"Are you happy now?" he says hoarsely, running a trembling hand through the disheveled hair atop his head. "Huh?Are you?"
I say nothing, feeling the mess begin to soak through my skirt. I find myself thankful that my hair didn’t get in it, because I'd never be able to fix it after what he just did to me. This was the worst he’s hit me yet. My fingers twitch as I whimper, laying there trembling with my eyes pinned to his chest. Scared to make eye contact, scared to move, scared to breathe...forcing myself to be deathly still until his footsteps fade as he lets himself out the front door, leaving me alone once again.
I lay there for an hour, moaning, crying, and hiccuping until the worst of the pain subsides, and I'm able to sit myself up on shaky arms.
A chill moves over my body, making me shiver as an ice cold sweat covers my body. I sob, in pure disbelief at what just happened. Pulling up my blouse that had fallen off my shoulder, I limp slowly to the bathroom and strip, throwing my vomit stained clothes into the corner of the bathtub before turning the water on to soak them.
I go to the cleaning closet in the hall, not bothering to put any more clothes on. Whimpering and wincing with every reach to the upper shelf, I carefully pull down various cleaning supplies, and for the next hour I clean up the kitchen floor. Slowly, naked, and with tears pouring down my face as I pray.
No use, really, because I feel no comfort; however, Iamfeeling small cramps in my stomach once again. But I have to get this mess cleaned up. If I don’t, he for sure won’t. But the seconds tick by slowly like molasses until I'm shaking so hard that it takes three times as long to clean up the mess as it should have.
Fatigued and hurt beyond belief, I cry harder, placing my hands on my knees and willing myself to breathe through the pain.
I can't even describe how badly my back hurts as I move slowly to the bathroom to shower, this time not bothering with a plastic cap. I pull my hair into a sloppy, haphazard looking bun on the top of my head, and stand under the spray. Defeated, and worn down. Not even having the strength to soap up, merely letting the water rinse me off.
As I stand there, I try to not let my sanity go down the drain with the water.
Emotionally and physically spent, I dress in pajamas before curling up crying on the sofa. My phone is clutched in my hand, but I'm too scared to reach out to any of my friends. Not that I have many left. They all fell away because of Brandon, from being uncomfortable in his presence. I really only have Jerome and Chris. And if I alert the two of them to the severity of what's going on, I have no doubt they’d try to find Brandon and kill him. It’d make everything worse. Thankfully, I don't have any clients tomorrow and only have to deal with seeing Dr. Richardson. That’ll give me most of the day to rest.
Pulling up the blanket, I spend a couple hours trying to ignore the pain, and focus on breathing deeply. Completely exhausted, I shut my phone off, vowing to go to urgent care in the morning to get me and Bumpy checked out. I end up crying myself to sleep.
Wishing things could be different.
So much more different.
Chapter eight
I am doing nothing
Hannah [7:01a]: I don't even know why I married you. I could have done so much better, you asshole.
Hannah [7:06a]: You would really not help me when I'm coming to you damn near begging?! Do you want to see me on the street? Maybe you'd be happy then, you ice-cold prick!
Tyler [7:39a]: Dad, mom won’t stop calling me. Will you pleeaassee, please just give her the money so she can leave me alone? She's annoying me, and how can I even begin to study when my phone won't stop ringing? I thought you said my studies were important to you!
Hannah [7:45a]: Look at how you're acting. No wonder no one wanted your ass after I left you! You selfish prick.
Tyler [8:13a]: Dad.
Tyler [8:13a]: Do something!
Iamdoingsomething:nothing.
The texts come back to back. So, needing relief, I play my cello while irritated and trying to clear my head of my thoughts. Painful memories of the past meet the absolute hopelessness of the present and swirl in my head, accompanied by the sound of my phone pinging repeatedly. I studiously ignore it. I'd woken up to a slew of nasty texts from HannahandTyler, begging me to keep enabling her.
But I won't do it anymore.
I'm through.
Done with shouldering guilt I have no business bearing. Recognizing it was easy, but forgiving myself for settling for a lifeI knew I had no business living, with a woman I should never have entertained, is the hard part. I fight the feelings of wanting to give up. I want love. I know I'm capable of it, and I know there's someone out there for me. But, unlike with Hannah, who enticed me into ignoring every red flag she possessed, I'm going to make sure whoever I give a chance to that they're going to damn near deserve the world before I open up ever again. But am I ready?
I play steadily, with my phone pinging in the background.
Sleeping Beauty [8:58a]: Alexander, are you okay? Tyler called me. What's going on? Is there any way I can help?
At the sound of my twin sister's special ringtone, I stop playing and hurriedly snatch my phone up to call her, needing to hear her voice.
God, please don't be mean right now, sis. I don't think I can take your brand of wickedness right at this moment.I toss a prayer up that I'm greeted with a softer Aurora instead of the evil alter ego she sports ninety percent of the time.
