Chapter 79 Confession
CAITLYN'S POV
Two days after Jason told me about his brother I knew it was time to tell him everything. Everything about my marriage to Collin. All the things I had been holding back.
We were making dinner together when I finally said it.
"I need to talk to you about something," I said.
"Okay," Jason said. He put down the knife he was using to chop vegetables and gave me his full attention.
"Remember when I said I had something to tell you?" I asked. "Something I have not told anyone?"
"Yeah," Jason said.
"I am ready to tell you now," I said. "But I need you to just listen. Do not interrupt. Do not try to fix anything. Just listen."
"I can do that," Jason said.
We sat down at the table and I took a deep breath. This was going to be hard. Harder than anything I had done in a long time.
"When I married Collin I thought he was a good man," I started. "He was charming and successful and he seemed to really care about my dad. About me. I thought I was lucky."
Jason nodded but did not say anything.
"But that changed after we got married," I continued. "He started getting controlling. Telling me what to wear. Who could I talk to? Where could I go? At first, I thought he was just being protective. But then it got worse."
My hands were shaking. I put them in my lap so Jason would not see.
"The first time he hit me was three months after the wedding," I said. "We were at a party and I was talking to one of his business partners. Just normal conversation. But Collin thought I was flirting. When we got home he grabbed my arm so hard he left bruises. Then he slapped me."
I looked at Jason. His jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists, but he did not say anything.
"He apologized after," I said. "He told me he loved me. That he just got jealous. That it would never happen again. And I believed him, I thought it was a one-time thing."
"But it was not," Jason said quietly.
"No," I said. "It was not. The second time was a month later. I forgot to tell him about a phone call from his lawyer. He got so angry and pushed me into a wall. Hit me in the stomach, then locked me in the bedroom for two days."
Tears were starting to fall but I kept going. I needed to get this out. Needed to tell someone what my life had been like.
"After that it became regular," I said. "At least once a week he would find a reason to hit me. I said something wrong. I looked at someone the wrong way. I did not smile enough at a dinner party. There was always a reason."
"Caitlyn," Jason started but I held up my hand.
"Please let me finish," I said. "I need to get this all out."
"Okay," Jason said.
"The worst time was about six months ago," I said. "I tried to leave. I packed a bag and called a cab. But Collin found out. He came home and stopped me. He beat me so badly that I could not walk for three days, and he broke two of my ribs. Gave me a black eye. Then he told me if I ever tried to leave again he would kill me."
I was crying hard now. Could not stop the tears.
"After that, I gave up," I said. "I stopped trying to leave. Stopped fighting back. Just tried to survive, to not make him angry and to be the perfect wife so he would not hurt me."
"But he still hurt you," Jason said.
"Yeah," I said. "He still hurt me. Because it was never about what I did or did not do. It was about control and making sure I knew he owned me."
"You were never his," Jason said. "You were never anyone's property."
"I know that now," I said. "But back then I believed him. I thought I deserved it. That I was the problem. That if I just tried harder he would stop."
"None of that was your fault," Jason said. "None of it."
"I know," I said. "But it is hard to believe that sometimes. Hard to not blame myself for staying. For not fighting back harder. For not leaving sooner."
"You did what you had to do to survive," Jason said. "There is no shame in that."
I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. "There is more. Things I have not told anyone. Not even Rourke."
"What things?" Jason asked gently.
"The cameras," I said. "Collin had cameras everywhere in the house. In every room except the bathrooms. He watched me all the time. Even when he was not home. I could not do anything without him knowing."
"That is sick," Jason said.
"And the rules," I continued. "He had so many rules. I had to be in bed by ten. Had to ask permission to leave the house. Had to give him my phone every night so he could check my messages. Had to eat dinner with him every night even if I was not hungry."
"He was a controlling monster," Jason said.
"He was," I agreed. "And the thing is I almost got used to it. Almost forgot what it was like to be a normal person. To make my own choices. To have freedom."
"But you never forgot completely," Jason said. "Because you reached out to Rourke. You started gathering evidence. You fought back in your own way."
"I did," I said. "But I was so scared the whole time. Scared he would find out. Scared he would kill me. Scared I would never get away."
"But you did get away," Jason said. "You are here now. Safe. Free."
"Am I though?" I asked. "Am I really free? Because I still think about him all the time. Still have nightmares. Still jump at every sound. That does not feel like freedom."
"Freedom is not just physical," Jason said. "It is mental too. And that takes time. You have only been away from him for a few months. You need to give yourself time to heal."
"What if I never heal?" I asked. "What if I am broken forever?"
"You are not broken," Jason said firmly. "You are hurt. There is a difference. Broken things cannot be fixed. But hurt things can heal."
"I want to believe that," I said.
"Then believe it," Jason said. "Because it is true."
I stood up and Jason stood up too. He came around the table and pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his chest and cried.
"I hate him," I said. "I hate him so much."
"I know," Jason said. "I hate him too."
"He took everything from me," I said. "My freedom. My father. My sense of safety. Everything."
"But he did not take you," Jason said. "You are still here. Still fighting. Still surviving. That is what matters."
"I do not feel like a fighter," I said. "I feel like a victim."
"You are a survivor," Jason said. "There is a difference. Victims give up. Survivors keep going. And you kept going even when it would have been easier to give up."
"It did not feel like I had a choice," I said.
"You always had a choice," Jason said. "You could have given up. Could have let him destroy you completely. But
You did not. You fought back in the only way you could. And now you are free."
"I want to believe that," I said.