Page 15 of Prometheus Burning

The sound of the tinny doorbell shot through me.

I woke with a start, drool covering my right hand which lay flat against the closed yearbook. I heard the sound of the doorbell again. A quick glance at the windows above me revealed darkness. Meaning I hadn’t slept the night away. Groaning, I lifted up from the carpet floor and sank onto my ass in a seated position. I’d fallen asleep next to the laundry basket.

Fuck.

I snatched my phone off up the ground, finally noticing who it was bothering me during a late-night writing session. Dave’s name graced my phone screen. A split second later his call stopped, and the doorbell rang for a second time.

Double fuck.

Five or so messages over the course of the last couple of hours alerted me he was on his way over.Emergency, one of the texts read. How nice of him to think ofmeas his emergency contact.

I grabbed the empty wine bottle, so I could bring it down to the recycling bin. Stepping through the stark room, I pretended to clean up the non-existent mess of nothingness as I stumbled to the doorway. My head spun. From the wine still lingering in my system, no doubt.

I tripped over my own two feet on the second step at the top of the landing. Gripping the railing as I slunk down little by little. Hashtag… drunk, divorced lady moments.

At the bottom of the steps, I lurched forward and unlatched the lock, pulling open the door. From the covered porch, Dave narrowed his eyes, his dark hair drenched with water. The rain continued to patter against the roof above us. Looks and demeanor wise, Dave always reminded me of Brad Majors fromRocky Horror Picture Show. You know, the guy with dark-hair and glasses who starts off as this straight edged, 1950’s style dude who proposes to his girlfriend out of duty and honor. Dave didn’t have the glasses, but he certainly played the part ofnice-guy-who-you-wouldn’t-expect-to-be-anything-elsevery well.

“Hey, uh, didn’t you see my messages?” Dave asked. He slipped through the opening and brushed past me, entering the foyer like he still owned the place.

No, Dave,I wanted to say.You got everything but the house, remember?

“Nope. Sorry. Didn’t see them.”

My back pressed against the door, pushing it in place until I heard the snap. Dave crossed his arms. My drunken brain utilized the dim light from the kitchen to analyze the man I’d once been married to. He stood about a foot taller than me, narrow shoulders. A straight nose accompanied with eyes that squinted at me like I knew absolutely nothing.

“God, Jem. I’ve been trying to call and text you for hours.” Without another word, he was on the move again, passing into the kitchen. I followed closely behind, irritation passively flowing through my core.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Dave dug through a kitchen drawer, fingers pushing pens and a box of paperclips off to the side. He snatched up a key which sat beneath a box of erasers.

“I got locked out of my parents,” he said. “They’re away… and I didn’t realize I didn’t have my key with me until I got back home tonight. Then it hit me. I never picked up the spare fromyou. Nice of you to say something, huh?” The gold key sparkled in the light as he dangled it in front of my face. That was right, the spare to his parent’s place where he was currently living. While all the furniture from my house sat in his storage unit.

Now, how on earth could I forget I had that damn key?

I wonder.

Dave added through thick words, “Thanks… it only took you all night to help me out.”

“I was writing.” Despite my intention of being a cold bitch, my words came out slurred and faint. Dave eyed the empty bottle in my right hand.

“Fuck. You’re smashed, aren’t you?” He opened his mouth and threw his hands up in the air. “You know…” He stopped, dropped his hands back down to his sides, and entertained me with a condescending smirk.

“You know,” he repeated, softer now, “best of luck to you, Jem. That’s all I’ve got to say about that.”

“You’ve always been a man of many words,” I said drily.

“And you’ve always been a cold, clueless woman.”

“Get out of my house.” My icy words stuck me, sharp pains of emptiness prickling at my sides.

“With pleasure.”

Chapter Fourteen

Divorce

I shut the door with a loud bang as Dave exited out into the damp night.

---