Smile (Kris Bryant)

Chapter Three| Brutal Reality

Alexandria

I get home after a really long day at work just hoping, praying, that tonight isn't that bad. The sun was still high and the temperatures was pretty warm for early May. It would suck if this beautiful day turned to shit, it would also suck if I got my hopes up that it would end up any other way.

Today was another successful workout with the guys and Kris and as much as I hate to admit it, I have feelings for him. Strong ones at that. He's such a sweet guy and is one hell of a ball player. I see him almost every day he is in town because he always wants to get better. It's been two weeks and he already looks like he's improved in his base running and fielding. I've quickly become obsessed with how his tall frame always following me around the gym. His beautiful eyes always trying to find mine. I love that he always walks me to my car to make sure I make it there okay and wants to know what I'm doing and if I'm happy doing it. He's a great guy and treats me like a real person. I love how he makes me feel, like it's just me and him. But the brutal reality is that I can't be with him. I will never be able to be with him.

I set my things down on the counter and go through the mail. Junk, bills, scams, junk, oh Macy's is having a sale! I continue to skim through all the things I picked up hoping time passes by quickly so I can get to work tomorrow and not be here. I feel a hand hit my ass hard and jump out of my skin. I cannot begin to explain how much I hated when he did that. My fiancé appears by my side and I close my eyes praying that when I opened them he would be gone.

"Hi Spencer" I grumble and he pouts.

"You're gone all day and all I get is a "hi Spencer"" he asks. I continue to act like I don't hear him and his pout turns into a frown.

"What's wrong" he asks and I sigh.

"I'm just tired" I answer coldly.

"You're always tired" he claims. Truth was I was tired of him. I was tired of us and being in this house and I just want to get the hell out of here. But I would never be stupid enough to tell him that.

"I don't know what to tell you, I just am" I claim. He places a kiss on my neck and my skin crawls under his touch. I cringe as he pulls me into him and I close my eyes hoping it is over soon.

I often times wonder why I let it get this far. I wonder why I protect him or defend him when he hasn't done one good thing worth noting in months. Why I continue to come back here when I could be better off literally anywhere else. Why I can't just tell someone what happens at this house and how I feel. But he always finds out when I do something he doesn't like. I know he's at my work watching me, I know he tracks my phone. I know that if I so much as think a certain way that he wouldn't like I'm in deep shit.

It wasn't always like this. Back in high school I would have never thought it would get this bad. That I would feel such a great amount of fear and pain from the man I once loved. That sweet boy in high school would never do to me what this man has done, and a part of me misses what we used to be. But it's too late now. I'm stuck here and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

My relationship is... not good. Actually it's like living in a hellish nightmare and when you wake up you're still in a nightmare. I'm not sure how else to put it. It's simply bad. I might be fit and strong, but not as strong as Spencer is. Self defense only gets you so far. He was almost a full foot taller than me and had at least twenty pounds of muscle on me. I was scared shitless of him, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care that I don't want to come home. Doesn't care that I'm afraid to have friends because he won't approve of them, he never does. He doesn't care that I'm scared to so much as move in this house because I'm afraid he'll hurt me. Because he will. If I do as much as breathe the wrong way he hits me, and hard. If I don't look good enough for him he chokes me until I turn blue. If he thinks I even looked at another guy he slaps me hard. And if I threaten to leave... yeah I only made that mistake once. I don't think I'll live to make that mistake twice. From the day he put that ring on my finger I've been trapped in this house and I can't get out.

"Why don't you say we have some fun" he whispers in my ear and my knees give from beneath me.

"I think I'm gonna be sick" I say running into the bathroom to throw up. Ugh he makes me feel so disgusting. So gross and vile and I hate it. I walk out the bathroom and find Spencer there waiting for me leaning on the wall. He looked so kind, so protective, but he was so bad.

"What do you want for dinner" I ask making my way to the kitchen.

"You" he smirks and I almost throw up again.

"How about lasagne" I suggest.

"I guess" he says and I let out a sigh.

I get everything made and into the oven before cleaning up. I set the table for us and am satisfied with what I made. Cooking always seems to get me into my own world away from my problems. I always enjoyed cooking. I walk into our room to change into more comfortable clothes but am met with incredible force. The sound of his knuckles meeting my jaw echoes through the house then I hit the ground hard reaching for my face as I feel him tower over me. I can tell that this won't end well.

"Who is this Kris guy you're always texting, huh" he yells.

"He's a guy on the team Spencer, you know this. I had to text him so he knew when to meet up for work. Look at the messages, they're strictly business" I explain.

"You work with him. You shouldn't be texting him" he claims.

"How else would he find me and times to work out" I ask.

"He should already know" he yells. He grabs my arm tightly causing me to yelp tossing me back to the floor. I see a pool of blood but I'm not sure where it's from. I've gone numb by this time so it could be anything really. I turn my head so I didn't have to look at it but now I see Spencer hovering over me just mad as ever over nothing again.

"You better not let it happen again" he warns before waking out. Great, another thing I have to worry about even though I'm not sure what I'm worried about. I slowly pull myself off the ground and into the bathroom. I knew I shouldn't have, but I look in the mirror and sigh as I see a huge opening on jawline. There was a red hand mark on my arm and my elbow was already bruising from when I fell on it. I stitch it up the best I can and clean up the blood. I move some hair around and look at the hand marks on my neck, it never does go away before there are new ones to replace it. No make up in the world could cover that up. I feel the tears fall steadily as everything comes back to the brutal reality. I wasn't getting out of this relationship. I wasn't getting out of this house. And I wasn't going to be able to live a happy life. I honestly wasn't sure why I try anymore.