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“There’sno need to be so…petty.” Instead of caring for the dampness in my eyes, he patronized me. “Honestly, Ihave no idea where all this is coming from. We agreed I’ll put in the hours and effort into my studies to make abetter future again, for us, so that you won’twork. All you ever needed to do was support me.”
Nearly having an out-of-body experience, Irose to my feet, stumbling back and nearly bumping into the nightstand. The water glass on it dropped on the lush rug, water spilling everywhere. Ididn’tcare, not anymore. All Icared about was leaving this man who, without my knowledge or approval, had become my prison guard.
“Weagreed?” My eyes narrowed into thin slits.
Ialready had the answer: we never did. Then again, his lying wasn’tnew. Greg perpetually told half-truths, misled me, or told full-blown lies, then claimedIforgot things. He made me question myself, made me think Iwas an idiot.
Even in the few times Icaught him, with hard, real evidence, he called me aliar. Not today.
“When we started dating you at least pretended to care about my goals and career,” Iaccused him, tearing another hole in the insecurity blanket he smothered me with. “And now this? You decided Iwouldn’twork and that’sthat?”
Greg’sbrows furrowed, attempting to uphold his mental control over me. “If you want you can draw as much as you like, as long as you’re there when the kids are home from school.”
“Idon’tdraw, Ipaint! Ipaint!” Iraked my hand through my hair, my tears of frustration becoming tears of anger.
The walls closed in on me, acrippling sensation. Inearly backed out on my resolve.
Don’t. Be brave. Go.
The voice propelled me out of my stagnation. Icollected my clothes from the floor, dressed in ahurry, and faced him. “This is it, Greg. I’mgoing to start anew life. One where I’ll be paying my own bills and teaching wonderful kids.” Iwanted to addso they will never be as close-minded as you, but the look in his eyes told me to think better of it.
“Erin, Idon’tknow why we’re having this conversation at”—he glanced at his watch—“one in the morning. I’mbored with your dramatics and am going to sleep.”
Irecoiled at the malice in his voice, tempted to return to the monotony of our peaceful routine that didn’tconsist of yelling and fighting.
Run, Erin. Get out.
“Goodbye, Greg.” Islipped on my shoes as fast as Icould.
“Fine Erin, run off to your imaginary world of drawing or painting or whatever the fuck it is throwing paint on paper is called. Idon’tknow who will even want to take you.”
With my back to him, my hand on the door, Irefused to let him throw another insult at me. “Iwanted this to work, Ireally did. But you’re looking for adoormat and Idon’twant to play that part anymore.”
Without waiting for his response, Iopened the door and slammed it shut behind me.
Istepped out of my prison, freed, and headed to my best friend Laura’sapartment after texting her Iwas on my way. She replied withCan’twait, not asking questions, simply accepting.
The knowledge of having someone Iloved waiting for me made this whole situation somewhat more tolerable.
The farther away Istepped from Greg’shouse, the fresher the air became. South End Boston never looked this beautiful without carrying the weight of Greg on my back, and in my growing enthusiasm, Itwirled, flapping my duffle bag in acircle.
Itwirled and twirled, humming “Singing in the Rain” in my head without the actual rain, but with awhole lot of freedom and happiness and joy. Inearly started tapping Gene Kelly style, and then my happy dance reached its abrupt stop. Not due to me getting bored of one of the best, most iconic songs ever.
Istopped because Inoticed, at avery late hour of the night, aman walking right behind me.
Atall man. If Ihad to guess, probably six foot four, or five. He had his brown-blondish hair up in aman bun with adarker, fuller beard and wore awhite T-shirt with faded jeans.
Normal on the handsome side.
Then again, so was Ted Bundy.
The pepper spray my mom told me to carry with me always weighed heavy in my pocket, reminding me Iwasn’tcompletely helpless. Igripped it tight as Iwalked forward, no longer dancing. If the need came, it would’ve given me enough time to run to Laura’shouse while he’dgo temporarily blind.
The stomping of the man’sfootsteps sounded louder and closer behind me, when Itook the turn to the street where Laura lived. The hairs on my arms stood and Irushed to get there before Ineeded to use my self-protection measures.
Stop being avictim.
My hurried steps came to an abrupt stop at the thought. Irefused to be one, not again.
