“I will, I promise. You get started on your hair and I’ll go wash the dinner dishes.” He thrusts the box of hair dye into my hand and crosses back to the kitchen sink.
I’m looking at the box in my hands when I hear him fill the sink with water. I refuse to dye my hair and go into the bathroom to tuck the box away in hopes that he will forget the whole idea. I’m finding a good hiding spot when I hear the sound of a splash.
“Fuck!” I hear Bryan shout so I turn and go back to the kitchen. After a few moments of him digging around in the sink, his hand emerges with my phone. My heart sinks. So much for texting Vivian about getting my stuff or ever responding to Taryn.
“Did you get any rice?” I ask as I rush over to him. I’ve never drowned my phone like this before but I know rice is the best way to fix it. I regret not letting Charlie get me the newest, most water-resistant phone on the market. The thought of Charlie sends a pang through my chest, and I try to focus on the situation at hand: the man in front of me and the ruined phone.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t... I’m so sorry.” He sets the phone aside and turns off the tap. He doesn’t offer me a reason for why my phone was anywhere near the water in the first place. Bryan dries his hands and starts to pull out all the insides of my phone, separating out the battery. It couldn’t have been underwater for more than a minute, but the inside is dripping like it was under for way longer. He lays it out on a paper towel, patting the components dry.
“If we don’t have rice, I can go to the store and get a new one.” I’m dismayed at not being able to use my phone, but it was an accident. I have to let it go. In the week he’s been here, I’ve learned that it’s easier to let things go with Bryan. He is not that easy to be around. I’ve been picking up after him because asking him to pick up after himself has gotten me nowhere. Yet another reminder for why I didn’t want children: picking up after someone for the rest of my life is not something I’m interested in. So, the thought of Bryan and me trying to have children is just perplexing.
I felt like my life was finally on track before Bryan emerged and jumbled things back up again. I was happy with Charlie. I was whole. I try to tell myself that Ihadwanted this, but maybe my time with Charlie made me outgrow Bryan and our relationship. I had thought if this man was my fiancé, I had to give it a chance. But I’m not enjoying having him in my space. I don’t know how to get him out. I have no way of getting help, either. My laptop charger has gone missing in the mess of things he’s brought here, and now, my phone is dead too.
“No rice. And it’s too late to go get a new one. I’ll pick up some rice tomorrow and we can go from there. It’s supposed to sit in the rice for a few days anyway.” He does seem genuinely sorry about what happened.
I feel sad for my phone, sitting there with all the meaty bits exposed and on display. I take care to move it to somewhere safer, to my nightstand drawer, where hopefully nothing else can go wrong.
Chapter 25
“Haveyouseenmywallet?” I ask in the morning as I move a pile of Bryan’s clothes. I want to get out of the apartment, out of what was supposed to be my safe space, but I can’t find my keys or my wallet. All it takes is waking up an amnesiac once to make sure you always have identification on you.
My apartment reeks of weed and cigarette smoke and I need to get out of here or I might hit Bryan. I’m not a violent person, but I feel like a caged bird, stuck in here with a cat waiting for its next meal.
“No, but what do you even need it for?” He doesn’t even look up from the video game he’s playing. It’s Valentine’s Day and I’ve been stuck here with him for too long. I’m at the end of my rope and I will sooner walk out this door and sleep at Vivian and Jack’s before I spend another minute cooped up here.
“Bryan, I need to go get a new phone. I get it, you’re too busy to get it, but my phone has been dead for over a week and I still need to get the last of my stuff from Charlie’s.” I put my hands on my hips, standing in front of him as he ignores me in favor of whatever stupid game he’s playing with his friends. This is a usual scene around the small apartment: he plays video games and I work on my physical therapy. Standing in front of the TV while he plays Halo online with his buddies is sure to get his attention. He moves so fast that I don’t see him coming as he backhands me. With my tongue, I feel my that my lip split. I lift my hand to my cheek. The pain is a dull roar in my mind compared to the surprise that he hit me, compared to the feeling that this isn’t the first time.
“God, why did you do that? You just make me so mad when you talk about him. I’m sorry... I just...you need to forget him. He took you away from me, from us.”
I don’t have time to express my shock before he looks immediately apologetic. He kisses my head and my lips before grabbing my chin. His fingers dig into my skin and forces me to look into his eyes. I stare with doe-eyed confusion, even though I feel anger surging.
“Don’t ever say his name again, you ungrateful whore.” He lets go of my face before sitting back down and unpausing his game. I’m too stunned to move and way too angry to say anything. Things start to slide into place as I think over this time we have been together. Things he has said and done, and now, I’m angry with myself for being back in this situation. I did this to myself.
“Get your fat ass out of my way so I can play my game. Better yet, blow me. I used to love when you would do that thing with your tongue.” When I don’t move, his eyes flick to me.
“You owe me.” There is a challenge in his eyes, a dare to not do what he wants, and I take him up on it.
I walk into the bathroom without saying a word.
I hope that his game is enough to keep him distracted and forget about me so I can think. I lean against the door and force myself to look in the mirror at someone I no longer recognize. Gone is the confident woman who would take things into her own hands with her lover. I’ve been reduced to a coward by this tiny man.
I look at the bruise blossoming on my cheek and trace the contours of it with my finger. I remember flinching when Charlie threw a shirt in my direction. Things that didn’t click before are now making sense. Déjà vu overwhelms me as I use wet toilet paper to clean the blood from my lip. My stomach turns and I can’t stop myself from dropping to my knees and throwing up, cursing my gullibility and naivety.
I want to scream and throw things and get the fuck out. But I don’t have a phone or a wallet. He has reduced me to a prisoner in my own home. I’m sure he’s been squirreling away all of my things. My phone going in the sink was no accident. I wipe at an errant tear and resolve to clean today, keeping an eye out for my shit. I need to leave and it has to be tonight when he’s asleep. I don’t doubt that he will prevent me from leaving if he’s aware.
I go to the kitchen to make breakfast, pointedly ignoring Bryan on the couch. I’ve gotten better in these two weeks at making eggs but my skills don’t go much further than that. Bryan comes up behind me and slaps my ass as he grinds against me. My hands tighten around the spatula and the pan. He’s been getting frustrated that I refuse to sleep with him and even to kiss him. Does he think that hitting me will make me horny for him? Make me forget that I already didn’t want to kiss him and now my swollen lip means I want to do it even less? His hand starts to slide from my hip and it doesn’t take a genius to guess where it’s headed. I move my elbow, blocking him, swiveling so I can dump the eggs on a plate.
“Remind me to call that guy, Jack, and thank him for putting us in touch again,” he says sweetly as he kisses my neck.
His hand wanders to my hip but I barely notice since I’m rigid, feeling as if he’s dumped ice water over me. I shouldn’t be surprised that Jack was involved somehow. I wonder if Jack and Charlie’s dad coordinated this: drop the comments that I’m not good enough, make me feel inferior, and bring my ex-boyfriend out of the woodwork.
I feel like such a fool to have fallen for it. I have serious doubts that Bryan and I were ever engaged. Suddenly, leaving him in the middle of a hurricane doesn’t feel so far-fetched. I had enough autonomy before, since I was able to get out from under his thumb. I was able to escape to my apartment but since he has ensconced himself here, I am at his mercy. I look out the kitchen window and see snow starting to come down. I’ve forgotten to care about the weather, but now that I’ve going to leave, I need to worry about it.
“Did you know it was supposed to snow?” I comment. Now I have to find my winter coat in addition to everything else.
“Yeah, apparently we name winter storms now. This one is Winter Storm Ellie.” Bryan laughs at this, mopping up his eggs with toast.
“We should go out and make snow angels!” I suggest, wondering if I can get him to bite. Then he would have to reveal where my keys are. I can make due without my wallet for now, though leaving in a snowstorm without ID feels like asking for trouble.