Chapter 3
Hazel
Sneezing for what felt like the hundredth time today, I rubbed my watery eyes and continued tracing the outline of one of my client’s tattoos.
She wanted an old-school perfume bottle with flowers drawn inside.
I loved doing dainty pieces like this one, especially when they gave me a general direction and creative freedom.
I just wished my eyes would clear up enough to make sure my lines were perfect, but they hadn’t stopped watering since I’d sat down to work.
I rubbed them again, feeling momentary relief before the subtle burning returned.
“This is all your fault, Lucifer!” I angrily signed to Skylar’s fat orange tabby cat sitting in the windowsill.
He looked back at me as if he sensed my disdain toward him and flicked his tail before returning his attention to the birds outside on the apartment balcony.
I knew this was his home more than mine and that I should be grateful Skylar was letting me crash here temporarily, but it was so easy to hate him when he was such an asshole of a cat.
I had to start wearing taller socks just so he would stop leaving marks on my ankles whenever he attacked me out of the blue.
Which was quickly becoming a daily occurrence.
With how long his claws were, the socks didn’t help all that much, but at least the scratches weren’t as deep.
I was about to start wearing combat boots if war was what he was after.
I glanced down at the cherry-printed fabric pathetically protecting the red and swollen skin of my ankles beneath it. If I could, I would itch them until they bled, but I knew it would just make it worse.
The clock on the side table flipped to five p.m., and on schedule, Skylar walked through the door a moment after. Or rather, sprinted.
I lowered the tablet in my hands, eyes wide with surprise.
“Guess who got tickets to the Ballads for Hope Fest this weekend?” she signed with enthusiasm before dancing in a circle with her hands in the air, pointing down at herself.
I chuckled at her display and situated myself more upright on her couch. “Wait, don’t those tickets always sell out months in advance? How did you manage to get any?”
“The radio station was doing a giveaway!” she told me.
“The radio?” I asked, pretending like it was a form of media I’d never heard of.
She propped her hands on her hips and then scolded me. “Yes, Hazel. People still listen to the radio.”
I pressed my lips together and stifled another laugh.
Of course, I knew the radio was still relevant.
Not too many people our age chose that form of media anymore, but that was beside the point.
Skylar only listened to the radio during the day for the segment when they would prank call someone’s boyfriend and pretend they’d won free flowers, only to catch them cheating.
That kind of stuff always made my skin crawl, but Skylar thrived off relationship drama.
I was pretty sure it was what fed her energy levels during her twelve-hour shifts in the bakery every day.
It didn’t matter the source—the radio, reality television, hearing about her sister’s numerous affairs through the rest of her family; that girl was like a moth to a flame.
She claimed that it made her more aware of relationship bullshit, and that was why she’d been single for so long.
While I knew that had some truth to it, I also knew it was making her scared of ever putting herself out there.
I mean, who wouldn’t be? No one wanted to risk being vulnerable when you only ever surrounded yourself with stories of one relationship fail after another.
My recent divorce news certainly wasn’t helping convince her otherwise.
“Anyway, I called in when I was waiting for my sourdough to finish rising, and I won three tickets!” Skylar bounced with enthusiasm, her red curls flinging up and down with her. “I never win anything!”
“That’s amazing, Sky!” I exclaimed.
“I want to surprise Genesis with them for her bachelorette party!”
“But that’s not for another three weeks,” I replied, questioning her new proposal.
“I know, but this will be so much better than bull riding in that dirty little dive bar downtown we had planned, don’t you think?”
My shoulders slumped. “I mean, I agree, but I have to work this weekend.”
“Well, call Brian and ask for the day off.” She smiled, practically begging me with her big green eyes.
My boss, Brian, wouldn’t have a problem with me asking for the day off. It was my clients and my paycheck after all. But I was in desperate need of the money.
“You know I can’t do that right now,” I said. “I have to save as much as I can so I can get off your couch and find my own place.”
She dropped her purse onto the ground and sat on the couch next to me. “I told you that you can stay here as long as you need to.”
“I think my allergies would disagree. And so would Lucifer.” I chuckled as her cat strutted by and hissed at me, helping me prove my point.
“Okay, but one day of tattooing isn’t going to expedite you getting out of here that much faster. Besides, it’s a benefit festival for the children’s hospital.” She batted her sad, round eyes.
I pursed my lips at her, trying not to find it amusing. “Yeah, that you got free tickets to. The money is still going to the children whether I go or not.”
She rolled her eyes and then started picking at her nail beds, her bottom lip pushing outward in a pout.
I hated that I rained on all her excitement. Skylar ran herself into the ground with her bakery. She loved her business, but she rarely ever took time off. She never asked for anything, not even rent when she offered her apartment to me.
This was important to her and an opportunity that might not come again for all three of us. But I already had a client I’d blocked out an entire day for, and I really did need the money …
Ugh, I was torn.
Skylar placed a hand on my knee, making me look up at her now-watering eyes. “For Genesis?”
Well, fuck me. I couldn’t say no now!
I narrowed my gaze at her. “Oh, that is so not playing fair, Sky.”
She fought back a victorious smile, but I poked it out of her with a quick jab to her side, both of us bursting into laughter.
“I don’t even know all the bands that will be there. Do you?” I asked, still laughing. I remembered seeing advertisements on social media and billboards throughout the city, but I couldn’t remember who was playing at the festival.
Skylar shrugged. “I have no idea, but I’m sure Genesis, being the little music buff she is, will know them all. There has to be a few we’ve heard of.”
My gaze dropped to my tablet as I continued to smile at the idea of Genesis shaking her ass for hours on end, having the time of her life.
Okay, maybe giving up one day of tattooing would be worth it. After all, a night out to let loose could do me some good right now.
“That’s really pretty.” Skylar pointed at my drawing, her eyes sparkling as she looked over the details more closely.
“Yeah?” I grinned. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to add some vines coming out of the top or not. What do you think?”
She cocked her head and then nodded. “Ooh, I like that idea! Definitely add them.”
“Okay,” I agreed, eagerly starting the line work.
I drew a few swoops to define the shape I wanted the vines to be and then began lightly tracing the leaves to decide how many to add and what shape I liked best, but I could feel Skylar watching me more than my hands.
Looking up from beneath my lashes, I caught her staring and arched a brow. “What?” I chuckled.
She shook her head, but it almost looked like her eyes were glossing over.
“Hey, you won, okay? We’re going to the festival. No more tears.”
“It’s not that?” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just nice to see some light back in your eyes, even over work stuff, you know?”
“Light?” I frowned. “What, was I dead before?”
She rolled her eyes at my sarcasm and then continued, “No. But …” She paused.
I swallowed, seeing the emotion constricting her face.
“He just took so much life out of you.”
Okay, now my eyes were beginning to water, and this time, it wasn’t from the cat.
“I was so scared I’d never get you back.
The Hazel I’d met back in middle school, who thought the stars shone brighter when she did a good deed for the day and looked at the world through the clearest rose-colored glasses.
The Hazel who never asked if it was okay to pit-stop on a road trip so you could pick wildflowers in the middle of a field or randomly draw little murals on sidewalks to brighten someone’s day when they walked past. You were so unapologetically you until …
” Her eyes drifted elsewhere in thought as she tried to find the right words.
I hated how painstakingly aware I was of what she meant.
But it hadn’t been Devan’s fault any more than it was my own for allowing those parts of me to dim.
I could’ve walked away the first time I thought about it.
Or the second or the fifth. I should’ve walked away.
Much sooner. Long before my friends began biting their tongues or I started making excuses for his behavior.
I lied to myself for years, convinced that our love could withstand it all, that he would be better.
I deserved it. Leaving felt more like failure than freedom though, so I stayed.
I’d fucking stayed.
“Thanks, Sky. I’m finding my way back to her,” I told her, a tear falling down my cheek.
“I know. I see it.” She nodded with a soft smile on her lips.
I pulled her into a hug and then felt my phone buzz from my pocket. It was from Brian, letting me know the air-conditioning was on the fritz again at the tattoo shop and to come prepared tomorrow.
Before I could type out a response, another notification came through. This time from Devan.
Devan: Baby, can we please talk?
My pulse quickened, and my mind raced.
Skylar tapped my arm. “Is that cold Devan or warm Devan asking?”
I pursed my lips at her for reading my text over my shoulder, even though I was about to show her anyway.
My phone vibrated again.
Devan: This house isn’t the same anymore.
Skylar rolled her eyes. I could see her fighting back the urge to steal my phone and send him a string of awful—yet probably deserved—replies.
Another text came through. And another immediately following.
Devan: I don’t know what to do. I can’t function without you!
Devan: Don’t you miss me? Miss us?
I began to type a response, but deleted it before I could get more than a word or two out. There wasn’t an easy way to respond, not when he was like this. And especially not when all I wanted him to do was sign the divorce papers and get this over with.
Devan: I can see you typing. Come on, baby. I need you back. I’ll be better. I promise.
Lies. I’d heard it all before.
Devan: Let’s rip up the papers and start again. Okay? Clean slate.
Just like that? He thinks we can start over, just like that?
I hadn’t asked for a divorce on a whim or to get him to open his eyes so that he would treat me better. I did it because I knew there was no other option. And trust me, I’d weighed them all for as long as I could.
Skylar placed her hand on my knee, giving me a comforting squeeze. “I know you don’t want to talk to him, but I think you should text him back.”
I chewed on my lip. “You do?”
“You still want this, right? The divorce?” Skylar asked.
“Yes, of course.”
She took a careful breath. “Then you need to let him know that you’re not coming back.”
“He should know that.” I slumped forward. “Right?”
“He’s dumb. Like, really fucking dumb.” My brow twitched up at her before she continued, “He thinks there’s still a chance he can talk this through with you.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Babe, you served him divorce papers.”
“I know! But still …”
“That is one of many reasons he doesn’t deserve you.” She nodded. “You have to cut off his hope.”
“The moment I give him an honest reply, he’ll flip it on me and snap.” My stomach twisted at the anticipation.
“You can handle it, Hazel,” she reassured me.
I started to shake my head when she pierced me with a stern expression.
“Hey. Look at me. He’s not here. He can’t hurt you, sweetie.”
“But his words …” I started.
I could picture him in front of me as clear as day, along with what he’d say to me.
She grabbed my hands and gently lowered them so I couldn’t finish. “He can only hurt your feelings if you let him.”
With a shaky, long exhale, I brought my screen to life again.
I wasn’t completely heartless. Just because I didn’t want to be married to the man anymore didn’t mean I wanted to hurt him. Though I questioned how much that man felt at all anymore.
This breakdown was yet another way Devan reacted to losing control. Most days, that meant anger and violence while others were begging for forgiveness. The roller coaster never ended. I knew that, so I needed to respond simply and directly.
Skylar shifted closer to me on the couch as I texted him back, visibly sighing when she saw that I hadn’t included any curse words.
Me: I know this is difficult, Devan. It is for me too. But I’m not changing my mind. I need you to sign the papers by this weekend, or I’ll have to request a default divorce.
There.
Sent.
A text bubble immediately appeared on his end, and I threw my phone across the room before I could think, wincing as it narrowly missed Lucifer.
Shit.
He flung himself off the chair in surprise and ran off, flashing his fangs at me with his hair on end the whole way to Skylar’s bedroom.
“And you wonder why he doesn’t like you,” Skylar teased.
“Sorry, Lucifer!” I signed in the direction he fled.
“I don’t think he would believe that even if you said that to his face and gave him a handful of treats.”
I giggled. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m swearing off trying to please any and all men from here on out.”
Her shoulders relaxed with her next breath out. “Fucking finally.”