“I hate you.”
“You love me. What you need now is to ride that man’s dick until neither of you can walk for a week.”
I choked on my laughter and shushed her again.
“It’s true,” she argued before she pantomimed zipping her lips.
Laughing, we packed up my vibrator and practical underwear. She shook her head and muttered, “shameful,” at the lackluster state of my utilitarian bras and panties. I added my bathroom supplies since it would give me cover for why I needed to pack up things to carry them next door.
I didn’t bother to tape the carboard. I folded it shut by tucking the alternate flaps. Vanessa carried the first load of clothing while I held the box, and we made the first trek to my new room.
When we got back to my room, Jake was almost done putting my bed frame together. I was eager to sleep in my very own bed tonight.
“Good timing,” he said. “You can help me bring in the mattress.”
“Let me put this box in the bathroom, and I’ll help you.”
“I can take it,” he insisted.
He reached for the cardboard, and I tugged it back. It was too much for the box, which unfolded itself from the underside. Everything slid to the floor in slow motion. My boring bras and underwear, that bright pink vibrator, and all my toiletries spilled on the floor at my feet.
Guess I should have taped the bottom of the box.
Everyone froze. The three of us stared at one another in a horrified silence. Vanessa was the first to break, but once she choked on a laugh, I lost it.
“Why hasn’t the floor swallowed me up by now?” I wailed.
“It’s afraid of what else it might grab,” Vanessa snickered.
Jake’s ears turned red, but he shook his head with a grin. When he bent down to pick up my toothpaste, I shrieked at him.
“Out, out!” I cried. “Give me a few minutes to die of mortification, and then we’ll get the mattress.”
He left the room on a chuckle. Red-faced, I wiped away tears of both laughter and embarrassment. I turned to Vanessa.
“I have to move again, don’t I?”
“Don’t you dare. Now he won’t be able to think about anything but whether or not you’re using that vibrator. It’s perfect.”
A week passed, and we settled into a routine. I’m more relaxed and at home here. I only needed a few hours to unpack everything, and I spent the rest of the day reveling in my own space.
The longer I was away from Beau, the more I found myself. Daily, I rebuilt who I was and what I wanted from life, and I was going for it. For years, I only reacted to life. It was time to make things happen.
“Beating yourself up doesn’t change anything. Making changes is the only thing that does.”
First up was closing the book on Beau. I can’t undo the last few years and stop myself from doubling down on bad decisions and dumb mistakes, butI can regain some of my sense of self and hopefully some of the money he stole from me.
While I hired a lawyer because I was clueless about what to do, Shayla was the best choice I’d made in ages. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to run my credit report, so I might not have known for years about the card he opened in my name.
“You can’t let this go,” Shayla said. “It’s no longer a he said/she said situation. This is clearly identity theft.”
“I know,” I moaned.
“I can’t believe the nerve of this guy,” she fumed.
My lawyer identified all the steps to report him to the Sheriff’s office, contacted the utilities on my behalf, helped me with the paperwork to contest the charges with my credit card companies, and kept me from freaking out through the whole process.
Shayla organized everything to file against Beau to recover the money I paid him for the bills he didn’t pay. While she can’t represent me in small claims court, she’s preparing everything for the process. She’s thought of so many things that wouldn’t have occurred to me, so it’s been worth the money.
