Life Over Love Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ©2013CherylSeagraves all rights reserved

  Life Over Love

  Prologue

  Brianna stood on tiptoe about one inch from the mirror to better inspect her reflection. This had become sort of a daily routine. She would bend over the dresser, almost press her face against the glass, and from top to bottom check out the damage.

  With both arms lifted she parted her hair, yes her head hurt to the touch, but there were no visible bruises. From there she let her eyes travel down. She looked at her cheeks, there was a faint yellow bruise there, but it wasn't sore. Her hands moved down touching different spots as she examined herself. She looked at each eye, then each cheek, and then her neck. Her neck, that's where she stopped, she tilted her head to the side, and angled her chin up so she could see what it looked like. There were three really big bruises that looked exactly like huge hickeys; she thought it ironic that painful bruises on the neck looked just like hickeys.

  Brianna continued the exam by pulling down her shirt collar low enough to see the tennis ball sized bruise on her right breast. Greenish yellow, satisfied to see it was healing nicely, she stepped back from the mirror. Realized, this was part of the routine too, and just gazed at her reflection. She gave the mirror a fake smile and saw the basics, long dark hair, green eyes, slight overbite, small pink mouth, freckles, and a small gap in between otherwise straight teeth.

  When she was a kid, she had read a magazine article that said "love what makes you unique", and so she did. People loved her back then, they said her smile was contagious; she was the embodiment of the word attractive. Brianna's laughing eyes and quick humor drew people in and turned her average good looks into beauty.

  She used to love herself. Past tense, because during this point in her routine she always had one thought, God what happened to you, who are you? Well, whoever you are I hate you. Usually after a moment or two of self-loathing she would take a deep heavy breath, turn around, and start cleaning something. This time she didn't get the chance, this time something happened.

  She hadn't heard him enter the room. She had not heard him because he didn't want her to, but she did hear him lock the door. When she turned around all the hate she normally aimed at her reflection was aimed at him. It took Brianna about five seconds to process what she thought had happened into what actually happened.

  Brianna thought her husband had left to go to the shop with his friend. In reality Mike had gotten angry about something and only pretended to leave. She hated him then, she wanted him to know it, and she didn't care about the consequences.

  Apparently she had flirted with Mike's friend Sam. As Brianna was busy with her self exam, after she thought they had left. Mike stewed long enough to make it down the driveway, and change his mind. He told Sam "never mind man, I'm gonna stay home." Sam looked quizzically out the truck window. "You sure?" Sam asked. Mike just winked "yeah man, you go on without me, I got somethin' I forgot I gotta do." With that he shut the door and quietly walked back to the house.

  "So what's this?" He questioned with a smirk and a feminine gesture of his hips. It should have been comical, big cement stained, construction guy doing that. The sarcasm wasn't lost on Brianna and she was fed up. Sick and tired of being afraid in her own home, and absolutely always falling short of one step ahead. So this time turned into something quite different. This time she fought back.

  Not like before when she was too shocked and bewildered to really put up a good fight. She fought him with wild desperation, fueled by hurt and anger. Brianna was amazing in her own right; she defended herself as best she could. At first when Mike stood by the door insulting her they just bantered back and forth. She felt like an angry volcano, to every accusation she replied with quick wit and stinging sarcasm.

  He finally lost it completely and charged at her. Her hands went up and she fought like a feral cat. She planted several well placed blows to his face, head, and chest. He threw her whole body against the dresser, where the two of them grappled, shaking the small room with the force of their thrashing. He wanted to put her in her place, after all he was twice her size. This time however, much to his surprise she held her own.

  Their violence traveled to the bathroom, she kept fighting throughout the exhausting ordeal. The whole thing just felt so surreal. She heard the metallic sound of skull pounding against porcelain, but it didn't register in her bruised mind that it was hers. Nothing mattered to her at that moment except not giving up or backing down. There were no thoughts, just adrenaline. There was no way to back down anyway. She felt lower in her heart than she had ever been. Mentally resigned to an end, the battle raged on, and made its way to the bedroom again.

  Mike's anger grew like suffocating flames with each passing second, ignited further by his indignation. He was baffled by her stamina; they had fought for what seemed like hours. The only way he could get her to stop clawing and hitting him was to pin her down onto the bed.

  Mike wrestled her down on the bed, and managed to crouch down on top of her. He hunkered down with such force on her chest, she felt sure to split in two. His shins like iron rods dug into her hip bones, and pinned her deep into the bed. His tight grip on her sore shoulders, were almost too much to bear. Even though the entire lower half of her body was unencumbered, she was rendered motionless. He loosened his hold just enough to slide his hands up against her throat, right above her collar bone.

  Brianna heard him struggle to catch his breath; she vaguely wondered why she didn't just break under his weight. It wasn't until she closed her eyes thinking the only way this is ever going to end is if one of us dies, that the tears finally came. Mike could barely make out the sound of her hoarse whisper when she managed to speak some of her thoughts "would you be happy if it were me?" The dark behind her eyelids got darker and she let go...

  1

  "Come on babe it's getting late and the baby is getting tired." It was past eleven pm, Brianna and Mike Garcia had been at his parents’ house for what was supposed to be a little Christmas Eve party for seven hours. Brianna had tolerated the loud music, bad breath, and worse jokes for as long as she could. By her count Mike was plenty partied out and had more than his share of beer.

  Mike's eyes the color of honey were red rimmed and heavy lidded. He tilted his head back to focus better on what his pretty little wife was saying, when he looked at her too long he almost forgot that she was nagging him. He was just starting to have fun, with his family, and she wanted to leave. She always wanted to leave; in fact nine times out of ten she didn't want to come in the first place.

  He heard the country music playing behind him, his dad singing, and crying along to Tim McGraw’s Angry All the Time. Mike or Miguel as his family called him grabbed Brianna around the waist. He had intended to spin her around and dance to the tune of the whaling music, but instead he just sagged heavily against his wife.

  "Please Mike, you promised." It was hard to lift his head up from the crease of her neck so soft, but when he did he looked into her pleading eyes, and for a minute to him she was fifteen again.

  He fumbled and touched her cheek, but his hand felt too heavy on his arm, so he let it fall hard by his side. Mike wanted to reach up, and tried to focus on her eyes again, but this time he saw his own drunken reflection. Seeing himself like that in her eyes made him feel ashamed, which only made him mad.

  It was extremely hard for Brianna to curb her aggravation when he got like this. He would drink too much and spend the rest of the night in a stubborn state of anger and melanch
oly. He would have as many more drinks as it took until he was nodding his head, before he finally passed out in a corner chair somewhere. Leaving Brianna to either drive home alone with the baby, or spend the night on the couch with the rest of the drunk and brainless.

  A tear of frustration spilled out from the corner of her eye. She hastily swiped it away, actually stomped her foot and yanked Mike back to attention. "Mike, listen my feet hurt, please let's go home like you said." He heard the urgency in the nagging tone, and muttered "fine, but I wanna stop and get some more beer to take home." He wasn't quite ready to call it a night.

  Brianna didn't want to argue, she just wanted to be home in her bed. So after a little pit stop they were finally headed home. Brianna carried their two year old into the house. After tucking in her little living doll, Brianna stood to arch and stretch her aching back. She stared at the ceiling thinking how long this day had seemed and the forty five minute drive hadn't helped any either.

  She pondered taking a hot bath, but was way too exhausted. Brianna laid her hand on her ever expanding belly thinking of the new baby. When she looked down at her angel, warm in the glow of her purple moon beam night light, she thought soon it won't be just us kiddo. She whispered to the little girl sleeping under her mass of curly black hair "how do you think you’re going to like being a big sister?"

  She steadied herself with both hands as she bent over the toddler bed to kiss the sleeping beauty. “Well, we'll know soon enough, until then I'm going to enjoy as much girl time with you as I can." With some effort she hoisted herself up to leave. Brianna looked back one more time then closed the door softly behind her.

  Mike sat on the sofa, with his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move, just yelled to Brianna down the hall. She couldn't help, but roll her eyes when she heard him. After she put on the softest night gown she owned she walked down the narrow hall. Brianna leaned against the door frame, wondering why he didn't just call it a night and come to bed.

  She asked "Yeah, what's up?" Without looking in her direction Mike answered “I want to go to Sam's house." Brianna was completely unable to hide her agitation. "Mike I am tired, it's freezing out, and I am not going to take the baby back out again." With that she turned around on her heel, thinking I guess it's not too fun drinking alone, and she climbed into bed.

  Her eyes were closed for all of three minutes when Mike was standing over her, shaking her shoulder. Three minutes. Not long enough to actually fall asleep, but just long enough have found the right spot on the pillow that made opening her eyes really hard to do. “Brianna, gimme the keys I'm going to Sam's."

  Not believing her ears she popped into an upright position. "Mike seriously? Your license is suspended; we just paid three hundred dollars for the DUI School!" "Ok then take me." Her eyes were so red from lack of sleep that her irises seem emerald in contrast, and they got huge in disbelief. "No, I'm tired, let's go to bed!" "Give me the keys now Brianna, NOW! Get up."

  He yanked her up, right below her shoulder. Holding, no bruising her arm, his thumb dug painfully into her under arm, as he painfully dragged her out of the room. "Owe, stop, okayuh. I'll get the keys." Mike didn’t let go, he just asked "Where's my beer?" Brianna swallowed hard before she answered, as calmly as she could when faced with an impending storm. "I didn't touch your beer it should still be in the trunk." Quietly he said “go get it.”

  Normally if he ordered her to go get it like that she would have been less cooperative, but she was glad to go out into the freezing wet night. She wanted to put as much space between them as she could. She was glad to go to the car, gave her time to collect her thoughts, and figure out his mood. She also needed to look around for the keys.

  Mike came out to the car, when she reached in to grab his six pack he clamped his big warm hand over hers cold and shaking. "Just forget it, gimme the keys, I'm gonna take off." She hated the fear in her stomach, but it was there just the same. Confusing her, making it hard to calm down enough to tell him that she could not remember where she put the keys.

  "Mike I, I can't remember where I put them." It wasn't the cold making her stammer. Mike's breath went up into the air like smoke, he seemed calm as he closed his eyes, and raised his face toward the sky. He seemed less angry, more like he was just irritated, inconvenienced, yet again.

  He didn't open his eyes; he just stood there, like that, with his head back.

  After a minute he said "you're lying, give me the keys, NOW!" Brianna jumped involuntarily. "I I'll find 'em Mike just give me a minute and I'll find them." She had her free hand on his trying to remind him that he still had a tight hold on her wrist.

  She looked up into his eyes. Realized, it didn't matter, even if he had the keys in his possession at that moment, nothing would have changed what happened next.

  2

  He lifted his right leg and kicked her at least three times in the shins until she fell to the ground. Brianna was not prepared for this kind of assault, she was completely shocked. Immediately she covered her stomach to somehow protect the baby inside. It didn't matter that her words were unintelligible. Mike wasn't listening; he couldn't hear anything but the blood pounding behind her ears.

  He was driven by an invisible rage that rose up, and threatened to choke him, unless he hit something or someone. He was consumed with a physical need to hit something until he was spent, so hit her, the pregnant mother of his only daughter, his childhood sweetheart, his wife Brianna.

  He bent down, grabbed her up by her sore arm. Half dragged, half carried her into the house. He pushed her into the living room and slammed the door. His voice low and menacing, he told her to find them. "Find them, now..."

  Find them. Find what? She thought oh my God, the keys, he still wants the keys. Shaking she searched for the keys. She tossed the house; she tore away the couch cushions. She looked in her room, lifted the clothes that she had been wearing at the party.

  She couldn't understand why her clothes were there, right in front of the bed where she'd left them, but still no keys. Brianna was really crying, she was trembling, and she couldn't catch her breath. She was still shocked by the scene that had played out in the drive way.

  She wanted more than anything to find those keys, to be alone, to cry, and to sleep. In the bathroom she knelt down to see if maybe she had dropped them under the cabinet, that's how she was when Mike came in, gasping for breath, trying hard to stop sobbing. She looked up briefly and resumed the search.

  He went to her then, knelt down beside her. She flinched and for whatever reason it was over. No more fight he simply said "come on mi hija, let's go to bed." She gulped and cried while he led her to their room. Finally they slept.

  She found the keys the next day. They were on the floor by the baby's bed, where she had dropped them to tuck in her sweetie.

  3

  "Momma are you ok? You looked too sad just now..."

  Brianna shook her head, blinked a little, and smiled brightly. Putting up Christmas decorations with her babies and she still couldn't keep her mind off that Christmas two years ago.

  She was terribly sad, but she tried not to be. “No, my baby girly I'm not sad. I'm happy, who waaants cookies!?"

  Chelsea squealed "Meeee!" as only a three year old can, followed by her handsome little man in diapers. Brody threw down his sippy cup, ran up to Brianna, and stretched out his arms to join in on the fun too.

  After picking up the baby, to the kitchen they went, off to make delicious Christmas cookies. Christmas cookies shaped memories to replace the monster shaped memories she wanted to forget. Mike came into the house, picked up Chelsea, and looked over Brianna’s shoulder.

  She fought the need to shudder before he kissed her cheek. "Hey babe, what smells good?" “Dinner, I made enchiladas they're in the oven” Brianna answered as she rubbed her nose against her toddlers nose, who was busy sitting on the counter with a mixing bowl in his lap. "Now, we're making cookies, but they're not in the smell good stage
yet. How was your day?"

  Mike put Chelsea down on the other side of the counter, and put his arms around his wife. "Not too bad, I missed you though, and I--" he broke off in the middle of his sentence. Brianna had yet to make eye contact; she focused on the sippy cup that lay on the floor. He gently tilted her chin up to make her look at him. “Don’t say you're sorry about last night. I know it's fine. You don't have to apologize anymore."

  " Dang it Bri, I'm trying to make it up to you. I don't know what's wrong with me, or how I could do that to you, hurt you like that." He murmured. Mike lifted her arm looked at the bruises and kissed each one. Four soft kisses where four hard fingers had dug in with such an iron grip, they turned pretty pink skin to black and blue.

  She snatched her arm back swallowed the humiliation the gesture caused. "Just don't apologize, it gets old, ok? You hungry?" Mike shook his head, "yeah, just let me wash up." After he left the room she busied herself preparing everyone's plates.

  Her thoughts were as follows: he doesn't love me, if hates me so much why does he look at me like that? Why do we fight so? I hate him, I hate me, I hate us, and I hate this. Oh lord what can I do? What can I possibly do about this? How did I let this happen, I'm too stupid, to fix it. I'll probably die like this, plain miserable.

  There were no tears. Brianna had stopped crying about everything a long time ago. Tears did nothing, but magnify the drowning feeling that threatened to engulf her.

  The hardest thing for her to deal with was the humiliation, the shame she felt for being so stupid, and for allowing her life to become such a wasteland. The only bright spots were her babies, and he never hurt them.

  "Briiiannnaa!” Mike was calling her from their room at the opposite side of their four bedroom trailer.