I eventually picked up his call and we started speaking again. I even apologized for getting distant and chalked it up to being overwhelmed with the idea of a new relationship. When I met up with him in person again, he seemed much nicer. I thought that maybe I was wrong about him.
I was busy with school and he was with work and on the weekends, I continued with my weekly trips to the country with Tamla. He was starting to get annoyed with me going, wanting to know why I had to go every single weekend. He was evasive and never gave a straight answer about anything. He had lied about his relationship status, about being a father, and GOD knows what else. He acted as if he was in the CIA; he was always extremely secretive. Although my mom (and my own gut instinct) told me he was trouble and to stay away from him, I ignored the warnings and continued seeing him.
One night, Tamla and I went to stay at a friend’s hotel and as soon as I got back to his place, he was there to meet me at the door, which meant he saw me being dropped off by my male friend and his brother.
As soon as I got into his house, he slapped me across my face. I was stupid enough to blame myself. It turns out that he had bought me a brand new Jeep and held it as ransom—if I behaved, then I’d get to keep it, and if I didn’t, then he’d “teach me a lesson” instead.
That slap was not the first or last time he would hit me. If I didn’t want to have sex with him or cook and clean for him, he would slap me. He threatened that I could not report him, because he knew the cops and nothing would come of it. Each time he abused me, he would cry and apologize and say, “If you had listened, that would not have happened,” or, “Why did you make me do that?”
I knew I was stuck in an abusive relationship, but I just felt so powerless and stupid. He was always sorry and he always made it up to me with gifts and expensive trips.
My mom saw the bruises and told me that if I didn’t leave him, she was going to confront him and report him. I slowly got braver. I moved homes and started to avoid him. I would find him trailing me to my new place and I could see him walking around my home trying to peer through windows.
One night, he showed up crying that his friend had died because his girlfriend had left him. He said they had all gone out to have dinner a couple days ago and that he had not heard from his friend. He said he tried calling and that he just wasn’t answering, and when he showed up at the house, they found his lifeless body sitting in front of the TV.
He went on to say he didn’t want to die on his own and I should come back to him. When I refused, he touched his waist and I ran back inside the house. He was a licensed firearm holder and it would not have been the first time he pulled his gun on me, but this time, I felt like he might have actually pulled the trigger.
Had my girlfriend not been home with me that night, there’s a very good chance he would have killed me. And the fact that she could identify him made him back off a little. I finally got rid of him for good by moving out of the city.