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Violet
I cried uncontrollably last night and woke up this morning, determined not to shed another tear over Dante. My heart may be torn to shreds inside my chest, but that doesn’t mean I have to show it on the outside.
Instead, I take my time getting ready for class, doing everything I can to look my best on the outside. I even attempt a heavier makeup look than I usually sport, though I’m not sure of the results. It’s a little thick and feels almost like a mask, but maybe that will keep the world from seeing the broken shards of my heart that have been left inside me.
In the back of my closet I find a bright green dress that Hollie once convinced me to buy, but I’ve never been bold enough to wear out. It’s a cute cap-sleeved, A-line dress, but I’ve always found the vee at the neck a little too low and the skirt a little too short. If I did wear it out, it certainly wouldn’t have been to school, but I’m feeling bold today. I slip the dress over my head and immediately rethink my decision when I’m reminded of just how short it is. Instead of taking it off, I dig through my dresser for a pair of thick black tights and pull them on. There we go, colorful and sexy but not showing anything I don’t want to be seen. After finishing my outfit with some knee-high boots, my peacoat, and a matching green scarf, I’m ready to face the day. That’s what I’ll keep telling myself.
I take one last look in the entryway mirror, and my eyes fall to the book pendant that’s hanging between my breasts. My eyes well with tears, but I sternly remind myself that I’m not crying any longer and blink them away. I gingerly touch the necklace. I’ve only taken it off a few times since Dante gave it to me months ago. I reach behind my neck to undo the clasp but then lower my hands back down to my sides. I can’t. I’m not ready to take it off yet.Baby steps.
As I’m walking through campus, I stop off at one of the job boards. There’s no way I can work for Dante any longer, so I’m going to have to find something new to supplement my income. The money I made at Moreno Construction was more than generous, so I have enough to carry me through until I secure another part-time gig.
I’m surprised to find that I’ll actually miss working for the company. It wasn’t just Dante that made me enjoy the job. I really liked the other guys that I got to deal with, like Jake and Adrian. I also enjoyed feeling like an integral part of the company. Being relied on to keep things running smoothly gave me a sense of purpose I was lacking in my life. I love literature, but with no real end goal in mind for what I was going to do with my degree, it feels a lot like I’m just treading water. At Moreno Construction I served a purpose. It was exciting when we finished the Kamber Street project on time, and I’m sad that I won’t be able to feel that sense of satisfaction again.
I guess it’s time to really think about what I’m going to do with my life. Wanting to be a mom is great, but I have no real prospective husbands on the horizon, and I need to be able to support myself. Plus, I would never be comfortable depending solely on a man for my income. I’ve seen too many women in my mother’s circle lose their husbands to other women, then be left with nothing.
I pull out my phone and take pictures of a few of the job flyers that seem like they might be tolerable and decide that I’ll start calling around tomorrow. I don’t think I have the bandwidth to handle it today. The next thing I do is call the English department and make an appointment with my adviser. Maybe he can help me figure out what I should do with this literature degree I’m sitting on and the master’s degree that’s coming.
Ialmosttext my mother and ask her to set me up with one of Dad’s associates but come to my senses just in time. I’m not that desperate yet.
I recognize that I’m probably doing all these things at once to keep my mind off the loss of Dante, but all I can do is move forward, one foot in front of the other, and hope that eventually I’ll come through the other side.
When I finally make it to my class and take a seat, the professor is just starting his lecture. I take out my laptop, my hands poised and ready to take notes.
Two hours later, I look down and realize class is over and I haven’t written a single thing. My head is in the clouds. I probably should’ve called this day a wash. I’ve checked my phone at least a hundred times, telling myself it’s definitely not to see if Dante’s reached out, yet every time there’s nothing from him a little part of me dies.
He made it pretty clear, by not sticking up for me or our relationship, how he felt about us, and when I ran out, telling him I was too good for him, well, I’m sure that was the final nail in the coffin.
At least I still have Bianca. I’m unbelievably lucky that she’s forgiven me so easily and so quickly. I feel bad for ever doubting that she would be anything less than understanding and supportive.
On the way home, I debate picking up some things so I can bake but decide against it. I don’t feel like I have the energy for it today. Besides, who would eat it anyway? The only person who ever seemed to enjoy what I made was Dante. Though I kind of hope he chokes on the brownies I left there last night. Maybe he gave some to Amanda and she’ll get food poisoning. A girl can dream.
Once I get home, I call out for Bianca and get no response. I look at the clock on the wall and remember that her work schedule should have her home in a few hours. I should have stalled on campus until I knew she would be here. Being alone with my thoughts is not something I’m looking forward to.
Grabbing a glass of wine from the kitchen, I settle onto the couch and start surfing the many streaming platforms we have, to find something to watch. After rejecting the first few dozen things that have come across the screen, my phone buzzes from its place on the coffee table, and I absentmindedly pick it up, assuming it’s Bianca asking if I want her to bring home takeout or something.
Dante:I’m so sorry about everything that happened yesterday. There are things I need to say to you if you’ll just give me the chance. All I’m asking is for you to listen to what I have to say. That’s it. Can I come over to your place tonight around 8?
I realize I’ve stopped breathing only when I gasp for air. My heart is audibly pounding in my chest. It’s a text I both hoped for and feared all day. My entire being is shouting at me to respond to him and tell him to come over now, that we can work this out. The only thing holding me back is my fear of getting hurt again.
The text doesn’t mention what he wants to say. Of course, I hope he apologizes, falls to his knees, and begs me to stay with him forever, but what’s the likelihood of that happening? Maybe he just wants to end things cleanly so that there’s no awkwardness between us. Maybe he wants to say, “Hey, it’s been fun, but it’s time to move on.” My fear and anxiety of the unknown keeps me immobile for a good long while.
Finally, I realize I can’t hide from him. This isn’t some guy I can blow off and never see again. This is Bianca’s father, and since I plan on having her in my life forever, that means he’ll be there too, at least on the periphery. Besides that, he’s the only man I’ve ever loved, and if I want to move on, closure is probably the best thing. That’s the adult in me talking. The scared little kid wants to smash the phone with a hammer and hide under the bed for the next three or four years.
I don’t really understand why he wants to come over at eight. Shouldn’t he just come here now and get this entire thing over with, good or bad? I guess it doesn’t matter, it just means I’ll be sitting here in my anxiety for hours to come. At least it’s only another hour or so before Bianca gets home. Maybe she’ll know what Dante wants to talk about and I can pump her for information, so I’ll know what to expect.
I’m not sure how to respond, so I eventually just send him an “Okay” to confirm our meeting. I don’t get any other texts from him after that, so there’s nothing to do but wait. I go back to searching for something to watch and eventually settle onThe Officereruns, the US version and not the UK one. David Brent is just too mean for me. I’ll take a clueless but earnest Michael Scott any day of the week.
After binging three episodes, there’s a knock on the door. I guess Dante couldn’t wait for our chat either. My hands are sweating, and I wipe them down the skirt of my dress. My legs are surprisingly shaky as I make my way through the living room and to the door. With a deep breath, I open the door, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.
What I wasn’t prepared for was who was standing on the other side of the door.
“Tyler,” I gasp. I thought he looked a little disheveled the last time I saw him. Now, he looks absolutely unhinged. His hair is dirty and unkempt. There are stains covering the front of his shirt that’s been misbuttoned. If I’m not mistaken, he’s wearing the outfit I saw him in days ago. It doesn’t look like he’s shaved since then either. But what’s really scary is the look in his eyes. I’ve never seen that look before. It’s cold and hard and sends a shiver running through my body. I immediately sense that I’m in danger and swiftly swing the door closed right in his face.
Except, that’s not what happens. Instead of latching, the door busts out back toward me and bounces off the center of my face. Pain shoots through my entire head, and I’m momentarily stunned as Tyler pushes his way inside.
“What? You weren’t going to invite me in?” His tone is dark, and for the first time in my life I really feel true fear. There’s moisture on my chin, and I run my fingers through it, then pull them away to see that I’m bleeding.
“What do you want, Tyler?” I try to sound brave, like I’m not scared of him, but I know that I’m failing miserably.
