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Author's Chapter Notes:
Please if your squemish at all dont read this chapter! Deals with abuse.
Chapter 2: Break Apart her Heart


She sat back and swiped her arm across her forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat that had been beading there for the last hour. The sun was hot on the back of her neck and her fingers ached from all the time spent planting and pruning.

Ready for a nice tall glass of ice tea she picked up the baby monitor and started toward the house-- leaving her tools and gloves behind her. Mentally her mind was running through her shopping list for the week and wondered if Angel might be able to pick something up for her from the store on his way home from the office.

Sighing she decided it was best not to ask, she’d just get it when she went into town tomorrow. There was no need to start the fight that she knew it'd turn into. She toed off her tennis shoes on the back porch before she opened the sliding glass door and entered their museum like house.

She hated it.

But she’d never tell Angel that. There were a lot of things she'd never tell Angel.

Listening to the sound of her bare feet smacking against the tile floor she wondered into the kitchen and got herself a drink. She gulped down the first glass, poured herself another, and savored the second. It was such a beautiful day. Perfect for running away. The second she had the thought she shoved it down deep in her belly.

He's been good to you since the baby came. He's changed.

She grabbed the novel she'd been reading and headed toward the patio door but stopped short when she saw the cat sleeping on her baby grand.

“No, no, no, no, no, bad Fluffy! You get off of mommies piano right now!” She shooed the cat away and wiped cat fur off as carefully as possible, sighing with relief when she didn’t see any scratches.

The grand was a gift from her husband on her wedding day. He knew how much she enjoyed playing and encouraged her…

Well he used to encourage her.

She sat down on the bench and lifted the lid. She let her fingers drift gently over the black keys and cracked her knuckles before she began to play. Her fingers danced swiftly over the keys. She hummed along to the familiar tune.

Her book and previous plans forgotten she let her shoulders relax as she fell into the music. Notes and choruses. Staccato and feeling. She poured her heart into everything she played. She always had.

“You’re not a musician, not at heart.”

But she was and he knew it. It was just his way of telling her that she wasn't his. That she wasn't allowed to be his.

She should have never agreed to marry Angel. She should have gone back to William.

The baby monitor crackled as a tiny cry rang through. She took it as an omen and chastised herself for letting her mind go there. She stopped playing and shooed away the remnants of her feelings.

As she climbed the stairs and entered the nursery she smiled as she saw her daughters tiny fists waving in the air and realized that she wouldn’t trade this for the world. That her little girl made everything worth it.

“Hi little one!” She beamed. “How was your sleep? Did you dream of me? I missed you so.” So very worth it.
~+~
“Good evening, Elizabeth. How was your day?” Liam was a big man, intimidating and stern. Elizabeth wondered what had happened to the carefree young man she had fallen in love with three years ago. She wondered if she had ever truly known him at all.

“Very uneventful.” She said in between bites of her meal. She wasn’t really interested in talking to him. She just wanted to eat her dinner in peace and sneak off to bed. But she could tell that he was working himself into a mood.

“That’s it? You don’t even ask me how mine was in return?” He had set his fork on his plate and was looking at her with an unreadable expression. “Come here,” he demanded.

“Liam I asked you how you day was when you walked in the door.” She set her fork down and very carefully chose her next words. “Please. I did not mean to be rude. Please forgive--”

“Did I stutter? I said come here!” He yelled as he flung his plate at her. Chicken and vegetables scattering all over the table and vodka sauce staining the carpet. She surveyed the damage and closed her eyes as she stood up slowly. She wondered what happened to the girl she used to be. The one that was strong. The one that vowed to die before ever allowing a man to humiliate her like this again. She braced herself for the beating that she knew was coming.

He sat in his seat silently fuming. Relishing the fact that he could reduce her to nothing in minutes. He liked to make her feel low. He liked to break her down. It made him feel strong and not so broken down. She represented his weaknesses and failures. He knew the only reason why he wanted her is so that no one else could have her.





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