I used to plot it every night.
“Nothing very interesting. Some people bought a house in another country and had lost it due to…” I stop myself from saying the words ‘civil unrest’ because he would accuse me of sounding too intellectual. He’d be furious, like I’m acting above him again. “Due to war. It was like, just really crazy over there.” I wave it away.
He smirks, “People don't know what the fuck they’re doing. They’re so fucking dumb. Why buy a house in another country anyway? What’s wrong with this country?” He chuckles and shakes his head, scarfing the sandwich in the most unattractive way.
Everybody thinks he’s hot.
I did once, too.
Dirty-hot, I used to call him to the friends I used to have.
We’re not far from Hells Kitchen where most of the gay bars are. Victor enjoys telling me how much he’s whistled at when he walks down those streets. He tells me the dirty things they whisper to him every time he walks by. It used to make me jealous. Then I realized that was his aim. And I felt confused.
“I missed you,” I say out of habit. “I get bored here all alone.”
His fingers run a soft caress down my cheek. “I missed you, too.” He hands me my sandwich I wouldn’t dare touch without him offering it. “Why aren’t you eating? I’m already done.” Unwrapping it for me, Victor breaks off the bite of my turkey and avocado sandwich, and offers it to me. I eat from his hand. He doesn’t do this often, and I know it’s a bad sign.
Nausea spins as the feeding continues. It happens a little faster so I have to chew as quickly as I can in order to make room for the next bite. His eyes grow intense. The hairs raise on my neck again. I swallow hard, wishing I had some water. This bread is so dry. They didn’t put enough mayonnaise on it. I’ll have to ask them to make sure they do that next time. Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget.
Victor wipes his fingers on my shirt and tugs it up. I’m chewing and swallowing as he unzips my pants and flips me around. I don’t know if you can call it rape because I’m not telling him to stop. It would just get worse if I did. He so rarely does this anyway. I can survive it, I can survive it, I can survive it.
He zips up, “I needed that. You ever just need to fuck to release some steam?”
It’s like hearing someone speaking from a parallel universe that you don’t belong in.
I nod because I know I have to.
My daughter needs my strength.
He’s not always like this.
Victor’s just had a bad day at work. He didn’t have the good parents I had. His luck has been bad. He tries, he tries, he tries.
“You wanna watch a movie?” His voice is gentle and loving again. “We could watch anything you want. I’ll even sit through a girly flick and not complain.” His winning smile flashes and I hang onto it for dear life.
“That would be great. Let me get Celia and she can watch it with us.”
He laughs, “She’s only five months old, Stacy. She can’t watch TV yet. But bring her in. Can’t hurt since we’re watching one of your stupid romcoms. You get her while I clean up here.”
As we’re watching one of my favorite brain candy films, the heroine smiles at the handsome hero, and his face is replaced by Tonk’s.
Tonk…the type of guy I never would’ve looked twice at before. He’s pretty-boy handsome, dresses like he’s going for a job interview, except for the bracelets. There’s not a drop of darkness in his soul.
I was always a good girl.
Dark shadows enthralled me.
Now I want to live with light.
But it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m stuck here.
Stuck, stuck, stuck.
As Vik picks Celia up and puts her on his lap, fear slithers into my heart.
If he hurts me and says he loves me, then why would she be exempt?
Exempt.
Another word I could never use here.
“You watching the movie? Why are you looking at me?”
“I was just thinking how that guy is not very cute.”
Victor sneers, “He’s a jackass. There’s no way those two would ever be together in real life. She’s gorgeous. Look at her fucking body. It’s like yours used to be. She would never go for a wimp like him. Girls don’t want a guy like that.”
He touches our daughter’s face, then drops his hand on my knee and goes back to watching the movie.
When we go to bed we have sex again. I’m a receptacle. He pumps away until he’s finished, which doesn’t take long.
It was only after a series of instances, that I realized I might be in an abusive relationship.
Then I found out I was pregnant.
I’ve no idea exactly what day things turned toward a direction I never ever wanted, but I know that when it happened, I denied it, and stuck my head in the proverbial sand.
Proverbial.
He would hate that word, too.
CHAPTER 6
T ONK JR.
A t the base of a stone staircase on the eastern edge of Morningside Park I wait by the iron Faun and Bear sculpture. It stands about seven feet tall, a curious bear overlooking the edge of a rock at a faun, half-man half-goat tucked delicately away below.
I’ve been friends with this silent duo for a week now, every day at 3:00 so I wouldn’t miss her if Stacy decided to show early.
Now I feel as though she won’t. Ever.
“I should have followed her home,” I mutter for the hundredth time. “I was so in the moment that it didn’t occur to me.”
Especially after she asked me to leave. Of course I wouldn’t think to sneak around and stalk her.
This is why I never made a
