This is the rework of a self-published auto-biographical story (2008), rewritten for this blog. Names of characters have been changed.
Content warning: mental and physical abuse, misogyny.
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.
Continued from… Jealousy rears its head
Annie knew very well that not all that she had said was true, but she needed Fran to trust her. Sometimes Fran irritated her so much that she definitely wished she would just disappear. Fran being her support was a lie, but Fran should never know this.
“And,” Annie continued, “I don’t think Fred makes love to me more. He divides it equally and he always says that he makes sure one of us don’t get more than the other.”
“No, he fucks you more,” Fran interrupted.
“Okay, if you say so, but that’s not my fault. Talk to Fred about it. He doesn’t keep to his own rules. You can’t blame at me for that,” was the only defense Annie could think of.
It was quiet for a while. Annie knew she had to find some kind of solution for this, because she had a feeling otherwise this conversation would repeat itself in a couple of weeks. She had an idea. She would keep a journal. Secretly. She would use codes for when he had sex with Fran and when with her.
Then Annie thought of another solution for one of the complaints Fran had.
“You know what else we can do? Let’s switch places. I’ll take Melanie to school every morning, then you can take the younger ones. I have to start work earlier than you anyway. If we switch, you can leave here later in the mornings and you will have some more time with Fred than you had up to now.”
“Oh, Annie. You’re such a doll. I know my accusations are unfounded, but still I couldn’t help feeling like that. If we switch, it will be a lot better. Thank you so much!” Fran was genuinely happy. It softened Annie’s heart when she saw how little it took to satisfy Fran.
“Okay, let’s get dinner on the table,” Fran said and stood up to walk to the door. She grasped the doorknob, but she didn’t open the door. Seconds long, she stood there thinking, and then she turned back to Annie.
“I still think Fred fucks you more,” she said and disappeared before Annie had a chance to say anything.
Annie sat deep in thought for a while. Fran could infuriate her, but once she had the evidence in her journal, she would be able to take the edge of Fran’s argument.
Just as happened every evening, the two women took a bath together to get ready for bed. On evenings they were quite certain that Fred was in the mood for sex, they would caress each other on the bed. Whether Annie and Fran were in the mood, was unimportant. Everything revolved around Fred and his desires.
However, this evening Fred didn’t move at all. Both women were quite sure he was in the mood, but now thought they had misread the signs. No matter what they did, how much noise they made, Fred kept his eyes on the television screen with a blank expression on his face. Annie frowned and signaled a question to Fran, wanting to know how to handle this situation. This was new to her. Fran only shrugged her shoulders, but moments later, she dared to turn to Fred.
“Are you not in the mood, honey?”
“No, I am very tired,” he quietly said.
Annie was relieved, since she was tired too and she wanted to go to bed. She quickly went to the bathroom once more, gave both Fred and Fran a kiss and rushed to her bedroom, relieved that she could sleep in her own room tonight. Minutes later, she was in her warm bed, a book in her hands, but her tiredness won and she turned off the light.
Something sounding like a moan coming from Fran, alerted Annie. Oh no! Was Fred…? She listened carefully, but couldn’t hear what was going on. She feared for Fran, for a repeat of the beating of some weeks before. Then she heard Fran moan again. It didn’t sound like she was in pain. Softly, very softly, Annie got out of bed. With a tilted head, she listened at the half-opened door of her bedroom. Fran moaned again.
In a flash, Annie recognized the sound. Fran’s moans sounded the same as during their love-making sessions. Listening even more intently, Annie now heard the heavy breathing coming from the couple in the main bedroom. Even from where she stood, Annie heard how the couple tried to keep their sounds down. Fred had said he was tired, Annie thought bitterly. At the same time, she didn’t feel regret for not being part of their ‘fun’. Somehow, it was a relief not to be part of the compulsory routine.
However, one thought wouldn’t leave Annie’s mind: was it really necessary for the couple to be so sneaky about it?
To be continued… Time to end it
© Rebel’s Notes