I grabbed the bat and began whaling on him—his head, his back, his legs, his arms. I swung as hard as I could and beat him mercilessly with it anywhere I could reach. The cheating coward alternated between running from me and advancing on me to try to stop me. The only reason I finally did stop was because the hard plastic bent and then broke, rendering it useless.
Then the hockey stick caught my eye, and I made a mad dash to grab it off the wall. He beat me to it, though, and held it behind his back with one arm, the other arm stretched out fully in front of him with his hand up, telling me to stop. This is where the blindness starts to fade and I begin to realize where I am again.
“Layne.” His eyes beg me. “I’m so sorry. Please hear me out.”
His words stop me dead in my tracks, and I feel like I’m literally seeing him for the first time. He’s average height with blond hair and blue eyes. He obviously hits the gym several days a week, but he’s not overly muscular. When he flashes it, he has a beautiful smile that lights up his face and brightens his eyes.
My heart clenches in my chest as scenes over the last seven years flash through my eyes. He was my first everything—my first serious boyfriend, my first love, and my first sexual experience. He was the only one who believed in me when I started this journey to being a lawyer. Dual enrollment in high school gave me an early start on my degree. Taking summer classes limited the amount of time I had for fun, but it allowed me to graduate earlier than most. Bobby was my constant and steady force throughout that entire time.
And all that, for what?
He mistakes my silence for willingness to listen to his pitiful excuses.
“What have I done?” he asks rhetorically, his eyes moving quickly around the room. His voice cracks on the last word and sorrow glistens in his eyes. “Shit, Layne, what have I done to us?”
“Simple. You’ve killed us, Bobby. There is no us anymore,” I reply.
The anguish on his face is real. “This isn’t what I want, Layne. I want you.”
“You should’ve thought about that roughly three months ago. Before you fucked her. Before you impregnated her. While you were trying to impregnate me.”
My tears are flowing freely now and I don’t bother to wipe them away. One immediately follows the previous one, falling so quickly that there’s no use in trying to stop them. The shock and disbelief of finding them are beginning to wear off, and the pain in my chest is becoming overwhelming. It steals my breath and I clench at my chest with my hand, trying to soothe the pain underneath.
Bobby, seeing my anguish, takes a step toward me, but the look in my eyes tells him to stay back.
“Don’t ever come around me again. I never want to see either of you again as long as I live.” I manage to keep my voice strong as I simultaneously issue an underlying threat and convey my disgust with them. “You deserve each other.”
I turn to leave and block out Bobby’s voice behind me. He first yells how much he loves me and begs me not to leave like this. The roar in my ears, the scorching, white-hot pain in my chest, and my own strangled sobs I’m trying desperately to hold back drown out his continued pleas. I hear Cyndi’s cries of disbelief as she tries to remind Bobby that he loves her. But he ignores her and drowns out her voice with his own. It’s all too much to deal with at once and I feel my senses shutting down from the overload. I’m short-circuiting.
I don’t remember the cab ride back to my apartment. I don’t remember walking into my building, past the doorman and the security desk. I don’t remember getting into my apartment. The alternating ringing of my landline and my cell phone brings me out of my stupor. A quick glance at my caller ID shows Bobby has been calling repeatedly for the past hour. An hour that I don’t even remember being here.
After I unplug the phone, I start to turn off my cell phone and notice I have ten voicemails from Bobby. I just can’t deal with them right now, so I turn off my phone and crawl into my bed. It’s still early Saturday, barely even noon, but I don’t leave my bed until I have to get ready for work Monday morning. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I’m not sure how I’ll pull off this look today. I’m relatively new and still very concerned with making a good impression.
Visine drops help tame my bloodshot eyes, makeup expertly applied hides the red splotches, and my hair is styled with my bangs swept to the side, long and partially covering my face. As long as I don’t have to look anyone in the eye, speak to anyone, or interact with any personal contact whatsoever, I should be fine. I just have to make it through today, tomorrow, this week, this month…
I don’t know how to do this.