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"Doesn't matter how far you run, Tracie. In the end, you will be mine. And I always keep what is mine, little girl."
Never once did it occur to me to ask how my purse got out on the secretary's desk. I just grabbed it and ran for the elevator as fast as I could before I did something stupid like give into what he is asking me for. Or smack him again and this time in front of someone who could testify against me. Just the memory makes me angry.
I'm in a power struggle with him all the time and if I give in just a little bit, it will all be over. But will he still want me when I give him what he wants? Men like Reyn only chase after what doesn't come easily to them, because so much always does. If I sleep with him and give him what he wants will he still be around the next morning or will all the fun be gone then?
I hate that my one love affair has made me so cynical, maybe even paranoid. But it has and now every time I want to be close to someone I think about them using me or telling me how pretty and wonderful I am while they are throwing it to someone else. I can't live through another heartbreak like that.
I can look back now and realize I didn't really love the trust fund loser I was with, but I loved the idea that he represented. I loved the lie he let me believe. And that is what causes so much hurt still to this day. I wanted to be looked at and seen. I wanted to be taken care of and treated like I was special; like no one else was in the room. Instead, I was used and toyed with, and maybe my pride was hurt a little bit too. I wanted to be good enough on my own without my parents being the reason everyone liked or wanted to know me. It’s one of the reasons I don't want their name on my jewelry. I want something for myself and always have.
My phone rings and jerks me out of my Reyn stupor long enough to realize I have been sitting and thinking about him, and the past, for way too long. I wouldn't even answer the damned thing except I know that ring tone and I could really use a friend right about now.
"Hey sexy, make any men look stupid lately?" just the sound of Vera's voice and I find myself a lot calmer; funny how she can do that.
"Hey yourself, how is my favorite niece or nephew treating his momma?" I can't wait till the baby is here and I can play aunt to the little bundle of joy and squeeze its squishy little face.
"Stressin' this momma out. I think I've puked in almost every bathroom from home to the islands. I don't have any idea how Ed can still love me after watching a human projectile vomit so much at once."
"Maybe because it's his fault. He's the one that put the kid in you after all," I listen to her giggle and then hear Ed talking in the background about how sexy she is when she’s bent over the toilet even if she can't see it. Yeah, they're in total love with one another.
"How are things with you? Are you eating?"
"Why does everyone keep asking about whether I'm eating or not? Do I look too skinny or something?" I might have let something like dinner schedules go in the past when I was working on a design or just trying to bend the metal just right or socializing too much to eat. Okay, so I often forget to eat but that doesn't mean I need everyone telling me to do it, and snacking counts as eating.
"Who else is asking you about eating, Tracie?"
Oh shit, I've stepped in it now. Vera won't stop until I tell her who is asking after me and if I know her, and I do, she'll make Ed come back home early just so she can find out the details.
"There's this guy. He likes to try to tell me what to do and he may be reminding me that I have to eat regularly. But it's no big deal and I'm not talking about it anymore. So how is your trip? Spain, wow right."
"Oh my God, you have a boyfriend?" I cringe at the use of the word, but before I can tell her no she moves on with a hundred different questions. "Is it official? Do we know him? Is he an artist too? Is it serious? Why didn't you tell me?"
I hear the hurt in her voice on the last question and have to stop her.
"I don't have a boyfriend or anything else for that matter. In fact, I'm thinking about taking a break from men in general and I did tell you about him but you were so busy getting knocked up by my other best friend that you probably don't remember. ‘He’ is the difficult client who drove me crazy and that one night, when Ed was away, we agreed you would have slapped the shit out of him too if he was being that big of an ass to you."
"Oh my God," I was going to have to teach Vera some other catchphrases, this was like the third 'oh my God', "He's the one you slapped!?"
"Yeah," still wasn't proud of that moment and she didn't even know I had done it twice.
"He calls you still? I thought you were done with his order?"
"I was. Am. I am done with him."
"But he still calls you? And tells you to eat?" the pitch in her voice rises as she tries to make sense of everything. It doesn't make sense and never will as far as I can tell.
"He's just an overblown, arrogant ass who thinks he can tell me what to do and when to do it. Like I would listen to him. I don't even like this guy and he comes around and makes me so mad I could just scream. He doesn't do anything I tell him to do. He annoys me to no end. I can't stand him!"
Silence greets my rant and I wait for my best friend to say something.
"I've never heard you so worked up about anybody before. Are you sure it’s just hate that you feel?"
"Ugh, don't try to get into my head and do your writer thing on me. Of course its hate. He just isn't used to someone telling him no and when I did, it threw him all in a tizzy. He can't just expect everyone to bow down before him and give him whatever he wants just because he is super hot and perfect."
"He's hot? How hot?" I swear the pregnancy hormones are talking to me through Vera.
"He's...beautiful. His skin is the color of a perfectly toasted marshmallow, golden and cinnamony, like caramel. He's tall, and for me to say that you know how tall he has to be. The guy is almost six-ten I'm almost sure of it. And he has the most bewitching gray eyes I've ever seen. They can convey so much with just the color. If he's upset they're all dark and cold and if he's not they tend to be like melted silver."
"Wow, you are so fucked."
