Page 2 of Salvation

If you would have just put out, I wouldn’t have looked elsewhere

I outwardly cringe at the influx of texts pouring onto my small and cracked phone screen. I had been meaning to get it replaced for months now but haven’t had the motivation or time. I scroll through the various other texts I’ve gotten from him over the past few hours, choosing to ignore themagainand block the unknown number.Love bombing and gaslighting seem to be his new favorite trick.

This is the third phone number he’s texted me from, and I’m at the point where I’ll need to change my number if I can even begin to hope for a moment of peace. Probably, moving out of the country is more like it. I throw the phone behind me, sighingas it hits the plush pillow at the top of my bed. I rub my hands over my face, not surprised to find no tears littering my warm cheeks.

We had been together for quite some time, so I suppose I should feel a little more distraught. But I can’t bring myself to feel anything other than pure annoyance. I liked Marshall, but I didn’t love him. He came from a good home and family. He made me laugh, he was smart, and the sex was fine. He bought me overly lavish gifts and took me out to dinner twice a week. He’s the type of man any woman would be happy to have. It indeed was a shock to find out he’d been sleeping with my boss for the entirety of our relationship.

I introduced them at a Christmas party, blissfully unaware of the way they had studied each other and how they took a rather large interest in what the other did. I was naïve enough to think it was great. That it would get me a foot in the door when it came to growing my relationship with Ingrid, but clearly, that was not the case. It did the opposite.

Now I’m here. Jobless, single, and a failure. All accomplished in the past 24 hours.

It hurts, of course. Because trusting someone and having them break that trust will gut anyone’s soul. But it doesn’t hurt in the way I had thought it would. I’m not heartbroken, just disappointed. Disappointed that I settled for a man soboring.And for what? In hopes of proving something to myself? That I could move on? Heal?

I wish I could go back and shake some sense into myself. Save myself a year, nearly two, of my life. Over the time I’ve been living in New York, I’ve gone on multiple dates with gorgeous men, and even brought many of them home, but something had always beenmissing.It rarely felt right, and I know deep in my bones that I had only ever been settling for Marshall. I had always thought his nose was a little too straight, his smile a littletoo perfect, and his hands a little too soft. I think I loved the idea of him more than anything. What he could give me, and what he was offering me. A distraction, a home, a purpose.

I was not a woman without her flaws, but I sure as hell spent my time picking out everyone else’s.

I rub the bridge of my nose in hopes of encouraging at least one single tear to fall free, but it never comes. Just like that promotion. Just like that hope of creating and holding onto something that was so selfishly for myself.

I choose to glare at the box filled with office supplies resting on my dining room table instead, and then at the empty duffle bag I pulled out the minute I set foot in my apartment.

“I’m so, so sorry, babe. They never deserved you,” Vivienne says as she hugs me for what must be the tenth time.

I had immediately texted her as I left the office, and she’d shown up in less than twenty minutes with an armful of goodies she deemed essential for this kind of heartbreak.It’s one of the many reasons I love Vivienne. She’s sickeningly sweet, but she’ll always go to bat for the ones she loves.

“I know. It’s just-" I drop my head into my hands, pushing them through my hair. “I’ve been working towards this for years.Years.What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

Vivienne and I met when we were both eighteen, courtesy of her older sister, Whitney. We became fast friends when she welcomed me with open arms into her tiny studio apartment. I had nowhere else to go when I landed in New York, and despite the fact that I was a stranger, she was more than happy to take me under her wing and treat me as her own. I finally stopped freeloading when I saved up enough to attend college and live on campus. I tried more than once to pay her back in full for all the money she had spent keeping both of us afloat, but she never accepted it. Funnily enough, a few months after I moved out, she ended up transferring to the same school as me, wherewe became roommates once again. In our last year of college, though, we unfortunately weren’t able to stay in the same part of campus due to our different career paths. We got stuck with roommates we admittedly complained about more often than we should have, and Vivienne soon became that type of friend that you didn’t need to see every day or even every few weeks. When we came back together, it always felt as if no time had passed. Despite that, our busy lives still took a toll on our friendship. So, after graduation, we decided to remedy that in the best way possible.

By buying an apartment together.

It wasn’t a hard decision to make, considering we already knew what it was like to be housemates. We were more like sisters than anything else. She was one of the very few people who knew everything about me. And I knew that regardless of anything that happened, she’d always be the one consistent thing in my life, and I’d always be hers.

“This is going to sound terribly cliché of me but shit like this happens for a reason, right? Maybe this job wasn’t what you needed right now. That man wasdefinitelynotwhat you needed right now. It sucks, but maybe you can use this as an opportunity to exploreyoua little bit more? You’ve always wanted to write a book, so why not take a couple of months and give that a try?” She pauses when I look back up at her. “You’ve been working non-stop since you got to the city. You have enough saved up to take a break. So, maybe it’s time for a change in pace? Maybe even scenery?” She gives me a knowing look as I mull over her words, letting the air fill with silence.

“I have to get back to work,” Vivienne says as she reaches forward to give my hand a tight squeeze. “But I promise we’ll watch all the chick flicks, eat all the snacks, and drink all the wine the minute I get home.” She’s one of the best Veterinary Technicians in the city. She loves her job more than probablydeemed healthy, but I could not help beaming with pride every time she talks about it. It makes me so happy to know just how hardworking she is and that she scored the job she’s been dreaming of since she was a little girl. She no doubt deserves it and more.

“Sounds good,” I sigh. She leans over, kisses my cheek, and gives me a small smile. Sauntering away, she calls out over her shoulder, “Don’t you dare open that merlot without me!” And then she’s gone as quickly as she came, and I’m utterly alone with all my unwanted thoughts.

New York is home. It’s been home for the past six years. Imadeit home when I needed it the most. But maybe Vivienne is right. Have I been a fool for thinking I could so easily run away from my past and start anew? Maybe it’s time to head back to my roots and face everything that’s led me tothis.I dwell on that line of thinking while I pop open that forbidden bottle of merlot, and once it’s finished later that night, Vivienne walks back in the door with another one as if she already knew what to expect when she got back home.

Chapter 2

Blake

“Isaid shut up, you little bitch!” My father barked, bringing the back of his palm across my face, striking hard.

“You’re just fucking like her!”Again, and again, and again.

It didn’t matter that cry after cry tore its way out of my already swollen and bruised throat. His hands are merciless in their assault, and I know well enough that he’ll only stop when he’s satisfied. If he even chooses to stop.

I’m usually so careful when he’s drinking. Knowing when to retreat to my room, when to lock the door, when to keep my mouth shut. And it’s never this bad. Never physically, at least. He usually doesn’t leave bruises where anyone will see them. But tonight, something inside me snapped. I was angry at myself for letting this go on, at him for his brutal assaults, at my mother for being gone, and at everyone else around me for not seeming to notice his unchecked anger. I could no longerstomach the hits, the harsh words, or anything else from the man that holds no resemblance to the father that was once the center of my entire universe.

“This is why she left you!” I screamed, spitting in his face. I screamed as loud as I possibly could, as if someone could hear. As if anyone could hear.

Again, and again, and again.

Maybe this time will be it. Maybe I won’t wake up this time. Maybe this will be the last time he can hurt me.

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