Free Shades of Obsession by L J Hadley Page A

as I do each morning, to listen and watch the breaking day.
    The same but different each morning.
    This morning the
sky is a dark navy and I stare up and into it and I want to climb up into it, I
want it to lift me away from here, but I can’t think like that, so I gulp some
more water.
    Where are the
birds?
    Normally they are
deafening but this morning they are silent, maybe I’m early, but I don’t think
so.
    I remember
reading that the birds leave before an earthquake, or is it after?
    I want there to
be one.
    I want the
ground to open up and swallow me into it. I want the earth to split and crack
and for something to give because I can’t go on like this for much longer.
    Except, for the twins sake, I have to.
    I have to
survive this until they are eighteen.
    Somehow, I have
to survive.
    I break into a
run, which is not part of my routine; it cannot be a part of my routine.
    It was once.
    I used to run at
every chance, I would get up and run at five am, and then do it again a few
hours later - I needed the lactic acid burn and I need it now, I know that I
shouldn’t, but it’s more that I have to -   I am
running from myself, from my life.
    Five years and nine months till I can leave him.
    I count in my
head as I pound the pavement, as I pick up pace and my muscles fire, properly
fire, for the first time in years.
    Sixty nine months.
    The world moves
faster when I’m running - maybe I can speed up my life? Maybe I can break the
monotony by breaking the sound barrier. It’s all there, just faster - I nod to
the man who walks his dog and there’s that car again, with its engine idling,
the driver just sitting waiting, for whoever it is to
come out. All is the same as it always is, just faster.
    I regret running
though, not because it’s dangerous for me, more because I’m back at my house
too soon and for a moment I think about not going in, that I could just keep on
running.
    But I don’t.
    I get in the
house and I am breathless –I kick off my runners and climb the stairs, I
step into my bedroom and Rick’s still asleep.
    I run my shower
as I strip off and then I step in and wash quickly and dress - maybe I can have
a cup of coffee on my own before Rick gets up?
    ‘Portia…?’ he
rolls over as he starts to wake, he sort of feels the bed, he’s heard me, he’s
half asleep and I stand in our bedroom and freeze. I don’t want him to know
that I’m in here, I want him to think I’m still out
jogging.
    It’s been two
weeks since we had sex and I know that he wants it.
    It, not me.
    They’re two very
different things.
    I know I can’t
avoid it much longer, I know it will be tonight.
    I hate it.
    I hate that this
is what it comes down to, me tiptoeing out of the bedroom just to avoid sex
with the man I’ve been married to for thirteen years.
    I hate sex.
    But I didn’t
used to.
    There’s a stir
of a memory that I cannot visit, a pull low in my stomach that I felt when I
looked to the sky and I simply can’t go there.
    I cannot let
myself remember.
    Not yet.
    But I can feel
it building.
    I try to ignore
it.
    I wake the twins
and I get on with my morning and I smile when Rick comes downstairs and I make
him his coffee. ‘I won’t come home after school, I’ll just see you there.’ He’s
all showered and shaven and wearing a suit because today’s his big day –
a nice massage for his already overinflated ego - it’s the monthly PTA and
they’re asking for nominations to be on the committee.
    ‘Make sure you
get everything on the list…’ He reminds me.
    ‘Of course.’ I
smile, but inside I’m bracing myself for his next words - and bring the receipts.
    ‘And bring the
receipts.’
    So he can check
them.
    He checks
everything.
    I want to throw
his coffee in his face, but I just pass it to him.
    I just do my
best to get through my morning.
    You guys are the
reason I am here, I think to myself as I drive them to school. I chat to Gina
for a bit and then head to the hairdressers so that I