After spending the early afternoon beneath a gazebo we'd set up on the beach building sand castles with Olivia and Bella, Anna dropped me off for my occupational therapy appointment, which was followed right after by a counseling session a few blocks away. I was to call Anna as soon as I was finished and she'd pick me up.

Though I'd objected to attending the counseling sessions, it was one of the concessions I'd agreed to do with Doug as part of my rehabilitation from Serena's attack - that I go through the sessions to deal with the trauma of what had happened to me.

I hadn't told anyone about my nightmares, thinking it was all part of whatever drugs I was on, a combination of painkillers and anti-inflammatories. But my nightmares had awoken Anna and Michael enough times to be a real concern. The dreams were always the same - Serena coming after me with a knife, though sometimes, she transformed into David, and then David would turn into Roy, my stepfather.

Anna told Erik about my nightmares, and Erik mentioned it at our last meeting with Doug. Counseling sessions would help me, they said afterward. And even if I didn't exactly agree with their suggestion, I should, at least, try it out a few times.

The psychologist's office was three blocks south of the OT office and a walk in the late afternoon would do me some good. It had been awhile since I'd done any running and though any jarring motion made my hand still ache and swell, walking posed no problem for it. It was still encased in a removable splint, one that I still had to wear all the time to make sure that my finger would remain flexed, and give the tendon time to heal completely.

After my occupational therapy session, I called Anna to let her know I was headed for my counselor's office and that I'd call her when I was done. The walk was a pleasant one, spanning only three blocks along Sepulveda and Jane McKenzie-Smith was friendly and understanding of my concerns. Though she seemed to just sit in her chair listening to me, it actually felt good to talk to someone who wasn't family, like Anna, or one's future husband, like Erik. The only request she made of me was to set my phone to silent, or turn it off altogether, so no calls would bother us during the session.

It was six-thirty when I emerged from the counseling session and made my way down the street towards home. I felt good, elated even as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It felt right to tell someone that I was scared of Serena, not knowing what to expect from her now that I had filed charges against her. But most of all, I needed to tell someone that I was even more scared of David, and what he'd do to me once he got served his papers. Because he would do something to me, I thought. I could feel it.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I wasn't even aware of what I was doing. By the time I reached my house in Hermosa Beach - the psychologist was only a mile away from me - I realized what I'd just done without thinking. It wasn't until I found myself standing inside my house that I realized I was in the in-between place between my past and my future, just as Anna said that morning.

I didn't even notice the car parked in the driveway, beneath the purple-flowered jacaranda, nor the fact that the front door had been unlocked when I entered.

"Hello, Sam," David said as I entered the dining room to deposit the mail on the table. I'd been so deep in my thoughts that his voice startled me, and I dropped my phone on the floor. But before I could pick it up, David got to it first.

"We need to talk, my love."

"If you're here to pick up Michael, I have him this weekend, remember?" I said, trying hard to remain calm and wondering how David managed to get into the house again. With all the appointments with Doug and my occupational therapy sessions, I hadn't had time to change the locks since David broke into the house and took the property documents.

"Honestly, I forgot," David said, shrugging and taking a sip from a can of beer, the rest of the six-pack sitting on the dining room table. Three empty cans stood on the table top. He crushed the can with his hand and set it down next to a thick stack of folded papers on the table. The summons, I thought, my throat tightening.

"But that's not why I'm here, Sam," he said, patting the summons with his hand. "We really need to talk."

"If you needed to talk to me, all you had to do was arrange a meeting with the attorney. I really should be going," I said as loudly and calmly as I could, mustering all the courage I could find. "I just came to get my mail, and Erik should be here to pick me up in a few minutes."

David chuckled. "You were always a terrible liar, babe. So, which one is it? Are you leaving now? Or is he picking you up? That second choice is impossible because you and I both know that he's not in town."

I shook my head. "That's not true. He is in town. He's on his way."

"Oh, c'mon, Sam. Do you expect me to believe you? Didn't you send him to New Mexico to spy on me? Why? Is it to look for skeletons in my closet - anything that you can use against me? As if you didn't have enough already?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, David," I said, trying to appear calm. "I don't even know anything about New Mexico."

"Stop lying, Sam. I was just trying to scare you when I took the house papers. You were smart to leave them with Rosie when she was alive, but stupid enough to keep them here when you could have put them in a safe deposit box," he said. "But I really only wanted Mikey's sketches. You see, no one can capture the look in my son's eyes the way you do. I gotta give you that."

"Alright, so you got the sketches," I said, feeling slightly relieved. Maybe this was going to turn out alright, after all, I told myself though even then I knew I was only fooling myself. "Then why are you still here, David? You already have the drawings. They're all yours."

"I would have left you alone if you hadn't pulled this stunt over in Albuquerque, sending your boy toys to spy on me and get the dirt on me," David replied and I could see his jaw tightening, the vein in his temple throbbing.

"Is that how you work, Sam? Because I'm sure that this New Mexico trip couldn't have been Erik's idea. He's too upstanding, too smart to do something like this."

In the next building, a party was just starting, their music blaring, vibrating through my walls. It made David turn his head towards the direction of the sound, and I took that as a chance to make my move. If not now, then I wouldn't have an opportunity to get away.

"I really need to go," I said, turning around and heading for the door. With David still holding my phone, I'd run to Java Man and ask to use their phone and call Anna, I thought, or if I had to run all the way to Erik's house, then I would do that, too. But David's long legs took him to the door first and he blocked my way, standing before it.

"I said - we need to talk. Can't you even afford me the courtesy of a simple conversation?" He snapped at me, and this time, something inside me made me rear up against him, like a cornered animal making one last move to pretend she wasn't as scared as she really was. We were back to the same old dance, the script replaying like it always did.

But this time, it was different. I had fought back with that restraining order, the charges filed against him.

"How can I afford you that, David, when you're not even supposed to be here? There's a restraining order against you and you've just violated-"

"I'm not afraid of that, Sam," he said, holding up my phone. "I can easily tell them you called me to come over. And being the good ex-husband that I am, I did."

My eyes grew wide as David began to press the buttons on my phone. No way was I going to allow him to do that to me. I charged at him, reaching for my phone with my good hand but David was quicker. He pushed me back against the door with one hand pressed against my chest, the force of his actions robbing me of breath. From his back jeans pocket, his phone began to ring.

"See? It's that easy," he chuckled, taking his phone and pressing Answer.

"It doesn't prove anything," I said as he tossed my phone towards the couch and I watched, helpless, as it clattered noisily to the floor.

"After I introduce your colorful past, Sam, I'm sure it will-"

"It won't do you any good," I said. "I'm not afraid of my past, David. Not anymore-"

"I'm sure you aren't, Sam, not when you've got Doctor Erik wrapped around your little finger," David chuckled. "Anyway, I'll sue for slander, for defamation of character with that stunt you pulled in Beverly Hills with your precious stolen paintings. But you know what? Even if I lose, charging you with that will give me enough cause to have your sealed records reopened - just for the heck of it. And what do you think your good doctor will do then? What will his supporters and financial backers think of him when they learn that his girl was once a criminal? What's he going to think of you when he starts losing support?"

But I wasn't concerned about my sealed records. "Slander? You're charging me for slander?" I snapped, pushing him away with my good hand. "How can it be slander when it was true? You stole from me, falsified records and when it was clear you couldn't pull the wool over my eyes anymore, you destroyed my paintings - and you broke my wrist."

For a brief moment, I thought I'd won. There was a flash of anger in David's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by the narrowing of his eyes. He was unfazed by my feeble attempt at standing up to him.

"Whatever, Sam," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Anyway, we need to talk about this thing you just did. This awful thing encouraged, I'm sure, by your boyfriend — oh my, look at that! How sweet," he stopped, bringing my hand up and pointing to Erik's ring.

"He's already proposed - and you said yes!"

I fought hard to remain strong, to not allow the fear to creep into my bones as I pulled my hand back. I'd had a good year so far, since he'd moved out and even after Rosie died for he mainly left me alone - as long as I didn't piss him off. But this time, the old David was back with a vengeance, angered by the summons he had received. There was no more need for masks.

"Do you really think a domestic violence lawsuit will make a difference, Sam? You can't even prove that I broke your hand. You fell and broke it without my help," he continued. "That's what the doctors wrote down in their medical files then, and that's what you're going to say when you drop the charges against me. I don't care what you tell them, but maybe that little criminal inside you somehow resurfaced and you had to find someone to blame for your own stupidity."

"I won't," I whispered. "You can't get away with just telling me how to live my life, steal my money and then expect me to pretend that it never happened, and then hurt me-"

He slammed his hand against the wall, just alongside my ear and I yelped, flinching. "Are we back to those accusations again, Sam? We were married, and I was your manager. Your agent. Remember that? Or have you conveniently forgotten? I made you who you are now, don't forget that. And I was entitled to that money because I worked hard to promote your work. Without me, you would never have gotten far-"

"I never got far!"

David's eyes narrowed even more, his eyes growing cold. Words failed me then, the fear returning. I pressed my injured hand, safe in its splint flat against my belly.

I did not know what to expect from David, what he would do next. He was blocking the way to the door and though in my mind, I'd long left the house and was safe from him, reality proved itself much too strong for even my hopes to overcome. This had always been the case when David was caught in his moods, when all he wanted was to have someone around to punish for something. I'd kept the facade for so long, that everything was alright between us, even to Rosie when she'd been alive. But now that I'd seen the flip side of it all - that there was life after David and the abuse I'd grown used to and that I was deserving of love without the abuse - it was impossible to maintain the lie.

"Don't worry, Sam. I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured as I looked up to look at him, frowning. "And do you know why?"

I shook my head. Already I was disengaging from myself like I always did when things got too much for me to handle, when I knew it was now beyond my control. I saw myself watching the whole thing from above us, my mind already bailing itself out.

"Because you're the mother of my son, that's why. I loved you, Sam, and no matter what you or that boy-toy of yours tells you, I made you the artist that you are today." He chuckled, this time tugging at my injured arm as I resisted him, a moan escaping my lips.

"Oh wait, but that's ancient history now, isn't it? That's because you can't paint anymore, not even if you tried. And without your painting hand, Sam, you're useless."

"I'm not useless," I said, gritting my teeth. "Don't you dare call me that."

He drew closer, running his finger along my cheek. "I can call you anything I want." His voice grew soft again. "Have things changed so much between us? Don't you remember how you used to wait for me by the door? I remember how you used to be so excited to see me, and so sad whenever I had to leave?"

"That was before I learned that you were stealing from me. Isn't that the same thing you did with Claudia-"

The slap across my face silenced me, taking me completely by surprise. The blow sent me against the window, the blinds clattering behind me. My face stung and stars exploded before my eyes. One thing about David - he had big, strong hands.

"Don't you ever say her name," David hissed. "Ever."

With my injured hand pressed against my belly, I couldn't support myself with just one hand holding on to the something - anything.

"How clumsy of you, baby. How could you have lost your balance so easily?" David said, walking towards me. Whenever he started with the beatings, he stopped calling me by my name. I was no longer Sam. I was Baby. "Here, let me help you up."

"Don't touch me," I whispered, moving away from him and making my way towards the bedroom. "I'm not dropping the charges-"

He hit me again and this time, I backed into the entertainment center, knocking down Michael's DVDs to the floor. I tasted blood in my mouth.

"Wouldn't it be terrible if you hurt that hand of yours again, trying to break your fall?" David asked, coming towards me again. "What did they call it then? Colles' fracture or something? Do you think it's possible for it to happen again? You are quite accident-prone after all."

In the years that I'd known David, I'd never seen him like this. I'd always been able to steel myself against his anger, prepare to accept the consequences for whatever I did to provoke him. But this one was beyond my control. It wasn't the charges I filed against him that set him off, at least not anymore. It had been my mention of Claudia Grande.

But I didn't wait to find out if my suspicions were right. As he came atme again, I kicked him in the groin, the way the pros told you to do on internet videos on safety. As David doubled in pain, calling me names, I scrambled towards the bedroom, yelling in pain as my splinted hand hit the floor when I slipped on one of Michael's DVDs. But despite the pain that shot through my hand and up my arm, I pulled myself up and ran.

I made it into the bedroom and shut the door as hard as I could, just as David slammed against it. The impact of his body against the door almost pushed me back, my heart in my throat. Not that anyone could hear me, I thought, the party next door was going full blast. It was a Friday after all.

The last time this had happened was almost two years ago, when after I had made that scene in Beverly Hills, he came home. We were still married then, and Rosie was still alive though there was nothing she could do to help me. Not wanting to leave a mark on me, he grabbed me and threw me to the ground. Then he stepped on my hand, crushing two to three bones — carpals — the doctor had said then. He'd done it as Michael, six months old, sat in his crib, though he was screaming as if he, too, knew what was happening, and was only responding to it.

But this time, Michael was not there, and I was grateful for it. I did not want him to see my fear, my shame, at the same thing happening all over again.

The loud beating of my heart drowned out the silence in the other room, and I stared at the door, not knowing if David would launch himself against it once more. But he didn't throw himself at the door or try the door knob. Instead, I heard him speak, his voice soft.

"Congratulations on your impending marriage, Sam," he said, breathing hard. "You deserve each other, you know. You and that doctor of yours. That he's willing to fly over to New Mexico to dig up my secrets and use it against me just so you can get full custody of Michael - you must be damn good in the sack, babe."

He kicked against the door, and I stifled a scream, my whole body trembling.

"God, why'd you have to send him to New Mexico, you bitch?"

"Go away," I whispered though my voice was barely a whisper I was sure he never heard me.

From the living room, I heard my phone ringing, but there was nothing I could do. What if it were David ringing me, hoping I'd be stupid enough to step out of the bedroom?

"Erik's going to be here soon," I said, repeating the words again and again, as if it were some mantra that would protect me. But even I couldn't get myself to believe what I was saying. Erik was in New Mexico, too far to be of help to me now. Besides, he'd caused all this, flying off without telling me the real reason why, not trusting me enough to tell me. What else was Erik keeping from me then if he couldn't tell me about his little trip? I had no idea what he would have found out, but David's reaction was enough proof for me to realize that whatever Erik found out, it wasn't good.

Outside my phone kept ringing, the tropical ring tone repeating its obnoxiously happy tone again and again. I heard the front door open, and then the sound of a car starting and driving away. I crawled to the window and slowly pushing the edge of the curtain aside with trembling hands, I peered outside.

David was gone.