7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Six months later
Maria
“ I think this is all of it,” Dad says, his arms straining and sweat rolling down his temples as he carries in the last box from his car.
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply. “How are you feeling?” I ask as I rest my hand gently on his forearm.
He gives me a small smile as he squeezes my shoulder. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just knowing you are safe is enough.” I can’t look at him or I’ll burst into tears, so instead, I scan my old bedroom, trying to figure out how to put my life back together again. Boxes are everywhere, clothes on hangers rest on my bed, and garbage bags full of what, I don’t know, rest at my feet.
My mom walks in, holding out a glass of water for both my dad and me. I happily take it. “Do you need help getting anything unpacked?” she asks, looking around the room as I gulp down the cold water. I hold up a finger as a signal to give me a second. The water feels so refreshing after packing my stuff up from the apartment Chad rented for me and then hauling it up the stairs to my room. Sweat beads on my brow. My arms and legs feel like Jell-O, yet I have never felt better in my whole life.
“Ah!” I exclaim as I sit the glass down on my dresser. “No. I’m good, guys.” I zero in on a box and open it. We had no time to label anything, so I have no clue what’s inside. For the first time in a long time, my parents have been there for me. But honestly, I need to do this alone.
Earlier today, Chad and I broke up. And it wasn’t pretty.
Our relationship was never a relationship. Granted, he thought it was. Once I broke up with Sam, Chad was sweet and kind to me. He would shower me with gifts, he would take me to expensive restaurants, he gave me a beautiful apartment to live in. But also, in exchange for these things, I was at his mercy. He controlled my life. And he knew it. Slowly, he alienated me from my parents.
These last six months have been an endless cycle of misery, and I’ve despised every single second of it. I did it for my parents, despite my suffering.
Do I regret it?
That’s a hard one to answer.
My biggest regret, the one thing that will forever haunt me, is the pain I caused Sam. I’m sure I shattered him. The overwhelming feelings of loneliness and sorrow that consumed me during my time with Chad were deserved.
However, the money Chad paid me helped tremendously in getting my parents somewhat back on their feet. Paying for my schooling was the last thing on my mind. All I wanted was to help Mom and Dad.
In time, my mom graduated from nursing school and got a job at the hospital, where she worked as a janitor. After that, I knew the time had come to leave Chad, but I needed to formulate a plan to make that happen. He would not let me go easily.
Unfortunately, I didn’t come up with a plan because Chad spotted Sam’s watch resting on my wrist last week. I was stupid enough to keep it on one day. I always tucked it away in an old pair of shoes, hidden at the back of the closest. But Sam must have been on my mind (as he always is), and I didn’t take it off. Putting it on makes me feel as if he’s right there by my side.
Obviously, Chad demanded to know where it came from. I think deep down, he knew. When I didn’t answer right away, and before I could register what was happening, he punched me. Never in my life have I seen someone change in the blink of an eye. When his fist came into contact with my chin, it felt like my head blew off of my body. As the pain shot through my head, tears welled up in my eyes. It was a bone-chilling, hair-raising moment that left me trembling in terror.
As I stood there, holding my cheek, I knew right then that I needed to get away. Of course, he apologized and swore that it wouldn’t happen again.
Typical abuser.
As soon as he got in the shower, I called the police. They were waiting for him when he stepped out into the living room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he rounded the corner and saw two very large police officers standing in the middle of the apartment. My favorite part, though, is what the police heard him say.
He was walking, shoulders bent, out of the bathroom and was rounding the corner toward me. Staring at his feet, he said, “Sweetie, I am really sorry. I will never hit you again.” He faltered backward as he looked up and saw the police officers step out into the living room.
He backed himself into a corner and couldn’t lie his way out of the hole he dug for himself.
The police escorted him out of the apartment (they wouldn’t even let him get dressed) as I frantically packed up my things. I called my parents, and they arrived soon after to help. In twenty minutes, flat, my car and my dad’s became filled with the things I brought with me into this relationship. He can keep the rest. I don’t want one reminder of my life with him.
Chad never said a word as I walked past him, my head held high, and proclaimed, “I quit.”
We are going to start the protection order process first thing in the morning.
Chad is out of my life for good.
Steam from my shower fills the bathroom as I wipe away the mirror. My hair is up in a towel, and my pink robe clings to my wet body. Leaning in closer, I inspect the area where Chad’s fist contacted my chin and cheek, trying to get a better look. The bruise, once purple and prominent, is now barely visible. What remains I can cover up with makeup.
Almost two weeks have passed since that frightening day, yet it feels like longer. It’s amazing how quickly I could leave Chad in the past. Even though I didn’t file charges, the authorities issued a protection order against Chad, which stopped him from contacting me. I haven’t heard from him since.
Good riddance.
Being back home has also given my parents and me a chance to talk, reconnect, and get closer, which has been nice. It’s the best our relationship has ever been. What happened, though, six months ago continues to strain my parents’ marriage. They try to hide their arguments from me, but they forget I am a grown woman now and not a child. I know what’s going on.
Despite my dad’s ongoing job hunt, I was fortunate enough to land a waitressing job at an upscale restaurant. The money is decent, the tips are amazing, and my boss is a woman who doesn’t harass me. A total win-win.
Mostly, things in my life are looking up.
There is still one lingering matter that continues to haunt me. It’s been on my mind since the day I moved back home.
I have to try to mend things with Sam, maybe repair our broken relationship.
It’s Friday, and with the night off, I can finally set my plan in motion.
Honestly, it’s not much of a plan, but I gotta try.
My so-called plan is to drive over to Sam’s, sit down with him, and tell him every detail of what happened, and plead for his forgiveness. Forgiveness that I don’t deserve.
I’m not above begging.
I have no idea how this is going to go. He could shut the door in my face. There’s a good chance he may tell me to go to hell. Or it could go exactly how I’ve imagined it. Will we get back together?
“God, I hope so,” I mutter to myself as I dust on some eyeshadow.
But if not, at least I can finally lift this weight off of my chest by telling him the truth. I have planned out what I’m going to say and replayed it repeatedly in my mind. The visuals of him at first being mad but then understanding and embracing me play in a constant loop. Our lips would meet in a passionate, earth-shattering kiss, bringing us together again.
The mere thought of his lips on mine again causes a rush of warmth to spread across my cheeks.
I knew ending it with Sam and not having him in my life would be hard. But honestly, I did not know how big of a void it would leave in my life. I miss his touch and his husky voice. I miss his strength, how his arms would encase me and make me feel safe. I miss his optimism and his honesty. And, of course, I miss his lips.
Nerves erupt in my stomach as I leave the bathroom, ready to get this show on the road. Operation Get Sam Back is in full swing!
Peering into my closest, I chose an outfit that Sam always loved on me. It’s a basic black dress that showcases my legs. After taking way too long on my hair and makeup to ensure they both look perfect, I cast a final glance at myself in the full-length mirror.
Wait, I forgot something!
I walk over to my vanity, grab his watch, and slip it on my wrist. It snaps into place. A feeling of relief washes over me as I realize I will never have to hide it again.
Satisfied, I grab my purse and car keys and head out the door.
The fifteen-minute drive to his apartment feels like an eternity. And you know how it is. It seems like fate is against me tonight as I hit every red light and get stuck behind every slow driver on the road. I may have honked my horn a few times at some innocent senior citizens.
I can’t help it. The feeling that the rest of my life starts tonight is making me impatient.
Finally, I pull up alongside the curb of his apartment complex. Sam’s place is in the building’s front, and his car parked in the carport, so he’s here. There’s a light on in what I know is the living room on the second floor. The high hopes causing my stomach to churn is almost too much to handle.
Being back here, a pain of regret erupts in my chest because this was supposed to be our first place together. I sit and stare at it, lost in daydreams of the different path my life could have taken if only I hadn’t been so foolish and stupid. We could be in there together, the smell of popcorn wafting through the air, as we snuggle on the couch and map out our future while enjoying a movie. A future I destroyed.
Finally, it’s time to regain what we lost. I only pray he wants the same thing.
“This is it.”
I have never been this nervous in my whole life. Thankfully, I didn’t eat any dinner, or I may have puked it up right here on the street. After taking a big breath for courage, I grab the door handle but then decide to check my makeup and lipstick before I go. Lipstick that I hope ends up all over his face at the end of this.
The light on my visor broke last month, so it’s hard to see. The street light casts a dim glow, the only light in an otherwise dark surroundings. As I press the tip of the soft red to my lips, laughter rings out from the complex.
That’s Sam’s laugh.
But it’s not just Sam’s laughter that fills the air.
I turn my head and let out a gasp. Sam and Jennifer Snow are stepping out onto the porch from the complex entrance.
He’s helping her put on her coat, pulling her curly hair from the back. Their laughter rings out into the night.
Oh, my God.
Sam and I went to school with Jennifer. She was the type of person who was friends with everyone. I don’t think she had one enemy in all of Fitch High School. She was kind, genuine, and funny. I would venture to say that we were even friends.
Did she like Sam in school? Probably. All the girls liked Sam. But that is where Jennifer stands out as different. There were plenty of girls who let Sam know that if we broke up, they would be waiting. But if Jennifer liked Sam, she would never have said. He was in a relationship, so she wouldn’t cross that line.
That’s how good of a person she is.
As I watch them, I wonder how they connected. He’s single, so I’m sure she made her move.
I can’t say that I blame her.
Or worse yet, maybe he pursued her.
And, naturally, she is just as gorgeous now as she was in high school.
With rapt attention, I watch the two of them laughing, thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. Jennifer is eating up his every word as he says something, laughing and touching him with each giggle.
I scoot down in the seat of my car because I can’t risk him seeing me, even though I am shrouded in darkness here on the street. The porch light casts a soft glow on the happy couple, giving me a front row seat to the end of my world. My mouth goes dry as my insides churn.
Their conversation stops as he whispers something in her ear. He runs his hand up her arm, and she inches closer to him. Their eyes lock as she nods in agreement with whatever it was he asked her. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I watch Sam with another woman unfold before my eyes. And not just any woman.
Jennifer Freaking Snow. Quite literally, the nicest person in the whole wide world.
Taking her ‘yes’ as the invitation it is, he grips her arms, and in one quick motion, draws her closer, their lips colliding. I feel queasy as a pain shoots straight to my heart.
I turn away and cover my mouth to control the sob that is bubbling to come out. One thought flashes in my head almost instantly. He used to kiss me that way.
After taking a second to compose myself, I look back at the porch.
They’re gone.
My head whips to his car, which is still there. So that means only one thing.
They went back into his apartment.
The sob that I was suppressing comes out, along with a scream that I can’t stop. My stomach aches, and I clutch it as tears steam down my cheeks. I’m crying so hard that I can’t catch my breath. Both hands land on the steering wheel. I need to ground myself to something as this overwhelming feeling consumes me. My forehead falls forward, colliding with the black vinyl as my breaths increase.
“How is this happening?”
Wait, I know the answer.
Me. This is happening because of me.
I let Sam go. I drove him into the arms of Jennifer Snow.
The blame falls on me.
My life is a total disaster. Tears are pouring out of my eyes, streaking my mascara, wetting my dress. I’m trying to get my breathing under control because I need to get off of this street. I can’t take the chance of him seeing me. Although I’m fairly certain his attention is on something else. Or someone else.
I gasp for a breath, and I can’t fill my lungs with air. He’s in there right now, kissing her, touching her, loving her.
“Oh, my God, I’m hyperventilating.”
Focusing my attention on the car parked in front of me, I draw a huge breath in. I slowly let it out. I do this a handful of times until my breathing is stable. Raising my eyes to the visor mirror again, and with a shaking hand, I wipe away the black marks that are running down my face.
After a few more minutes, I have myself under control enough to start the car. Before I drive away, I glance one last time at his apartment. The living room light is out.
I lost him.
He’s gone.
Forever.
I pull away from the curb and start the drive home. Amidst the chaos of my racing mind, there is one undeniable truth.
This is my fault, my mess, my mistake. I have brought this upon myself. I deserve to be miserable.
And I hope Sam is happy. After what I did to him, I want him to find happiness.
Even if it’s with Jennifer Freaking Snow.
The nicest person in the whole wide world.