My Detective

Chapter 1 - Still

Jennifer's POV

In the beginning, he was a charmer. Between the sweet goodnight and good morning texts, and surprise gifts on my doorstep, it was as if you were too good to be true. I soon learned that, in fact, you are.

Six months into our relationship, I found out he had cheated on me months before. He promised me that it was a huge mistake and that it would never happen again. He made me believe, our relationship deserved a chance. He made me feel safe around you. He was there at the times I was trying to figure out myself, he was there every step of the way. I remember when he used to scratch my back before I sleep, I even made him tell stories, he'd laugh at my childish requests. He would hold my hand during take offs cause he know it freaks me out. He would help me breathe in between my late night asthma attacks. He took care of me. I felt loved for a short moment of time. I grew up from orphan house, He knew my trouble growing up without my parents. He knew my pain better than anyone, or so I thought.

He swore that I was the only girl for him and the most perfect thing that you could have. He charmed me yet again. And so I stayed. And I'm still here.

But one night, he did something I thought he never could. He hit me.

Two years later, it was as if our relationship was dead. By then, he had called me every horrible name in the book. He would constantly call me unattractive, stupid, dumb, bitch and tell me I wasn't good enough. Each stabbing insult was another scar on my heart. But I would just cry it out when he's not around. I try acting all tough. I tried hiding my pain. He would always put other girls before me. He'd smell like an alcohol and unfamiliar cheap perfumes and I was constantly comparing myself to them. He always found a way to ruin something that was good for me. I spent countless nights crying, wondering where I went wrong, blaming myself for every wrong thing he would do to me. He would threaten me that if I dare to tell someone about it, he'd break every bone in my body. Then he began to break down my self-esteem, little by little, piece by piece. Any sane person would've left, but I didn't know how. I love him, I couldn't. But because we had been together since the beginning of high school, I didn't know how to be myself without him. And so I stayed, still.

Another two years passed by and he proposed to me. I was so happy and in love, I said yes.

Then it got worse.

I fear the look of complete rage and hatred on his face as he threw me up against the side of our house, repeatedly throwing me back against the wall as he choked me out. He was yelling, asking me questions, and expecting an answer as I was just struggling to breathe. I remember the helpless feeling that overtook me. I remember feeling like an inanimate object without a say in the world, and felt the weight of almost years of emotional abuse. Our next-door neighbor came outside complaining of a loud banging on his wall, saying the sound resembled the sound of moving furniture. The sound was just me being beaten by the man I thought I loved. I remember he forcibly pulling me to my car, yelling at me to leave.

I wanted to call the police and report everything, I could do that but again it would be no use since you have the power to make it useless. He's family was rich, they own a couple of companies. He has connection. I have no fight against him.

And even I wanted to, I love him deeply.

Afterwards when he reached out to me, he told me it was my fault, and that he weren't going to apologize. He told me that you meant to cancel our plans, that I shouldn't have been at your house. He put all the blame on me. So I continued to blame myself. I mean, I did go to your house and I did slap you in the face first after your negative words finally got the best of me. It had to have been my fault, right?

I remember that time when he took me to dinner with his sophisticated friends, I was feeling really ill that night so I asked not to go but he didn't let me. I forced myself to get out of bed that day. While we're having dinner, my asthma attack started acting up. I made a scene, and he was so mad about it. He beat me up as soon as we got home. He was yelling at me telling me how stupid I am to embarrass me, like I totally planned that right?

He's the reason I went to my friends  wedding with large bruises on my neck that some had mistaken as hickeys and scoffed at. He's the reason I spent many years without any confidence or self-worth. He's the reason I am still terrified when someone begins to raise their voice at me. He's the reason I can relate to almost any Taylor Swift song. He's the person I wasted three-fourths of my high school career crying over.

The whole him just disappeared, and I don't know where I went wrong.

I am tied with this marriage, but then again I was blinded by love.

He made me stop working and made me his punching bag every night he came home drunk. Deep down, I knew the man I loved was still in there, and I'm still here patiently waiting and hoping he'll be back.

Gino Pesi, he's very well known business man in our state. I know what you're thinking, I'm still lucky after all? No, I never felt that way.

But, I know, the man I married is still there.

So I'm here fighting, still.