Tainted Love: contemporary womens fiction love story and family saga (Behind Closed Doors Book 1) by Erin Cawood Page B
Authors: Erin Cawood
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about the baby and the plans I’d already made he looked heartbroken. It was as though I’d destroyed his world.
"What?"
"I said cancel the appointment, Fay."
"Y-you want m-m-me to k-k-keep the baby?"
"It is a life you and I have created." He smiled at me. He was in an uncharacteristic mood. All bright and chirpy and even more so since I'd broken the news. "Of course I want to keep our baby."
Well, I didn't! A permanent reminder of the day he... but there was no way was I defying Cal and putting myself at risk of the same punishment. So the doctor's appointment was cancelled, and Zoe came.
I love her, D and every time I remember how she was conceived, I remember even at his most evil, Cal managed to make something so pure and good and innocent. She has my hair, my eyes. He calls her Daddy’s little fireball and she always carries this teddy bear he bought for her. But to me she’s... well, she’s my silver lining.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fall 1997
I know I shouldn't have. I know I was taking a huge risk in going behind Cal's back, but I started having the pill injection every three months. I was terrified he’d find out and what he’d do, but I wanted no more “accidents” to happen with this man. It wouldn’t be fair to any additional children.
Of course, when my periods stopped he thought I was going through “the change”, even though I hadn't even hit forty. My mood swings were added to the list of things to his displeasure and my reduced sex drive didn't stop him from getting it when he wanted it. Without the “it's that time of the month” excuse, there wasn't an excuse to say no. Not that it made any difference even when I did. By the time Georgia left for college, I thought Cal had done all there was he could do. I tried, really tried, not to do anything to upset him.
The little ones, they always wore matching pretty little dresses, with cute white lace topped socks. Their little black leather shoes shone so bright he could see his face when he looked down. They were always immaculately clean, their soft baby curls always in perfect braids or tidy bunches. They looked the way little girls were supposed to look and were never anything like you, Caleb, or Georgia, because that was what Cal wanted.
But he was always angry, so very, very angry. It was as though I could never do anything right. One day it was a mistake, when I rectified it, even that was wrong, and the next time he insisted we talk in the bedroom. I used to get butterflies when he said those four words. By this point it was always moths eating my insides, because it was not a case of if; it was only a matter of when .
It didn’t seem to matter anymore, however hard I tried. I just seemed to make the problem worse. Even if I did everything as he said, he told me I needed to try harder. But he loved me. I knew he loved me. He said he loved me. He showed me how much he loved me with all the gifts and flowers he bought. And there were times when I saw him, the man that he was, the man I married nineteen years ago; the man who didn’t like to do this to me.
Oh, and he wasn’t like this before Caitlyn, when he pleaded with me not to have her. When he’d told me he couldn’t handle the pain this time. So this was my fault. I’d forced him into a child he didn’t want. I’d forced him to face the pain he wasn’t ready for. I knew how hard this was for him and I knew he had a temper. This was my fault, so I’d deal with all of it. I’d stand by his side until he made it through, and we were strong enough to survive because he still loved me.
But I'll never forget the day the glass shattered as it hit the stainless steel sink. Every muscle in my body tensed. All of my focus was kept on slicing the carrots exactly the way he liked them but the sixth sense, Cal-sense, sprang into action.
Oh God! I was next.
"What's wrong with you?" he snapped.
"Nothing," I squeaked. When had I become this woman? When
"What?"
"I said cancel the appointment, Fay."
"Y-you want m-m-me to k-k-keep the baby?"
"It is a life you and I have created." He smiled at me. He was in an uncharacteristic mood. All bright and chirpy and even more so since I'd broken the news. "Of course I want to keep our baby."
Well, I didn't! A permanent reminder of the day he... but there was no way was I defying Cal and putting myself at risk of the same punishment. So the doctor's appointment was cancelled, and Zoe came.
I love her, D and every time I remember how she was conceived, I remember even at his most evil, Cal managed to make something so pure and good and innocent. She has my hair, my eyes. He calls her Daddy’s little fireball and she always carries this teddy bear he bought for her. But to me she’s... well, she’s my silver lining.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fall 1997
I know I shouldn't have. I know I was taking a huge risk in going behind Cal's back, but I started having the pill injection every three months. I was terrified he’d find out and what he’d do, but I wanted no more “accidents” to happen with this man. It wouldn’t be fair to any additional children.
Of course, when my periods stopped he thought I was going through “the change”, even though I hadn't even hit forty. My mood swings were added to the list of things to his displeasure and my reduced sex drive didn't stop him from getting it when he wanted it. Without the “it's that time of the month” excuse, there wasn't an excuse to say no. Not that it made any difference even when I did. By the time Georgia left for college, I thought Cal had done all there was he could do. I tried, really tried, not to do anything to upset him.
The little ones, they always wore matching pretty little dresses, with cute white lace topped socks. Their little black leather shoes shone so bright he could see his face when he looked down. They were always immaculately clean, their soft baby curls always in perfect braids or tidy bunches. They looked the way little girls were supposed to look and were never anything like you, Caleb, or Georgia, because that was what Cal wanted.
But he was always angry, so very, very angry. It was as though I could never do anything right. One day it was a mistake, when I rectified it, even that was wrong, and the next time he insisted we talk in the bedroom. I used to get butterflies when he said those four words. By this point it was always moths eating my insides, because it was not a case of if; it was only a matter of when .
It didn’t seem to matter anymore, however hard I tried. I just seemed to make the problem worse. Even if I did everything as he said, he told me I needed to try harder. But he loved me. I knew he loved me. He said he loved me. He showed me how much he loved me with all the gifts and flowers he bought. And there were times when I saw him, the man that he was, the man I married nineteen years ago; the man who didn’t like to do this to me.
Oh, and he wasn’t like this before Caitlyn, when he pleaded with me not to have her. When he’d told me he couldn’t handle the pain this time. So this was my fault. I’d forced him into a child he didn’t want. I’d forced him to face the pain he wasn’t ready for. I knew how hard this was for him and I knew he had a temper. This was my fault, so I’d deal with all of it. I’d stand by his side until he made it through, and we were strong enough to survive because he still loved me.
But I'll never forget the day the glass shattered as it hit the stainless steel sink. Every muscle in my body tensed. All of my focus was kept on slicing the carrots exactly the way he liked them but the sixth sense, Cal-sense, sprang into action.
Oh God! I was next.
"What's wrong with you?" he snapped.
"Nothing," I squeaked. When had I become this woman? When
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