Chapter 13 ALEX #2
The day has barely started, and I’m already having difficulty staying focused by the time we stop at the huge bookstore downtown. Theo stays close to me, mostly watching what I pick up, occasionally grabbing something and flipping through it.
“What do you like to read?” I ask, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He shrugs, grabbing a battered copy of The House of the Dead and flipping through it.
“I liked this one,” he says as he passes it over.
I skim the back, feeling frozen in horror as I read the words murdering his wife, but Theo doesn’t seem to notice my reaction and keeps talking.
“I’m used to reading whatever’s available, so I’m not picky.
I like your taste, though. You’re a bit of a romantic, you know that?
” He rubs my back and I flinch, turning away from him.
He asks me questions and talks to me about books, but I can’t really respond after that. He buys me whatever books are on the list I keep on my phone and others that he thinks I’ll like, and I focus on my breathing.
The movie is two hours of respite. As long as I ignore that he looks over at me frequently, I don’t have to perform for him, and I’m able to calm down enough to focus again.
We talk about movies over lunch, and it’s an easier conversation, but he notices I’m not eating much and asks if I’m feeling okay.
I have no interest in telling him that stress kills my appetite, so I pretend I don’t like what I ordered.
He looks confused. “You have pad see ew once a week for lunch, and this place is way better than the place by your office. Is it too spicy?” I look down at the food to hide my shock at how much he knows about me.
How long has he been stalking me?
“Yeah, I guess.” I drink my beer slowly, trying to steer the conversation back to an easier topic.
I’m completely overwhelmed from constantly being on guard by the time he takes me shopping. It’s awful. Theo really wants to buy me things, nice things, expensive things. I think of all the unopened gifts at my apartment and try to find ways to dissuade him.
When I mention something’s too expensive, he just shrugs, says it’s not a problem, and buys it.
When I say I don’t need something, he gives me a weird look, says I should have anything I want, and buys it.
When I tell him I won’t use something, he tells me I should have it just in case, and buys it.
He’s about to buy me a pair of heels I’ll never wear, and I pull him to the back of the store, keeping my voice low.
“Please stop buying me things.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like it.” He frowns.
“Alex, you like everything I bought you.” He seems so sure of himself, and my patience finally runs out.
“Stop trying to buy me off,” I snap, and his face twists.
“Jesus, is that what you think I’m doing?
” He pushes my hair behind my ear and strokes my neck.
“Sweetheart, I like giving gifts. If you don’t like these, I won’t buy them, and I’ll return something if you actually don’t want it, but it’s just a way I express affection, I promise.
” He leans down to kiss me, and I flinch a little, not kissing him back.
I’m not accepting anything from him.
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Are you tired? We’ve done a lot today, and it’s getting late. Do you want to go home?” He’s so overwhelming, and I’m worn out, so I nod.
He buys me the fucking heels anyway.
We don’t talk on the drive home much. He asks what I’d like for dinner, and I tell him I’m not hungry.
He turns the radio to the classical station, and I rest my head against the window, closing my eyes.
I can feel my brain starting to shut down and my perception becoming fuzzy.
By the time we get back to my apartment, I just want to go to sleep.
I go straight to my bedroom, stripping and getting underneath the duvet. Theo apparently misunderstands because he starts kissing me, running his hot hands over my body as he slips his tongue into my mouth. I can feel him getting hard against my thigh, and something inside me crumples.
I can’t do this. He can do what he wants, but I don’t have to be here. I can choose to do that. I’m good at that, so I tune out of what’s happening.
Unlike Danny, Theo notices instantly that I’m not reacting to him, and he stops.
“Are you okay?” His voice is concerned. I don’t say anything, I just withdraw further inside myself. He pulls me to the edge of the bed, sitting me up and kneeling in front of me, his hands rubbing up and down my arms.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” His face is anxious and concerned, his mouth tight. “Alex, please talk to me. What’s wrong? What can I do? Let me take care of you.” His hands cup my cheeks, and his thumbs stroke against my temples. I close my eyes, shaking my head a little.
I don’t want to feel anything anymore.
I stand, pushing him out of the way as I walk to the kitchen, grab two bottles of wine, open them both, and head back to the bathroom. Theo’s standing in the doorway to my bedroom, looking concerned as I push past him, starting in on the first bottle of wine.
“What are you doing?” I ignore him as I turn on the faucet and drink fast, waiting for the water to heat up.
Theo slips in behind me and starts going through my medicine cabinet, surreptitiously pulling out my razor and pocketing it.
He doesn’t need to do that, but maybe he’ll be nicer to me if he thinks he does, so I don’t say anything.
I drink and wait for the water to get hot, plugging the tub and sitting in it as it fills slowly.
I finish the first bottle of wine, setting it down on the floor and grabbing the second.
Theo grabs my wrist, trying to get me to look at him.
“Sweetie, that’s not water,” he says, his voice tense, but I ignore him, pulling my hand and the wine bottle free. “Alex, you really shouldn’t drink like this. You’re worrying me.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter into the second bottle before I start drinking.
The bathwater is hot on my skin and I’m drinking fast on a mostly empty stomach, but I’m not escaping how I need to.
This has always worked before, so it’ll work now.
It has to. I turn the faucet off and set the half-empty bottle of wine on the little tray before I grab the vials of bath salt.
I pour all of them in, coating the bottom of the tub in hard crystals that dig into my skin.
Theo’s leaning against the door frame, his body tense and his face alarmed, his arms crossed tight over his chest as he watches me closely.
I drain the bottle of wine and lean back, letting my head hang off the back of the tub as my head starts to swim.
I close my eyes, frustrated that I can still feel my body, feel how upset my stomach is and how my skin is starting to itch from the salt. The scent of roses is overpowering, my head is swimming, and I start to feel nauseous.
Goddammit. Usually, I start to feel numb.
I glance over at Theo and let out a bitter, angry laugh. “Do you know what it feels like when you don’t have control over a single fucking thing in your life?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
“How does it feel to you?”
“Like I’m trapped, I guess.”
“Do you like feeling like that?”
He snorts. “No, I fucking hate it.”
“Then why are you doing it to me?” I hear my voice crack on the last word as I start to cry. He steps into the bathroom, leaning over the tub and cupping my face.
“I’m not,” he says as he brushes my tears away with his thumbs, his voice soft and pleading. “Please don’t think that. This relationship isn’t like that, okay?”
I pull away from him and curl up, crying harder. He sits on the rim of the tub and stares at me, opening his mouth and closing it like he’s searching for something to say. I’m so drunk all of a sudden, and I drop my head onto my knees, moaning.
How am I still not numb?
“I never would have left if I’d known I was going to end up back here,” I slur out.
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to do this again,” I sob, letting my tears drip into the bathwater.
“Do what?”
“I’m going to have to start over.” I really shouldn’t be saying this to him.
“Oh, sweetheart, we can try again tomorrow. Today went better than yesterday, right? Tomorrow will be better, too. You’re just adjusting.
We’re adjusting.” I sob harder. Adjusting.
I adjusted to Danny, but I refuse to adjust to this.
A familiar wash of despair rises inside me, and I let it take me back to an old place.
“I should have been in that fucking car.”
“What car?” I shake my head, my vision tunneling a little and my mouth watering.
I gag and lean over the side of the tub, vomiting up wine and bile.
Theo pulls my hair back with one hand and reaches away from me with the other to pull the plug and turn on the cold tap.
Once my stomach is empty, Theo gets me a glass of water and I take small sips, lying back in the cooling bathwater, my head spinning.
I can see my mother’s painting behind my eyes, the rabbit’s beady red eyes judging me, young me staring at me with disappointment, and I pass out thinking about that fucking rabbit, trapped in my arms, desperate to be free.