The Dark Knight Of The Soul

Chapter Two

I left the jewelers shop in shock. My hands trembled as I nervously adjusted the buttons on my coat to cover me from the biting March wind. It was worthless, my diamond engagement ring was merely a piece of glass. There was nothing precious or sentimental about it.... Just cheap dress jewelry. I looked down at the diamond, or rather the piece of glass on my finger encrusted in the sliver ring. Disbelief engulfed me. I was angry and ashamed at my naivety... Why? It was all I could think about, why? It didn't make sense at all. There must be some mistake here?
The shop teller seemed to show pity in his face, as I tried desperately to hide my humiliation. I quickly ran across the road opposite the shop, to my car. I never left my house unless I knew I could park directly outside where I was going. I unlocked the car and sat in the seat quickly. My heart started thumping and my hands became sweaty, they were shaking and palpitations started to pump away in my chest, I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my heart again and I was getting light headed again. I fumbled in my handbag, desperate to find an aspirin. I took a deep breathe trying desperately to control this panic attack as I quickly popped the pill out of the silver foil and into my mouth. I watched a young mother strap her toddler into his car seat and then pack her shopping away into the car, she didn't notice me sitting here taking deep breathes. I was grateful of that fact at least, god I must look pathetic.
My breathing helped to calm my pounding heart, slowly I regained control of myself. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, it was almost two thirty, I must have been sitting here in the car for over twenty-five minutes. I turned on the ignition and drove out of the car park bay, making my way back home.
I pulled the car onto the drive, the familiar sound of the crunch from the gravel beneath the tires, I was conditioned to this sound, and it was almost like a warning bell to alert me of when Harrison arrived home.
I closed the front door behind me and fell into a heap on the floor, I felt so angry and helpless. I didn't know what was going on. My head was trying to rationalise everything, trying to find some reason why? I was forever chasing my tail. Searching for an answer as to why my beautiful diamond solitaire engagement ring was a fake. Could it be a mistake? Was there some reason I overlooked? I felt sick to the stomach every time I looked at it. I've got to figure out a way that I can approach the subject with Harrison so that I can discover the truth? But how? He's only going to totally flip out in rage of fury, I can't handle another one of those again.
I took off my coat and went upstairs, I opened up my jewelry box, there was the ruby ring my grandmother bought me when I was twenty one, and there was a gold bangle that my parents bought me when I graduated. Then there was the necklace Harrison bought me when we first got married, I picked it up to inspect it a bit more. 'Was this fake too?' I wondered as I looked closely for some sign of a hall mark or a stamp of authenticity. There was a small mark on it, that was a relief. I put all my rings and bracelet back in the box, snapping it shut.
I looked up at the bedroom window in a daze, then I realised I hadn't checked all the doors and windows. I quickly raced around the house, checking everything again. Everything was exactly how I left it. No odd cups on the draining board. No windows open. I double checked everything again and I noticed that it was the first time that everything was how I left it. I glanced at my watch, it was almost six o clock. Harrison will be home soon, I jumped up and quickly scanned the house for cleanliness and made sure everything was in order. The towels in the cloakroom were twisted so I straightened them, the kitchen sink was clear from any sign of cutlery or dinnerware. This especially irritated Harrison, he loathed seeing anything draining in the sink, he would wail and shout at how unhygienic it was, collecting germs and bacteria as it was sitting exposed on the draining board. Even the tea towels that dried the dishes could only be used once, as they contained bacteria once they had been used. I jogged quickly upstairs to check the towels in the en-suite were straight and clean, a speck of white toothpaste was on the mirror and then I heard the front door open and my heart  immediately started racing, I grabbed some toilet tissue and frantically wiped the white spot away.
Please god, don't let him upstairs. Please. "Hi honey," I called out jovially as I threw the used tissue down the toilet and flushed the chain. I re composed myself and gingerly walked downstairs, greeting Harrison at the doorway, my face flushed with panic and my heartbeat pumping away in my chest.
"I hope you washed your hands," he scowled, hearing the toilet flush, he eyed me cautiously. His eyebrows pushed together and his eyes narrowed.
I nodded as I went to kiss his cheek. "I'll get you a drink." I didn't need to ask if he wanted a drink, it was expected of me to know what he wanted. Every night when he would come home from work I would bring him a coffee as he sat reading the daily paper in his chair. He never looked up at me, or thanked me for that matter, often he would grunt. When he was especially tense, he would flick and shake the paper near my face, it meant he was in a bad mood and the forceful shaking of the paper was aimed at me. It was an instruction for me to ask what was wrong, to give him attention. I was to sit and listen to whatever it was he needed to offload to me. I was his personal counsellor. It was something I'd learnt to do frequently since my marriage.
Listen... Sit... Obey... Serve. These words seemed to be my entire existence.
Those words became the extent of my vocabulary, they kept me sane really. As long as I abided by any of the four words, I was being a dutiful wife, honoring my vows. Making my husband happy.
I made spaghetti and meatballs for tea. Harrison loved food that had a tomato base to it, sometimes he would commend my meals and other times he criticise them pointing out if too much salt was used. I could never actually tell if too much salt was used, I always measured everything so that it wouldn't arouse his criticism, but it never made any difference anyway. How he could taste such a slight difference always baffled me. I told myself he had very acute taste buds and could taste the slightest difference in everything. Yet at restaurants he never ever noticed any slight modification in the way his food was delivered or tasted. It's always my cooking that is inadequate? He was always quick to criticize the food if it was cold. Sometimes he was downright rude to the staff, I always felt embarrassed of his brutal manner in public.
Harrison heaved a loud sigh. A signal that I was to take notice immediately. I looked over to him as I sat on the sofa to acknowledge his distress. His face was scowling, and he started breathing in short snorts, through his nose. He was getting angry and frustrated. "Everything okay?" I asked politely, knowing full well that it wasn't.
He glanced over to me, his eyes bore into mine a scornful glare. They looked dangerous and vindictive, I felt an uneasy sensation in the pit of my stomach, a sensation I knew well.
Anxiety.
"Where did you go today?" He asked, his tone was demanding.
"Nowhere." I replied calmly, feeling on edge. I wondered if my voice was my biggest give away, if it quivered as much as I was quivering inside.
"Don't lie to me." He snapped, leaning forward to stare at me, to watch every flinch and movement in my face.
"I'm not lying." I lied, trying to keep a calm face.
How did he always know when I was lying?
"Oh, I popped into town." I added trying to sound as aloof as possible.
He looked at me with contempt. "What for?" His tone of voice was getting more aggressive.
"To buy my sister a birthday present," I tried to remain calm, but it was impossible. I was flicking with the tassel on the end of the pillow with my fingers. My foot was tapping up and down and I felt my breathing increase as the fear rose up inside, increasing my heartbeat by the second.
"What? That sister who doesn't give a fuck about you? That sister who always undermines you, telling you how she's a much better person than you?" He stood up, and went to walk out the door, then quickly turned around on his heel back towards me. The air was tense now, I was starting to panic, and adrenaline coursed through my veins and sent my body into overdrive, pulsating through me like a speed train. I felt an incredible urge to visit the bathroom.
"It's her birthday next week. I can't just rule her out of my life." I spoke gently.
"Yes you can. She's ruled you out of hers. She doesn't, want to know you anymore, she hasn't wanted to know you for over a year." He snarled. His words stung like a bee. Yet it was true, and that was what stung me the most. Being reminded that I had ruled my sister out of my life. We hadn't spoken since Christmas and even then it was brief. We used to be so close, yet over the past two years the distance between us had grown so much that I felt I had to push her aside. She doesn't understand that I have to keep myself safe. She doesn't see how much danger she would be in if I even maintained some minute contact with her. It upsets Harrison so much that it's easier to live without my family communication than it is to have their contact. I felt an overwhelming surge of guilt and shame wash over me. My life was a disaster and she would only berate me and tell me I have myself to blame. Which she was right. I was to blame. I felt tears pooling in my eyes as Harrison marched back in the room. He peered his face next to mine, like a dog, sniffing out a new scent, searching for my facial expression. For a split second I felt like I was being examined, his eyes inquisitive. I was unsure of whether he was about to strike me or the furniture. Strangely, he put his arm around me softly and embraced me in a hug. He whispered gently, "I care more about you than your family. We're a team me and you," he broke his embrace and then mumbled in a firmer tone. "Look, do what you want with your sister. Get her a birthday present if that's what you want to do. Who am I to tell you what to do?"
I quickly wiped my tears away, scolding myself for being weak, I stood up and walked out of the room, I felt Harrison stare at me as I passed him by the doorway. A cold shiver ran down my spine. He grabbed my arm and I swung round, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm the only person that loves you, remember THAT!" he grinned, smugly.
I nodded, lowering my head to the floor, "I'm just going to the bathroom." I replied softly and he let go of my arm. I heard him slump heavily down into the chair and let out a sigh as I walked away.
I sat on the toilet in the upstairs bathroom, reaching forward to take some tissue, my hands trembled but I managed to pull some tissue and wipe away the black smudges my mascara had left. I took deep breathes and looked at myself in the mirror.
How did he know I went out today?