bills will be stopped when the payments are declined, but you’ll be able to reset any finances quickly.

Were the bills in your name? Who am I kidding, of course they weren’t.

Controlling arsehole.” He stopped, realising I wasn’t taking any of his words in. “Willow?”

I licked my dry, swollen lips. “I don’t know how much more I can take, Jack.”

“I know, sweetheart, but we will get you through this. You’ll come out of this so much stronger than you ever thought capable.

” I nodded, trying to absorb his confidence.

“You have no idea how brilliant you are, and I can’t wait for you to realise it.

The moment you do, you’ll glow from the inside out. ”

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

“No more thanks. I want to be here. Now, what do you want to do? Home or do you want me to take you to your nan?”

I chewed on my lip. “Can we clean up and then go to see her?”

“Thank God, I left the house with no shoes and my feet are fucking freezing.”

I let out a laugh, feeling a little bit lighter.