He works with his dad as an electrician, and I’m still in college, studying to become a teacher. Needless to say, it’s not kids that I have a problem with. I just want to make sure we’re both in a position to raise our children the right way.
He knew that when I agreed to marry him. He seemed supportive of it at first. I told him very clearly that I wanted to wait until we were at least 30.
For the first 2 years, it seemed like everything was fine. I didn’t know just how agitated he was getting with my refusal to get off birth control. Every time he asked, it was like a stab to my heart.
We started arguing a bit. We’d bicker about little things like any other couple, but when it came to kids, it turned into full-blown screaming matches.
“I can take care of a baby.”
“You can still do school.”
“We’ll find a good daycare.”
It became clear that he just wasn’t seeing my vision. Part of me regretted getting married so abruptly. So young. Our brains hadn’t even fully developed yet.
But then again, we did get married for a reason.
We loved each other. We’d been friends since middle school. We got married after dating for 2 years. We were each other’s homes.
He just wasn’t so hell-bent on being a father back then. I don’t know what changed, but when it did, it was just downhill from there.
The arguments persisted, but so did I. So did we. I never wanted to turn my back on him. I just wanted us to make it through.
It seemed like all my prayers had been answered when the arguments just… stopped one day. I soon came to realize that that wasn’t exactly the blessing I thought that it was.
I remember he started going out more. Staying at work late. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and find that I was alone in our bed.
Of course, my already stressed brain jumped to the worst conclusion.
I didn’t want to distrust him, but he wasn’t making trust easy.
When he saw me, it was just all sunshine and rainbows, but when he was gone, it was like he was dead.
No texts, no calls, nothing. At first, I was happy for the space, but as it went on, I started getting more and more unnerved.
When he wasn’t out or at work, he spent a lot of his time in our shed. He’d spend hours out there. I’d see him carrying food out there.
It became strictly off-limits to me.
Any time he saw me even come close to the building, he’d stop me and guide me back into the house.
This is around the time I became convinced that he had lost his mind. He started talking about a daughter that I know we didn’t have.
“Roxxy is a little fussy today.”
“You keep working on your schoolwork. I’ll take care of our baby.”
“I need to go out and get some food for Roxxy.”
Any time he mentioned it, all I could do was laugh awkwardly and ask him what the hell he was talking about. Every time, his answer was nearly the exact same.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
He’d just smile and play it off like he wasn’t acting like a complete lunatic.
What scares me, though, is I’m starting to think maybe he’s not a lunatic.
I swear it’s like sometimes I can hear cries coming from the shed. Soft, weak little cries that are just audible enough for my guard to come up.
I found a pair of little pink socks in our dryer last week.
I always seem to find empty cans of baby formula hidden beneath the trash in our trash can.
When I really started grilling him about his behavior, the arguments came back. He’d scream at me. Call me horrible, awful names that I could’ve never imagined would’ve escaped his lips.
But the part that concerns me the most… is that he’s chained up the door to our shed.
He’s spray-painted over the windows.
He keeps the key with him at all times.
The crying has been getting louder and louder.
I don’t know if I’m too afraid to accept what’s happening, or if this is all just a nightmare that I can’t wake up from.
All I know is that now he doesn’t just talk about wanting a kid.
He tells me he wants another.
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