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“Looks like we’re good,” I tell her.
“I only had a little bit earlier, but I definitely want more. Do you want to eat dinner together after this?”
“Yeah, I do. Thank you for cooking. You really don’t have to do iteveryday. I can pick us up takeout or something for a change.”
Selena shrugs and goes back to hanging up some glittery silver ornaments on the tree. “I need something to keep me busy.”
I nod at her, understanding all too well. Then we resume decorating the tree together, Christmas music playing in the background, the two of us a little bit quieter and less giggly than we had been at the supermarket.
I just like the way Selena’s face glows from the lights of the Christmas tree. I like how it feels like I’m doing an actual Christmas tradition for once. I know Selena and I aren’t romantic with each other, but if she were my girlfriend, this would be one hell of a romantic evening.
When we sit down for dinner later, we quietly sip our chicken noodle soup, made completely from scratch.
Selena’s feet are up on her chair, her knees tucked into her as she bends over them to eat her dinner. She keeps looking at me every so often, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking.
“So, how are you doing with everything?” I ask her.
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, I guess I just want to know what your plan is. Do you have one?”
I have no idea how long Selena plans on staying at my rental with me—it’s not exactly a question I’ve brought up yet. But we have to figure it out at some point. The longer she stays here, the harder I feel like it’s going to be to let her leave.
“I’m just not ready,” she tells me. “But I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.”
I nod at her and sip my soup some more.
“Are you really ever going to be ready, though?” I ask her. “Is anybody?”
She lets her soup spoon fall into the soup bowl. “What are you trying to say?”
I grip my spoon tighter in my hand. “I was just thinking… Maybe it’s time you finally come forward about writing that post.”
We had worked together to figure out how to come forward about Derek’s attacks. Selena had made it very clear that she was too afraid to come out and talk about it herself, so I was the one who told her she could make an anonymous post, and not reference herself as Derek’s wife. She could just say she was one of his ex-girlfriends. Both of us had no doubt that he’d been abusive in his previous relationships also.
Selena’s face falls, and it makes my heart sink. “I don’t know what will happen to me if I do that,” she explains. “I don’t know if Icando it. I thought you understood that.”
“So… what? You’re just gonna live here in my rental until I have to go back to LA, then you’re gonna find some other person’s house to hide out in? Become homeless? Change your name and move to a different country? I mean, come on, Selena.” I’m not trying to get so worked up, but I can’t help it. I’m not even sure why. But right now, it doesn’t feel like it’s because of my job.
Selena sighs and pushes her bowl away like she’s done eating.
“You don’t have to stop eating. I’m sorry if I’m upsetting you.”
She looks away from me and doesn’t respond.
But then, sitting there and staring at her, my blood slightly boiling, it hits me. The reason why I’m so worked up.
“I need to ask you to do something,” I begin.
She clenches her jaw when she looks back at me. “I’m not going to admit that I wrote that post, Kenny.”
I shake my head and lick my lips. “Not that. Although, I really think you should,” I say. “I’m asking you, as a friend, as someone who cares a great deal about you even though I really don’t know you that well, to leave Derek Heed. File for divorce. Get a restraining order. Get out of that marriage, and get away from him. As far away as possible. I know you can do it. I know it’s scary, and you don’t know what’s going to happen, but anything, I promise you, is better than being stuck in a marriage with a man who hurts you.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting her to say in return, but I definitely wasn’t expecting her to burst into sobs.
Selena pushes her chair back so quickly that it nearly falls over, then she dashes into her bedroom and closes the door.
I sit there at the table, still clenching my spoon, my heart pounding in my ears.
