When She Turns Her Back (Teresa and Charles) novel Chapter 28

Chapter 28

“Wendy, what the hell happened to your face?” Teresa’s voice cracked.

Wendy’s cheek was a mottled purple, her left eye swollen shut.

When she pulled off her cap, fresh bruises ringed her scalp like ugly bracelets–some patches were bald where hair had been ripped out.

Teresa’s stomach flipped. “George again?” Wendy only nodded, no tears left.

Disappointment had long passed its sell–by date, yet she still wouldn’t leave the devil’s side.

To linger by him and still keep her life–that alone was fortune enough.

Teresa grabbed her phone. “I’m calling the cops.”

Wendy caught her wrist. “Patch me up first.” Teresa sighed and gave in.

Just as she finished patching up Wendy’s face, and was about to take off her gloves, Wendy rolled up her sleeve.

The sight of mottled skin and dried blood made Teresa’s stomach turn.

“What kind of spell did he put on you? He’s beating you like a drum and you’re still here?”

Wendy gave a hollow laugh. “Eight years, Teresa. I keep telling myself he’ll wake up one day.”

Teresa pressed the cotton ball so hard Wendy flinched. “Which one matters? A man or your life?”

Wendy winced in pain but made no sound.

“I…I won’t let it happen again,” she murmured weakly.

Teresa’s anger flared. She tossed the tweezers into the curved tray with a clang. “Next time I see you, it’ll be in the morgue.”

“That won’t happen…” Wendy’s voice trailed off, lacking conviction.

“Jesus, Wendy,” Teresa snapped, frustration boiling over. “You really that need a man?”

Wendy kept her eyes downcast, unable to meet Teresa’s gaze. “If I leave George… no one else would want me…”

Teresa’s hands clenched in frustration. She remembered the same words from her own family.

Whatever. You can’t save someone hell–bent on destruction.

No matter how much Teresa lectured, Wendy’s stubborn nature wouldn’t listen. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way.

Resigned, Teresa silently continued dressing the wounds.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll talk to George about this,” Wendy offered timidly, clearly trying to placate her.

Teresa ignored the empty promise. “You know these injuries are enough for assault charges, right? Wendy fell silent.

Wendy’s phone buzzed–George’s name lit the screen like a slap. She flashed it at Teresa, eyes shining. “He still cares.”

Teresa kept her head down, responding with only “Min.”

I wasn’t that she did

carr, but she knew Wendy all too well

Words were useless. Some Ieasons worked more

On speaker, George’s voice was flat ‘Where are you?”

“In the hospital Wendy answered tears tunatly sputting

George didn’t skip a licat. “I want a nickel atau baled beef for bunch

Wendy biodh face already reaching for by pure shop and cook na

1:05 PM

Chapter 28

To Wendy, all of this was p

proof that George still wanted to make their marriage work.

Teresa’s hand froze mid–air. Same script, different actress.

She’d once thought a second baby would glue Charles to her–different man, same delusion.

God. Now to see, her past seemed utterly foolish.

After Wendy left, Teresa got three or four more patients.

Try as she might, she couldn’t shake her concern. Finally, she sent Wendy a text, “Remember to take your meds. Keep those wounds

clean.”

Not a single word about the relationship.

At noon Teresa ducked out for a quick bite, detoured past a bistro, and froze.

Through the glass she saw George feeding steak to a woman dressed like

a

Yeon

sign.

Instead of taking the bite, she first dragged her plush lips slowly across the meat. A deliberate tease lasted before finally closing her mouth around the fork.

Under the table, her foot was playing footsie with his ankle like it was a joystick.

George couldn’t resist the provocation. His hand shot out, seizing the woman’s slender ankle. With a gasp, she lurched forward across the table–her collar gaping open to reveal a flash of porcelain skin that burned itself into the retina.

They carried on shamelessly, not even bothering to draw the curtains–such brazen audacity.

But what made Teresa’s blood boil was George’s promise to return home for dinner.

That foolish girl Wendy was probably still waiting, dinner growing cold.

Teresa snapped a photo, hit dial. “Is he home yet?”

“No, he’s stuck at work,” Wendy said, voice hopeful.

Work, huh? This is the so–called work? Teresa pocketed the phone.

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