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Sylvie looked into Gator’s eyes, seeing the genuine concern he had for her. “Thank you, Gator.”
Then it occurred to him…
“You know Bruno?” he asked, surprised that she would know an undercover cop who hadn’t been in town for long.
Sylvie hesitated for a moment, then opened the door wider to let him in. “I knowofBruno,” she said. “How about we go inside and talk?”
They settled into the cozy living room; the soft glow of the sun through the curtained window cast a warm light on their surroundings. As Sylvie recounted what had happened with her and Marvin, Gator listened intently trying to understand how someone like Marvin could have such a hold over someone like her who always had such a strong and determined personality.
“Sylvie, I’m not quite sure how to ask this... but...” Gator hesitated, searching for the right words.
She echoed the sentiment she had shared with him years ago when he was a child. “It's the little things that kill you.”
“What?” Gator was confused.
“You were going to ask how I’ve become like this?” She spread her hands before him. “The person who can shatter at the utterance of a few words from someone she doesn’t even love?”
Gator nodded silently.
“It’s just as I said, Gator. The little things... that’s what destroys you. They strip you of everything you are. Your heart, your soul, your faith, your hope... your very will to live.” Her voice trembled with emotion.
Gator hadn’t felt so near to tears since the day he discovered she was leaving him as a child. His heart ached for her; the pain almost tangible.
“I could kill that motherfucker,” he said through gritted teeth.
“So could I,” she whispered.
“No, really,” Gator insisted. “I really could kill him.”
Sylvie didn’t even flinch at his words. He could see that, deep down, if Marvin was dead, she might finally have a chance to start living. However, after a few moments, she spoke up. “If that ever happened, he’d win. He’d win like he always has.”
Gator realized there was much more to her story, including how she had come to know of Bruno, but that conversation could wait for another day. For now, all he wanted was to give her what she truly needed...someone who would listen, empathize, and understand…without judgment.
9
When she startedto tell him how she finally managed to break up with Marvin, Gator looked at Sylvie with a mixture of confusion and concern etched on his face. “How in the hell did you manage to do that?” he asked her in disbelief.
Sylvie shook her head sadly, her eyes staring off into the distance as she remembered the past. “I was still trying to figure what to do at the time,” she replied in a voice filled with bitterness. “By then, I was a shadow of myself…no confidence. I’d lost the will to carry on. I hadn’t realized what was happening until it was almost too late.”
A dark expression crept over her face as she continued. “He hurt me, humiliated me…even spread lies about me to my friends and family. I was afraid they were starting to believe him. My best friend from when I was young…”
“Chelsea,” he said.
“Yeah, Chelsea. Even she started believing him and not me. I had no one to talk to…at least that’s what I thought. He had control over me, like some kind of puppeteer. It was only when my father stepped in that I managed to escape his grasp.”
“Your father?” She nodded. “What did he do?”
Sylvie’s voice grew quiet as she recalled the day. “He nearly died.”
“Because of Marvin?” Gator’s shoulders were up, and he had his fists balled without realizing it.
Sylvie placed her hand on his, and said, “No. Hey, you want a beer or something?”
“No thanks. Why?”
She smiled. “You look like you want to bust someone up.”
“Tell me about it. The motherfucker’s lucky he’s not here right now. Hearing you tell me what you’ve been through, I’m not sure I could control myself.”
