“But Ben is?—”
“A man, yes! But I didn’t have a choice with him. He is… actually, I’m not talking about this with you!” I shake my head. “Is that why you are here? Just to have the same argument we have every time we see each other?”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “No, I was actually nearby and I thought I’d drop by.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but why were you nearby?”
“I was in Boston,” he continues. “Visiting your mom.”
My nails scrape across my scalp, digging in until it’s almost painful. “Why?” I grit out.
“We’ve been talking, you know.”
“I don’t.”
He looks at his hands. “Right, well. We started talking again a while back.”
“As soon as I wasn’t in the way, you mean? I was always the problem in your marriage, wasn’t I?” My anger is reaching a boiling point, and it’s like watching a trainwreck—I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
“That’s an exaggeration, Colette. You always overreact.” He gives me a one-two punch with two of my favorite triggering phrases.
“Amazing,” I reply, sarcasm dripping off each syllable. “So happy that you and Mom are back together. Fuck, that’s what every divorced kid dreams of, isn’t it? You two can go ride off into the sunset. Please don’t invite me to the wedding.”
“So dramatic,” he sighs. And I see Ben’s favorite color—red.
“Get out.”
He continues to stay seated.
“Get out, Dad. I’m so fucking for real, I will call the police.”
I can tell he doesn’t think I’m serious because he moves at a glacial pace as he pushes back from the table and rises to his full height. It takes everything in me not to scream at him again, but I can see he’s resigned himself to leaving, he’s just going to test every shred of patience I have in the meantime.
When he finally gets to the door, he turns to me. Stupidly, I have the smallest shred of hope that he’ll apologize for all of the damage he’s caused. Instead, he says, “Call me when you come to your senses.”
The door shuts, and I beeline straight to the couch where I snatch a pillow and finally let out the scream I’ve been holding in.
Ben
Red, are you ok?
I would really like for you to answer so I stop worrying.
I don’t want to intrude again but I will if you don’t start answering my calls.
I’m trying to respect your wishes but I’m losing my mind over here.
On my way over.
I wake up to the sound of my apartment door opening. I can’t remember if I locked it after Dad left, and it would really suck if someone was coming to murder me right now. Snuggling under my blanket, I listen to see if I recognize the sound of the intruder’s footfalls as they walk further into the space.
The fact that Ernest doesn’t bark should be my first indication, but it’s not until I hear a familiar, “Red?” that I realize I’m not about to be brutally murdered in my apartment.
“Over here,” I call, poking my head out from under the blanket.
He throws his jacket over the back of the chaise and hurries around to where I’m lying on the couch. “Red, what the fuck? I’ve been trying to check on you for over an hour!”
I scrub the sleep out of my eyes. “Sorry, I must have passed out after my dad left. I was so drained after our conversation…” I look down and realize I didn’t even get my shoes off before I fell asleep. “What time is it?”
