Page 9 of With This Lie

5

Dani

I can’t sayI’m surprised by what is happening right now. Of course Mark didn’t actually stop by my work like he said he would. Of course he texted me saying he was unable to make it. Of course I’m walking to his place late at night now to meet him there instead. Of course I can’t actually stay all night because he has to get back to his actual life.

So what am I stopping by for? A fucking booty call. A quick ass booty call that I have to walk home from afterwards. God, I’m an idiot.

I make the trip to his building pretty quickly, and buzz myself in. I shake my head the whole way up and ring the bell in anger. I cross my arms while I wait.

“Hey baby,” he says, smiling, as he opens the door.

It’s his cheese eating, I’m-the-fucking-man grin and it disgusts me. I don’t remember it always being like this with him.

“Hey,” I say coldly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as if nothing had gone wrong.

“Seriously? How can you even ask me that with a straight face?”

He scratches his chin and shrugs his shoulders. “So you want to do this or what?”

Wow. Fucking wow. He clearly doesn’t give a shit and that question was the last straw for me. “You know what, Mark? No. No, I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this anymore,” I say, arms still crossed.

“I’m sorry, what? You’re rejecting me? You’re breaking this off with me?” he asks.

“Yes. I am.”

He scratches his chin again. “Listen, Dani, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but women don’t tell me no. I’m fucking Marcus Stone. You got that, bitch? You don’t break up with me, I break up with you. And you know what, I’m not fucking done with you.” He steps toward me, making fists with both hands at his sides.

I stand there in shock at what he just said. I don’t even know how to respond. Men like him think they can say whatever they want and we just need to obey, need to take it for what it is and step back in line. I don’t fucking think so.

“Listen Mark, I’m going to just go ahead and ignore the fact that you just said some stupid ass shit and I’m going to leave. You have a good night and a good life,” I say, turning to open the door.

Mark’s hand flies past my face and slams the door back shut. He pushes me face first up against the door and pins me there, his body pushing uncomfortably against mine. “I don’t think you heard me, Dani. I’m not done with you,” he says, as he runs his hands into my hair and jerks my head back.

“Let me go, Marcus,” I call out. I never called him Marcus until now. I feel him rubbing himself against my backside, taunting me.

“I don’t think I will,” he says, sliding his hand down my side and around between my legs.

“I’m asking you nicely to think about what you’re doing and let me go before it’s too late,” I say, calmly. I know better than to panic or show fear in this kind of situation. That’s what he wants.

“I don’t think I’ll regret what I’m about to do.” He shoves his face into the crook of my neck to kiss and bite.

He leaves me no choice. I lower my arm and send my elbow back into his stomach as hard as I can. He drops his arm and head down to cup his stomach and I send another elbow back straight across the bridge of his nose. He screams out in pain and cups his face as he falls to the ground. I kick him for good measure and open the front door. I turn to him for just a moment.

“Don’t you ever think about touching me ever again. Lose my number, you fucking asshole.” I slam the door shut behind me. This will be the last time I ever see him. I’ll let the staff at work know he’s banned from the bar now and that’ll be the end of that.

I get out to the sidewalk and take in a few deep breaths of fresh air. Goddamn that feels good. I don’t know why I ever tolerated his entitled ass to begin with. I can already feel my phone buzzing in my pocket and I’m sure he’s sending me some very colorful texts.

I ignore them all the way home, carrying my mace and keys between my fingers. That’s one thing about being assaulted or nearly assaulted. You’re a little on edge after. I haven’t been seeing Mark for that long but something tells me he’s the vengeful type. I could just picture him trying to catch up with me and seek out some sort of revenge.

I make it to my building without incident and hurry in. I’m not too frightened to defend myself, but I certainly don’t want to spend any more time than I have to in a vulnerable spot. I lock up my apartment and see my hands shaking with both adrenaline and fear for the first time tonight. I walk into my bedroom and strip out of my clothes, putting on a long t-shirt and opening my closet door. Moving a few things out of my way, I sit down and lean against the wall. After a few short, jagged breaths, I begin to cry.

For as long as I could remember, anytime I needed to cry, I sought out my closet. I never cried outside of a closet. The world is no place for softness, for vulnerability. It will destroy it. It will take a soft thing and bend it until it breaks. The world is no place for tears or hearts. I leave that all in here, in the closet. This is the only place it’s ever felt safe to do so.

I close my eyes and let it all out on the floor of my closet, like a child, like a frightened small thing. I am angry with myself. I am angry with Mark. I don’t let men make me feel this way. I don’t let men make me feel any way, good or bad, for that matter. I have to regain composure. I will sit here until I can leave this all here behind me. That’s what the closet is for. Still, after all this time, my tiny castle is where I leave all my softness.

My eyes begin to dry and I picture my mother’s face smiling at me, cupping my chin like I am five again. The problem with losing your mother before you’re done needing her is that your mind begins to manifest false memories. You start to inject her in places she never was. And the problem with life is, you’re never done needing her. Foster care taught me a lot. I didn’t suffer the bad experiences I know some others did. Sure, I bounced in and out of homes. No place became permanent. I eventually aged out. But it wasn’t the worst thing. Nothing though, nothing had taught me how to stop missing her. And no one would understand the real reason she was gone.

I wipe the last few tears from my face and stand up. I stare at my phone for a moment and think about reading the texts from Mark but decide it isn’t worth it. I’m ready for bed and whatever he says can wait until morning to be erased.

I lie down and replay the evening one last time. Mark had been a nightmare. Work had been way too busy. Nearly assaulted. Caught off guard by the illustrious Lucas. I wonder if he goes by Luke? Stupid Mark. Stupid, stupid Mark. Who even acts like that? Prick. I was looking to end things with him soon anyway but he certainly helped the cause tonight.

I don’t want to think of him while I fall asleep. I shift my thoughts back to Lucas. His smile. His dimples. His hair. He is too pretty not to think about while drifting off. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and all this will have never happened. I can’t get that lucky in life. I know one thing. At least I’m free again. These days though, freedom feels a lot like loneliness.

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