33 #2
"But you're leaving me…" I gasped, borderline hysterical. Tears slipping down my face and my throat when I shut my eyes. "Over a fucking lie?”
"Rafe..." he sighed, setting his bag aside and grabbing my face. "Look at me..." I couldn't open my eyes. "Rafe, look at me!"
I opened them and he was a blur. A dark, indistinct face hovering above mine. His voice miles away, like I’d been submerged underwater.
"I’m comin' back ASAP, okay? Just for you." He kissed my face, then my lips, and I tasted the salt of my own tears. "And when I come back, we'll talk as long as we need to okay, baby?" I nodded and he picked up his bag again, but I hadn't budged. I was still blocking the door.
"Rafe, watch out, babe. Let's go. I gotta go. You hear me?" I stared off behind him, entranced by realities I'd put off far too long.
"Hello? Rafe? Are you listenin'?! Hey?!" he snapped. " I gotta go! M'already late!"
I stood my ground. He exploded.
"Move, Ralph! Now!"
I was already losing him. I nodded and took a breath, then simply whispered: "I can't."
"What the fuck do you mean you can't?! Just get the fuck off the door, alright? What’s wrong with you?! Are you losin' your mind?!"
"I guess," I croaked.
He dropped his stuff for a third time and rubbed his hands down his face.
"You're really fuckin tryin' me, mate...you know that?"
That was the most terrifying thing I'd ever heard him say. His voice was barely veiled contempt. He would erupt again at any minute, and I, well, I was prepared to weather the storm.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, attempting to be civil once more.
"I want you to say we'll talk."
"Yes! We'll talk, you know we will! Have you ever heard of a fuckin' phone?!"
"I want you to say we'll talk now. I want you to cancel your flight—"
“Fuck!" he barked, storming away.
"I'm at least worth that, Rome. I'm at least worth a rescheduled flight, aren't I?”
"You're purposefully askin' for somethin' you know I can't fuckin' do, just to make me feel like shit. You're a miserable fuck and you're just tryin' to make me miserable too! You've been tryin' to make me feel like shit for weeks—"
"That's bullshit! You're the one punishing me for a petty lie. Rome, it was a lie. I'm so sorry I said it. I know I fucked up. But I'm at least worth a rescheduled flight!"
He approached and I felt true fear.
"I'm not arguin' with you. I need to go!" he slammed his hands against the door on either side of my head. I dared to take both of his hands and kissed them until he stopped resisting.
"You make me fuckin' insane!" he hollered, leaning in defeat against the door over my head. "I'm already late..."
He still had no clue how much he meant to me, and that was for my own protection. If he couldn't take the hints I’d laid out for him to find without becoming skittish, then there was no way he could handle the riptide within me, waiting to drown him.
"You said it was you and me against the world, remember?
And now you're just...leaving? Leaving me alone to fend for myself?
You're the only one who knows how to take care of me.
" He looked me in the eye and I could see the guilt making his thoughts vacillate.
"You saved me. You protected me. And if you leave now, it's like you never did any of that shit in the past, alright? How am I supposed to be ok?"
I was breaking him down and it both pleased and perturbed me.
It was nice to know he still cared, but what I was doing was devious.
I was guilting him into staying, and I never wanted to be that person.
I knew how much he cared for me and it was selfish to use that against him.
But the thought of waking without him—the thought of going onstage with the rest of the boys and performing without him?
That was insufferable to the point of making me crave death.
He inhaled through clenched teeth. I never saw it coming.
There was a sudden throbbing pang in the back of my head.
I could hardly register it before it came again, the agony far more pronounced.
I was so dazed I couldn't see straight. I lost hearing in one ear.
Only when he let go of my hair did I realize he'd grabbed me by the scalp and slammed my head into the door repeatedly.
I couldn't find words to express the sudden terror of knowing he might kill me.
I gazed through a blur of tears. Excruciating pain shot down my spine.
That's when it happened. He hit me square in the face for the first time with his ringed fist, sending my head back into the door once more.
Looking to impart maximum damage. My lip popped like an overripe grape.
Blood sprayed onto his white tee and down my chin. All of my teeth ached.
I dropped onto the floor in horror. A searing pain ripped through my face, and all I could do was sob uncontrollably.
I was so desperately hurt I couldn’t fathom what to do.
I had no strength to rise and leave, and I was too terrified to reach for my phone and call for help.
I was so afraid of him I didn’t want to move.
The agony only intensified. I lay covering my face, wailing— blood gushing from my mouth.
Out of nowhere, he snatched me up and lumbered into the bathroom, dumping me in the tub with a brutal carelessness.
Utterly unsure of what to do with me, like I was a corpse to be disposed of.
He turned on the faucet and the water was freezing.
He left me there without a word, exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.