Page 11 of Saving Grace

I was relieved he wasn’t there even though I wanted to talk to him. I needed time to unpack the day without him bitching and moaning about his problems. I shook my head. Why was I even concerning myself with him and his problems anymore?

I should have just packed my shit and left.

I should have left long ago. When the thrill was gone and I no longer felt secure in my marriage. I could barely recognize the man I sometimes slept next to. In the beginning he had been sweet and caring, giving.

Now he was disrespectful more than not, verbally abusive, and I had a feeling he was cheating on me, but I didn’t even have the energy to care—to be honest. I only stayed because of my boutique and the somewhat normal life I had with him, that’s all I’d been wishing for so long.

Contemplating my next move, I sat in the car just staring at the too big house that I never thought we needed, but Marcus had insisted on getting.

Owning a mini mansion made no sense for just two people. He didn’t want kids, but thought we needed twelve rooms. For what? Simply to feed his fucking ego I suppose.

Marcus was always trying to impress people with material things, insisting that we had to have the best of everything.

So superficial.

He always wanted me more than presentable. Which to him meant wearing expensive jeans, dresses, shoes, and long weaves down my back. I hated all of it. We had one of the biggest arguments over me wearing my natural hair instead of some Brazilian woman’s. And Lord forbid if I left the house in sweatpants and a t-shirt or a ponytail. He would lose his fucking mind.

Getting out of the car I walked towards the house. A sense of dread thick as smoke pulsed through my body, making me feel heavy. Somehow I knew my life was about to change and I would have no part in which direction it went. I felt powerless. I was powerless

When I pushed open the front door and put in the security code, I called out to Marcus. His car not being there meant nothing. Sometimes his friends would drop his drunk ass at the house and he’d have to go back and pick up his car once he sobered up.

I exhaled with a sigh of relief when he didn’t answer.

Walking into the living room I sat down in my favorite chair. Something was egging me on to just leave but I knew I couldn’t—not when Marcus needed me, not while he was in trouble. What kind of person would that make me? Not the type I was raised to be. I would stick by him and honor our vows until everything with Atticus was worked out, then I was gone.

First, I needed to find out exactly what I was up against. Since neither Atticus or Marcus would tell me outright, I knew I needed to find out for myself and I knew exactly where to start.

The door to his office was locked.. Marcus had forbidden me from going into his office that occupied the entire basement of our home. I had respected his wishes before, I wouldn’t any longer. By coincidence I’d found the keys to the door tucked away in the back of his closet in a shoe box a few months ago.

I took off my heels, hiked up my long dress and headed towards the stairs. I took them up, two at a time hoping Marcus hadn’t changed his hiding spot. I almost yelled out in happiness when I found them right where I’d left them. I didn’t know when he’d be back so I didn’t waste any time, I turned and ran back downstairs.

I hurriedly walked through the living room and to the door that would lead me downstairs. There were three keys, but I got lucky and I unlocked the door on the first try.

As I opened the door, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I knew I’d have hell to pay if he came in and caught me rifling through his things, which caused me to hesitate for a moment. I didn’t need him flipping out on me. He’d never been violent, but he was under a lot of stress. Anything was possible. I didn’t want to end up in prison for the rest of my life, but I would if he laid a hand on me. I’d kill him dead.

I only hesitated for a moment because my need to know what he’d gotten me into was greater than the fear of him finding me in his precious fucking office. I opened the door, found the light switch. I flipped it on. I was surprised by how bare the space was. There was a simple couch, a desk and a chair sitting behind it and about thirty to forty file cabinets. It struck me as strange because Marcus had decorated every other room in the house in gaudy expensive furniture, but not this one.

Walking over to the desk chair I sat down in front of his computer and turned it on. I exhaled a frustrated breath when a request for a password popped up. Nothing could ever be that easy for me. Luckily Marcus was self-absorbed and a Momma’s boy, the password most likely would be his or his mommas birthday, I tried his Momma’s first.

I hated that bourgeois bitch. She’d been the bane of our marriage from the very beginning. She wasn’t above telling me how she thought her son was too good for me, and at first I believed her.

I thought Marcus was one of the best-looking men I’d ever seen—when he’d approached me in a local bar during happy hour one night. 6’3, 220 pounds of muscle and the color of caramel or ‘high yella’ as my Granny would have called him. With piercing green eyes I’d got lost in. He was college educated, and from a well to do family and wealthy. I was the chubby country girl who had barely gotten an associate degree in business from a community college. I’d felt honored that he’d chosen me. Boy was I wrong. Between the constant degradation and humiliation, I’d suffered at his hands and his Mom’s, it wasn’t a year before I’d realized that I wasn’t lucky at all.

Damn!That didn’t work, so I tried his.

“Yes!” His computer came to life.

It didn’t take me long to find the evidence for which I was searching.

My granny used to talk about love making you blind. Leave it to me to find out firsthand that it left you deaf, dumb, and stupid as well. I scrolled through picture after picture of my husband with what seemed like hundreds of different women, all colors, body shapes and sizes. At the very least he didn't discriminate, I thought bitterly.

Now I’m not a prude, but some of the stuff I saw in those pictures was downright lewd and lascivious. He had been involved in threescore, orgies. There were toys being used by him, and on him. Bodily fluids of all kinds were exchanged.

I looked through the pictures until I couldn’t take it anymore. Closing the folder, I clicked on his saved bank records. I don’t know what he was doing with his money, but it seemed to disappear as fast as it was deposited.

Marcus was a realtor who sold expensive, lavish houses all across the country. From my understanding, he made hundreds of thousands of dollars in commission. I’d seen the checks when we first got married, then he stopped showing me. Our lifestyle was expensive, but not enough to be damn near broke. He had less than sixty thousand in his checking and nothing in savings. When I couldn’t figure out where all the money had gone I clicked out of that window and went to his email account. There were a lot of emails from his Mother. I clicked on the most recent. My head swam as I read it..

Your daughter is six now and asks about you all the time, it’s time for you to leave that bitch you married and be with Jenny. You have a family and you should act like it. I raised you better than this.