Chocolate Covered Cherry Kisses Read online

  International Bestselling Author

  Olivia Marie

  Copyright © 2020 by Crazy Ink

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout © Crazy Ink

  Dedication:

  To my family for going with me on this journey. I couldn’t do it without you. Especially my husband who never says a word about the crazy hours I keep getting the words out.

  To Erin Lee who has become a great friend and mentor. None of this would be here without you. Thank you for all that you do.

  To the ones who find the strength to live again.

  PROLOGUE

  When you have nothing else to live for, do you go for your only shot at freedom? Or do you let him slowly continue to kill you?

  The choice I had to make wasn’t an easy one and I wasn’t sure if it was even the right one. All I knew was that it was the only choice, and if I had to do it all again, the only thing I would have changed was waiting so long.

  Jeremy was my world, but that quickly began to crumble. If I didn’t get out from under it, I would be buried in the rubble.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Jesus Christ, Cherry,” my husband yelled from the other room.

  I didn’t have to look. I knew what he was yelling about. I headed to the fridge, grabbed him another beer, and brought it to him. I was willingly handing him what turned him into the monster I no longer knew.

  Sighing, I squared up my shoulders and walked the few feet to where Jeremy sat in his chair with a news channel blaring in the background. The talk about politics always made him angry, but he insisted on watching it every night. He hadn’t even changed out of his suit from work. The tie was loose, the jacket gone, but he still held the air of authority.

  “Bout time. When is dinner?”

  “Soon. About five minutes.”

  “Should have been done already,” he grumbled.

  He wasn’t wrong, it should have been done already. It was hard to get the timing right about when he expected his dinner to reach the table when I never knew when he would show up.

  I didn’t answer him or acknowledge I heard his remark. Turning abruptly, I made my way back to the kitchen to finish his meal. I hoped for a good night, but it wasn’t starting off that way.

  “Come on,” I heard him scream at the TV.

  The sound of his voice made me jump, and the small bowl of peas I was carrying to the table now lay scattered on the floor. I scrambled to pick them up and finish getting the food to the small two-person oak table we used when we didn’t have company. Taking the broom and dustpan from the pantry, I ran to the mess on the floor and started to scoop it into the small container.

  “What the fuck did you do?” he asked, standing in the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room.

  “It spilled. I’m sorry. It is almost cleaned up and your dinner is done.” I refused to look up. I didn’t want to give him any reason to start another fight with me.

  “So, my food is getting cold because you are a clumsy piece of shit? Leave that until after dinner. God, do I have to tell you everything? Grow a brain, Cherry.”

  His words cut deep into my skull and roamed around my brain bouncing from side to side. Each pass, they hurt a little worse than before. With each jab he took, I felt another piece of me die.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted the house to be clean for you. I will get your food now.”

  I wiped my hands off on my jeans and ran back to the stove. Scooping up the pork chops, mashed potatoes, and the dinner rolls, I finally made it to the table. He sat there and watched my every move with the sour expression I was now used to seeing plastered on his face.

  I got his plate ready before getting him another beer. The last thing I wanted to do was eat after that, but if I didn’t he would make another scene about having to eat alone and how it wasn’t right for a married man to have to do so.

  I put a small amount on my plate and choked down every bite I took. I looked across the table at the man I married and tried to remember a time when he was happy and we didn’t fight. It was getting harder and harder to remember.

  I wanted the man back that dated me. The one who loved me and didn’t use me for his punching bag when he had a bad day.

  I wasn’t the same person either. I was no longer confident or unafraid to make a move in my own house. He had broken me down to almost nothing and I let him.

  It wasn’t all on him as much as I wished it was. I allowed him to knock me into the ground. I let his words spin circles in my head, and I let him put his hands on me. I was the weak one he said I was, and I didn’t know how to change it.

  “What is wrong with you now?” he barked.

  I dropped my fork at the harsh tone of his voice and used my napkin to clean it up before I answered him.

  “Nothing,” I meekly said. I held my breath hoping he would drop whatever mission he was on.

  “Pull it together and wipe your eyes. Don’t know what you are crying about. It wasn’t your meal that was cold or you that spent all day getting reamed out by a boss. You have it so easy, you know that. Right?”

  I reached up with my fingers and touched the wet spot under my eyes. I hadn’t realized I started crying, but I quickly stopped. It was one thing he hated: a soft woman, and crying showed weakness.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That is all I’ve heard from you tonight. I can’t do this with you all the time. Figure it out, get over it, and stop playing the ‘poor me’ card you think you have in your pocket.”

  “You’re right, Jeremy. I will stop.”

  “Good girl.”

  He shoveled another big bite of chop and potatoes into his mouth and I picked up a single pea. Knowing I still had dessert to fix his mood, I hurried to get the table cleared when he was done.

  “I made you an apple pie for dessert. I know it’s your favorite and I know your boss has been on your case lately.”

  “See? Now that is the thing that makes me love you. You know when to pull out the little extras. Good job.”

  I smiled at him and tried to make his compliment not sound like an insult to my ears.

  I watched his reaction as I cut the pie to see how much he wanted. When he smiled, I knew I had done alright. I plopped a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and watched his eyes light up as it melted over the still warm crust.

  “Perfect, baby. Perfect.”

  He seemed to let whatever was pissing him off go and was now beginning to relax. I wanted to let my guard down too, but I knew better. He could flip his switch again in seconds and for no reason. The small moment of happiness he had wasn’t guaranteed to last. I would have to put in the work to make him stay happy the rest of the night.

  I wasn’t going to let that moment get away from me. I jumped back up from my chair and grabbed him another beer. His smile told me I was out of the doghouse for now.

  When he reached across the small table, I flinched. I didn’t mean to; it was habit. The frown I was waiting to see wasn’t there. Instead, he smiled bigger at me as his thumb caressed my lips.

  “I think we need to go finish this night right. What do you say? It’s been a while and I miss the way you feel on me.”

  I wasn’t in the mood, but I knew better than to turn him d
own.

  “I would love that,” I lied. “Let me clean up quick and I will be up.”

  “Leave it for now. Come on. I want you.”

  I stood up and let him lead me up the stairs and to our room. He lay me down gently and made love to me for the first time in months.

  I fell asleep in his arms after, and all the bad things from earlier didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  CHAPTER TWO

  He was gone when I woke up the next morning. I never made it back down to clean up after dinner and I was sure I was going to hear about it.

  I headed to the bathroom and saw his boxers from last night laying in a pile by the tub. His suit shirt and tie were draped over the hook on the back of the door. I washed my face before cleaning up his clothes.

  I put on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I knew I had a mess waiting for me and I didn’t want to get the clothes I picked out for when Jeremy came home dirty.

  When I came around the corner to the kitchen, I wasn’t close to prepared for what I saw. All the dishes were empty, and food lay on the floor from one end to the next. His last beer bottle was shattered under my chair and the pie I made him was tossed across the back of the sink.

  The note held to the fridge by a magnet of us at the Grand Canyon caught my eye. I carefully made my way over, not stepping on anything, and took it down.

  Cherry

  I can’t believe you thought it would be alright to leave all the food out like you did. It’s great to see you don’t care at all that I work hard to give you the food you make. Make sure it is cleaned up before I get home and if you ever do it again, I will make sure you don’t eat for a week. I am sick of how lazy and wasteful you are. Fix it or I will fix it for you.

  I sat on the floor in front of the fridge and cried. I did everything for him, and I screwed it up again. I knew I should have gotten up and come back down to clean when he fell asleep. He had me wrapped so tight in his arms though and I needed that. It felt so good to feel wanted.

  Looking around the room at all I had to do, I crumpled the note, threw it in the trash, and headed for the closet. I needed to get the broken glass picked up before I did anything else.

  It took hours to get all the food out of the small places it landed in. Scrubbing the dishes was exhausting too. All the food stuck to it like someone had super glued it to the china. My arms burned by the time the last plate was dried and put away.

  I was dripping with sweat and so far behind on all I had to get done before he came home. I prayed it would be one of the days he was late and not early. Who knew what my punishment would be if he came home early after the mood he left the house in and things weren’t perfect? I would have to be on my best behavior for him that night if I wanted to avoid his rage.

  The last fight flashed back, and I shuddered.

  “You are the biggest loser I have ever met. I can’t believe I picked you over the others. I thought you were special, but you aren’t. You are worse than the hookers I slept with. At least they knew their place. What is your excuse?”

  “I don’t kno—”

  Smack.

  His hand landed hard across my face and I lost all sight in my left eye.

  “I hate you.”

  The words he threw at me as he walked out that night hurt worse than the bruising that was spreading across the whole left side of my face. I had dreams, nightmares, still about that day. It was the first time he let his monster surface with me, and it terrified me. The man I loved wouldn’t have acted like that and yet, I knew it was him that stood hovered over me with the distorted, ugly face. He did a great job hiding the anger from me the whole time we dated and into our first year of marriage.

  I was fooled by the charming man with the chocolate eyes and the fire red hair. The way he talked to me and how he made me feel like the only one in the world was what swept me off my feet. I would never forget the day we met. It was Valentine’s Day and since I was alone, again, I decided to buy myself a box of chocolates. I reached for the chocolate covered cherries and my hand brushed his. The spark that came off of him snapped my head up. It was almost instantaneously that I fell.

  If I would have slowed down with him and not rushed, maybe I would have seen the signs. Instead, I made the excuses and told myself it was all fine.

  We started to date that night and never looked back. Four months into it, he asked me to marry him. On February 14, one year after we met, we said ‘I do.’ The first year was busy buying our first house, him landing his dream job, and us trying to begin our family. It was perfect; he was perfect.

  Until he wasn’t.

  After the first out lash, it became closer in frequency on when they happened. The intensity didn’t increase for a long time but the day it did, he landed me in the hospital. I had a broken arm and two fractured ribs. Because he kept the marks off my face, the story I fell on the icy sidewalk wasn’t scoffed at too much. When it stepped up, he began taking me to different hospitals in different towns so they wouldn’t catch on.

  Sometimes, I prayed they would figure it out and help me to escape my living hell. My prison didn’t use bars to hold me in; it used fear, and I was terrified of him. I never knew who was walking in the door at the end of the day. Not that it mattered much. He could flip moods in seconds without warning. I could have done something months ago that he already punished me for, but if the right thought filled his mind, he would make me pay for it again.

  Even when he was at work I wasn’t at peace. I wasn’t allowed to answer the phone or the door. The mailman would have to be on the next block before I was allowed to go out and get it because he was worried I would flirt with him. He was in his sixties and married. I wouldn’t have looked twice at him other than to say hello anyway.

  He was the same with me being out of the house. He yelled about having to do errands every weekend, but he wouldn’t let me shop for food without him. The one time I thought I would and surprise him for his birthday, he sold my car so I couldn’t leave without him.

  My parents stopped talking to me two years into the marriage because I always had a reason why I couldn’t come see them or talk to them on the phone. I only had so many lies in me to give them. When my mom called one day when Jeremy was home from work and he answered, her questions about why I wasn’t allowed to come home sent him into a rage like I had never seen before. He screamed at her, my dad, and me. When the phone slammed down, I knew I was in trouble. That was the first time he broke my nose and the last time my parents called.

  I missed them and would have given anything to see them again. If I tried, it would have come back on them, and Jeremy had threatened to kill them before. I had zero doubt he wouldn’t follow through with it. I wouldn’t let them suffer because I made a bad choice in my marriage. I could at least protect them even if I couldn’t protect myself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was a rare day when I had everything cleaned up and dinner started ahead of schedule. I shouldn’t have, but I sat down and turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels, I landed on the murder documentaries.

  Watching for a few minutes, I was able to gather that the wife was slowly poisoning her husband even though he was lying in a hospital bed. I was so into it that I almost didn’t hear Jeremy pull into the garage. Clicking it off, I ran to the kitchen to finish up with his meal. The whole time, all I could think about was did she get away with it and why did she do it? I wondered if her husband was like mine and if she’d had enough of it.

  “Hey, you,” he said coming up behind me and landing a kiss on my neck.

  I shuddered at his touch but tried desperately not to let him see that. He smacked me on the ass before going to the fridge himself and grabbing a beer.

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  “I am. It was a good day.”

  “Oh yeah? What happened?” I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to go back to my show. I was obsessed with it then and needed to know the outcome.

  “I got the pr
omotion.”

  “Promotion?” I tried so hard to remember if he told me, but nothing was coming to me.

  “Yes. The one I told you about a few months back. It will be good for us. More money, but I will have to do some traveling. I know we aren’t used to that and I am not thrilled about leaving you home alone, but I think I can trust you. Not like I won’t have people checking in on you.”

  “But if you’re gone, how will I get the chores done?”

  “The same way you do now,” he barked, and his brow crumpled.

  “I mean the shopping. You sold my car. How will I shop if you are gone?”

  “Wow. I tell you this great news and all you care about is what will happen to you.”

  He slammed his beer on the counter and I waited for it to shatter.

  “That isn’t what I meant. I’m sorry. Forget it.”

  “No. I think you did mean it. Do you have someone else and you want my permission to go see them when I am gone? You don’t even care I won’t see you for days, maybe even weeks sometimes, do you? You are an ungrateful bitch, you know.”

  “No. I do care, Jeremy. That isn’t what I meant. We can do the shopping before you go, and I won’t need a car then. Please.” I put my hand on his forearm and he briskly looked from it to my face and back before he jerked away.

  “So now I have to add that to all the other things I need to do for you. Fine. If that is what will make you happy, add it on.”

  He walked away and went upstairs to shower. When I heard the water kick on I collapsed to the floor and cried. I was so sick of trying to make him happy and failing at every turn. I would never be good enough for him and I needed to learn that.

  Drying my eyes, I went back to getting the food on the table and waiting for him to come back down and finish the fight I unknowingly started. It was another five minutes until he showed up again and I was shaking with worry the food would be cold.