Page 51 of Mended Fences

Three months,two broken fingers, and one black eye later, I’d had just about enough. While the bruises on my ribs had faded to a sickly yellow, the memory of Chase’s gentle touch still lingered, and the fresh shiner was the last straw.

It was time to call in the big guns.

I pulled up Tessa’s contact and hit the button for FaceTime. There’d be no hiding the truth; she’d see it written all over my face in the form of a greenish-purple bruise that would fade soon enough.

The house was blissfully silent. I had a rare day off, and Peter was at work for a few more hours.

The unmistakable ringing of the FaceTime call echoed through the cavernous living room. It was designed to impress, not to comfort. Every surface gleamed—marble floors polished toan icy sheen, a glass coffee table more for display than use, and a massive floor-to-ceiling window that let in the kind of light decorators fawned over.

But it all felt cold.

Lifeless.

I held my breath as the call connected.

“Hey, lady! How ar— Oh, holy hell! What happened?” Tessa brought the phone closer to her pretty face, like she could pull me right through the screen to inspect my injuries. Behind her, construction workers milled about her cidery.

“Do you, uh, have a few minutes? I know you’re busy.”

“Of course, I have a few minutes, especially for you. Just—” She looked over her shoulder before returning her focus to her phone. “Let me find somewhere quieter. Hold on a sec.”

The world went a little topsy-turvy as her phone jostled. In a few moments, she was tucked into what looked to be a small office space.

“Okay, I’m good. Now, what the hell happened?”

I took a deep breath. “Peter happened.”

A thousand emotions flashed across my best friend’s face in the span of a heartbeat.

Shock.

Horror.

Rage.

Her features settled into a cold fury I’d never seen on my friend’s normally cheerful face.

“I’m going to kill him.” Her voice was ice. “I am actually going to murder your husband.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but that won’t be necessary.”

“It won’t benecessary? Uh, I think it’s entirely fucking n?—”

“Tessa.”

“Sorry, I’m listening. Promise.” She mimed zipping her lips.

I smiled, and pain in my face made me wince.

“Oh, babe.” Her eyes softened into something I hated to see.

“No, Tessa. Absolutely no pity. Lock it down right the hell now.”

“Okay, okay! Get on with it, then!”

“I’ve been documenting the abuse for the last year.”

“A year?!”