Over the course of time, his moods became darker. And it had been escalating lately, especially since Brendon had left. Going cold-turkey from coming off the Percocet hadn’t helped. Several years before, he had been in a motorcycle accident and needed surgery. And just like every other doctor at the time, his surgeon had put him on pain meds. For a bit too long. After six months, amid the national surge and outrage about opiate addiction, the department’s on-call surgeon would no longer refill his script. He had given up the motorcycle when he was told it had been totaled and didn’t want to spend the money on a new one. “Those days are over,” he had barked at her. And he had never been the same since.

Tori was aware that there were genetic ties to addiction so she limited her alcohol consumption to one glass of wine. She didn’t want to turn out like her mother. But her husband’s family was a hot mess. All of his relatives had one issue or another. She kept that in the back of her mind and worked hard to keep their household as peaceful as possible. Reliability. Consistency. Argument avoidance. Life was just easier that way.

They lived in a small town. The crime rate was high, but it was mostly auto thefts, so his hours were relatively normal. Which meant that when he wasn’t at work, he would be out with his pals.

She checked the bruises on her arm. It was partially her fault. When the doctor asked about them, Tori told her she fell carrying a load of laundry. It was half true. She had brought the laundry basket up from the basement when he grabbed her and started kissing her hard. It had been a while since they made love. He never seemed interested, but that night he was in the mood, and she was happy to oblige his desire. She hoped it would bring back some kind of spark to their relationship, but it had been rough and not very romantic.

Tori wished she had a best friend. Someone she could confide in. But there wasn’t anyone, and even if there were, she didn’t know if she should or could talk about it. For one thing, she was embarrassed. The other was that her husband was a cop. It was an unspoken rule. You didn’t discuss your personal life with others.

Tori sighed and rested her head on the steering wheel. She was proof you shouldn’t run off and marry the first boy you kiss.

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Namaste Café
Present day