We were soul mates; of this I was certain. Then one day he said, “I’ve decided to go on an adventure.”
We drove down the main road about eight miles into town to park by the dock for the night. Robert was out of the truck checking for damage before it came to a full stop. There were a couple of bullet holes from the rocks, but it was still intact.
It would be a wet, rainy weekend, and no one loved the antics, rain or shine, more than Robert. It was Friday, and the rain would continue throughout the night. The sound of rain to this day reminds me of this night. As daylight approached, we were snapped out of our sleep by a pounding on the door.
It is still hard to this day to describe the fever I had for him. Every day we spent together, the deeper I fell into the pit of love. I knew I’d found my soul mate. There was just one small problem.
We seemed to be connected by something far more magical than love alone. We spent every waking and sleeping moment together when he was in town. We loved, and laughed, talked and giggled and journeyed deep into each other’s lives.
I was thirty six. It was July, 1987. It was an unusually warm night and I remember the sweet soft breeze that followed me around that summer like it was yesterday. Liz, a long-time family friend, invited me to join her with a couple of other friends at the annual County Fair Dance. And she wanted to show off her new guy.
I drove my meager belongings down that little country road to Rosie’s house. As the car meandered along something very unusual was about to happen. Not certain what was obscuring my vision of the road ahead, I struggled to focus my eyes.
We met in 1998, a year before the assault. Today I believe it was divine intervention. She entered my home office by way of referral. Rose was her name. She looked older than her years as the ashen skin spoke of her searing physical pain.
With sales dwindling as I wound down the company, I thought I’d have to couch-surf and beg, borrow or steal. Returning the two company cars was the first time in my life where I wasn’t financially stable enough to own a car. And then the whole mess ended in bankruptcy; for me, not him. That was fun. Then a dear friend stepped up and offered me a wee spot to rest.
Skip forward six years from that woman in the window in 1993. Out of the blue one evening, my common law husband of six years decided to beat me up.