After a few short months, Dexter and Chelsea’s marriage became rocky. He was withholding money from her, not paying his ex-wife her child support, not helping Chelsea with the mortgage, and he could barely hold a job. She had started a new job an hour away from where they lived and was commuting, taking care of Dexter’s children and Carter, traveling, paying all the bills, making car payments for them both, and running Dexter’s event-planning business together.
“I’m ready to crack. I swear Dexter is the laziest guy on the planet and not to mention irresponsible. I’m paying his child support, and then I’m doing all I can to get our event planning business up and running. Seriously, he’s all talk and no action,” she hissed out loud to herself while driving.
Finally, she got home after a twelve-hour day and said, “Dexter. I have that call with Warren in thirty minutes to go over the event in Sun Valley. What did we decide? Is it going to be a free event for us if we get advertising out of it?”
Dexter was oblivious to Chelsea walking into the house and sat on his phone.
“Okay, I’ll be on the call in thirty minutes then,” she emphasized as she ran upstairs to go and change out of the dress she wore to work.
The call had started, and Dexter was present on the call. Warren was a successful New York producer and was a pleasant man. Chelsea believed that Warren had money, but his money was held up in the event he wanted to host.
“I’m confident the event will have enough visibility. Don’t you agree, Dexter?” she asked.
Dexter succinctly agreed with her assessment, and then the planning for Chelsea began.
She worked on decorations, fliers, and the event logistics with Warren. Dexter had finally got another coaching job near to where Chelsea worked, and, on the drive home, they talked about the two upcoming events. The first event, they both were exclusive guest speakers, and the second event was Warren’s event.
“What the fuck, Chelsea. Why are you not charging for Warren’s event?” Dexter snarled at her through his bloodshot eyes.
His personality turns with the blink of an eye. It’s like he’s possessed by demons or something. I hate that look. Tabby and Mace’s dad used to have that look.
“Dexter, we talked about this. So, I’m not sure what you mean. That was the plan, and you were on the phone when we discussed it,” she said, clearly confused by the change in demeanor and the hostile look and behavior.
“It’s my company, and I want you to charge for the event!” Dexter yelled at Chelsea while she continued to drive. She was looking straight ahead to avoid looking into his evil eyes.
“I’m not going to do that. I’m not changing what we discussed. That event is months away. It is in Sun Valley. The venue and everything are already in the works. We aren’t losing money, but we aren’t making any either, and it is our company,” Chelsea stated as a matter of fact.
Seriously, your company? I filed the business paperwork, seven years of taxes, paid fines, paid all the bills, your child support, paid off creditors, and it’s your company? Whatever, crack head!
She felt her blood boil.
“It was my company that I brought you in to manage,” Dexter continued, raising his voice.
Chelsea gave him a challenging look. “You know, it’s your company when you want something, but at all other times, it’s mine. I’m the COO, and I need to do it all. The company you have had for eight years has tripled in revenue since I came along, and it has my money invested in it. Not to mention all the legal documents are listed in both our names. Warren’s name, contact, and the event were organized by me for the company.”
They arrived home, and Chelsea went in and called for Chinese take-out.
“I’ll be back. I’ll go and get food. I don’t have the time or desire to cook tonight,” she said, calmly avoiding eye contact with Dexter.
After picking up the Chinese food, Chelsea walked back into the house and saw Dexter with a massive glass of alcohol. His eyes were red, and his body language was ready to fight, with his fists clenched.
He immediately started yelling at her as she put the food on the counter. “It will not be free, Chelsea. You will call now and change it,” Dexter snarled, with spit coming out of his mouth and veins popping from his neck.
“I’ll remove your name and the company name from the event. I’m not going back on my word,” Chelsea said calmly.
Dexter flipped into a rage. His emerald green eyes seemed to darken and burn as he started to punch everything in sight. He threw his glass, which almost hit her in the head. He picked up the Chinese food from the counter and tossed it across the room. He started bashing in cabinets and walls with his fist.
She ran upstairs to get her phone to call her mom. All she could think of was, what if Carter came home now? Her mom had moved down the street, and if she saw Chelsea’s car, then she might start walking over with Carter.
Chelsea ran into the closet and dialed her mom. “Mom, I’m not doing well. I feel really sick. Can you keep Carter?”
“Of course. Feel better. I love you,” her mom gushed.
Dexter started screaming for Chelsea. She came out of the closet with caution.
“What the fuck are you doing in there?” Dexter snarled.
“I called my mom to keep Carter,” Chelsea stuttered as she started to walk swiftly.
“Give me the keys to the car,” Dexter demanded.
Chelsea knew that the children were out playing outside, and she was scared of him running one of them over.
“No, Dexter. You’ve been drinking. You need to calm down. Children are playing outside,” Chelsea said calmly. Dexter looked her in the eyes and punched a picture of himself on the wall, barely missing Chelsea’s face. He hit the framed print so hard that his fist went into the wall, sheetrock flying with the glass. The glass cut his fist, spraying blood everywhere. Chelsea looked down to see shattered glass leaving scratches and cuts all over her body.
He snarled in rage. “You either give me the keys, or I’ll jump through the glass door and break it too.”
The house now had blood, glass, Chinese food, a bashed-in door, custom cabinets shattered, and more. Chelsea looked around. It looks like a murder scene.
Dexter grabbed Chelsea’s arm to pry the keys out of her hand. She let her grip go. Her face closed in a painful grimace as her skin went pale and clammy. She stifled a scream as more tears streamed down her face, wondering if he had shattered her hand and wrist.
She looked down to see that fingerprints were dented into her arm, and bruises were already appearing. She couldn’t breathe—it felt as if Dexter was choking her with just his presence. Her heart was racing. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and have someone save her from her own life.
But no one was going to save her from Dexter. Dexter couldn’t save himself from Dexter.
A choked cry forced itself up her throat as she heard the car peel away. She collapsed to the ground.
It was a couple of hours later, and her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello,” she sobbed.
“Is this Chels?” The man asked in a whisper.
“Um, yes. Can I help you?” Chelsea asked, puzzled about why someone was whispering and calling her late at night.
“Thank God. This is Rod, Dexter’s best friend. He came here to stay, but when I saw him, I immediately thought maybe he’d murdered you. He was covered in blood—like an obscene amount of blood. Are you okay?” Rod asked.
Chelsea sobbed. “Not really. Our house looks like a murder scene. It was like he was possessed by a demon. He bashed anything in sight. How am I supposed to help at an event tomorrow with him? We’re both speaking there. I’m sick and shook up.”
Rod consoled her, “I put Dexter in his place. I think you still need to attend the event and drive with him. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
After almost half an hour of talking, Chelsea hung up the phone, explaining how much cleaning she needed to do before her son came home.
It took the entire night for Chelsea to clean the house. She replaced the basement doors with the ones from upstairs. She didn’t want anyone to notice that there was a fist through them. Chelsea would have to call and get the cabinet replaced. Next to the cabinet, the home looked almost back to normal, with new pictures hung over fist holes that were fixed with putty and drying.
Her mom came over shortly after the house was cleaned up to get clothes for Carter and said, “I completely ran out of clothes for him, so I figured I would pop by and get some more.”
Chelsea smiled, and her mom looked at the broken cabinet behind Chelsea. “What on earth happened to the cabinet?”
“It came loose and fell. I can take Carter to school. Thank you for watching him,” Chelsea stated, knowing that her mom knew that was not the truth. Chelsea could never lie, but, at that moment, she didn’t want her mom to know. She didn’t even want to know.
Chelsea took Carter to school, and then she came home to begin getting ready for the event. She still had things to do for the event, and she was going off of no sleep, but her hair appointment was soon, which meant rest was not going to happen. Who am I kidding? I couldn’t sleep anyways with my anxiety and shock.
Once Chelsea was ready for the event, she drove to Rod’s house to get Dexter. She nervously went to the door and knocked.
Dexter opened the door and gushed, “Chels, you look absolutely stunning. Come in and have a glass of wine, and I’ll get my shoes on.” Dexter leaned in, kissed her, and gave her a hug. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Chelsea sat there in shock. Dexter was acting as if nothing had happened. She examined herself, her bruised hand, and she felt her body swollen and full of cuts. Her eyes were dark and puffy. She was still shaking, unable to eat.
Is this the twilight zone? He’s either bipolar, or there’s something terribly wrong with him.