At the time, we had nothing but love between us, or so I thought. I worked at the mall selling cosmetics, and Joey worked construction. Every Friday we’d go out for dinner and then dancing. We both loved to dance and spent many weekends in downtown nightclubs, drinking and dancing the night away. “You're so much fun when you drink,” he would say, his all-time favorite line.
Some people have innocent fun when they drink and become the life of the party… giddy, happy drunks. Not Joey. When Joey drank, his mood darkened, and he became possessive. When Joey got drunk, he became mean—nasty mean, dangerously mean. In his fits of jealous rage, I would duck and dodge as he hurled toasters and knives through the air. In his darkest times, he would threaten me, marking his territory and anger all over my body. In the middle of summer, I had no choice but to wear long-sleeved shirts to hide the deep purple bruises that covered my arms.
Our relationship ended with one final blow to my head. I had blacked out and was rushed to the hospital one cold, winter night. His balled-up fist coming straight at my face was the last I ever saw of him.
At times, when I focus on the scar in the mirror, marking my face, I’m reminded of a relationship gone bad. Even though it had happened long ago, I haven’t been able to trust men and their motives fully. After that one and a few other failed relationships, my faith in men had been tainted.
“Hey, you okay,” I heard Cindy say off in the distance.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I said, massaging my forehead.
“You were in another zone, completely checked out of our conversation.”
“Sorry, flashback,” I got up from the sofa and drifted to the kitchen for a glass of water.
“Don’t you just hate those?”
Cindy didn’t know about Joey or my past, and I was too tired and ashamed to share. I always hated to think of myself as an abused victim.
“Did you at least send him a text to thank him for the flowers?”
“No, didn’t have a chance as I was slammed at work.”
“Well, personally, I wouldn’t let a guy who looks like that slip away so fast.”
How does she know what he looks like? She’s never met him.
“How do you know what he looks like?” I asked perplexed.
“I googled him.”
“You googled him? Why?”
“I don’t know, curious, I guess.”
I paused for a moment and stared at the TV.
“So what exactly does he do at Lemon Export? Export lemons?” She laughed.
“You mean Limón.” Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “It’s pronounced like this, ‘lee’ and ‘mon’… together.”
“Whatever.”
“Sales, from his title.”
At one a.m., Cindy was wide awake and trying to keep the conversation going. But at that point, I wanted to be alone, listen to some meditation music, and drift off to sleep.
As I entered my bedroom, I unclasped my necklace and walked over to my dresser. Draping my butterfly pendant over my open jewelry box, I glanced down and saw David's business card inside.
Cindy must have been snooping around my room while I was gone. That’s so unlike her, I had thought. Why the sudden interest in my life and the men I'm dating?
4
David
I stand in the living room, swirling a glass of Merlot, admiring the toucan on my wall. I think back to the day when I took the photo, recalling the moments leading up to the shot. I had that beautiful bird eating out of the palm of my hand. Mango, if I remember correctly.
I reflect on this past weekend. I almost had Val eating from my hand—almost had her where I wanted her. But instead of us enjoying a lazy Sunday together, she flew the coop.
Taking a long sip of wine, I savor the flavor in my mouth. The fruity sweetness zaps me back to the present moment.
A day has passed, and no word from Val. I'm sure she’s received the flowers I sent. I tracked the order, so I know they were delivered. I hope I didn't cause any trouble for her at the hotel as I had no other place to send them.
Should I call or maybe text her? Or will she think I'm stalking her again? That’s the strange thing about women, if you come on too strong, you're accused of harassment. If you wait a day or two, they think you've lost interest. Such beautiful but complicated beings they are.
But not my Val, she can be trained. I saw it the moment I looked into her eyes—her big, beautiful hazel eyes. They mesmerize me. Behind her eyes shines a bright, beautiful soul. I need her. I need light in my life to wash away the darkness.
I never intended to go to the dark side; the dark side found me. One taste was all it took. One enchanted evening my interest was piqued by a world unknown to me. It soon became my obsession. From the moment I awoke until the wee hours of the morning, I was consumed. I couldn't get enough. I had to know more. Deeper and deeper, I searched, absorbing the information. I never knew such things existed, hiding in plain sight. Some days it was too hard to take. It was all too consuming. There are things I wish I had never seen, never stumbled upon. But now it's too late. Pandora's box had been opened.
I need something to ease the pain. Rather, someone. I need someone real—someone I can hold onto, someone who is pure and full of light.
Val.
Beyond the light she holds inside, I feel she’s hiding a deep, emotional pain from the past. I sense she's been hurt before, and afraid to trust again, but she can trust me. I'm a man to be trusted. This time it will be different. I'm ahead of the curve. I am more prepared. Yes, that's the word, prepared. I've done my research.
