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I had lied and covered up everything again, to protect myself and the things dear to me. Not just things, but also the people I love and care about. Declan used to be on that list, but now he sought at every turn to hurt me.
My stomach cramped and I attempted to soothe it with my hand. Was it stress or was I hungry?When did I last eat?
My mind flashed on the unflattering picture Declan had left of me—the one labeled, “fat spoiled princess.” I walked over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, draining it. I was full.
My cellphone alerted me to a new text message, breaking through my negative thoughts as I reached inside my handbag. A trickle of fear went through me at the thought it might be Declan again, but instead I found a voicemail from Mary.
“Are you avoiding me? I’ve called and left messages. Did something else happen? I’m sorry I wasn’t as available during your visit to Boston as I wanted to be, but I’m done with finals and can come up next weekend to do whatever you want. I miss you. Please call me.”
I rubbed the center of my chest and sent a text reply.
I’m busy with work and everything. Sorry I haven’t phoned back. I can’t do next weekend. I’ll be in touch soon.
Kicking off my shoes, I stared at the kitchen island. I had forgotten to put away the two dry cleaning bags that were there. One contained the dress I stained from the gala, which I had paid for the cleaning on. The other one had a black Chanel suit I had seen Natasha wear to work on occasion. I spread my hand over her note, pinned to the front of one of the bags, and read the message for the fourth time this week.
I can’t fit these. You can have them. Natasha
I knew she could fit them, but it was as much of a peace offering as I would get. I couldn’t fault her. She had been right. I didn’t know what Declan would have done if he had found her here. And in good conscience, I couldn’t bring someone else here while he was still focused on punishing me. Not even Mary.
I exhaled long and sent a text to Natasha. Our goodbye.
I’m sorry for what happened. I hope you enjoy your new place and I wish you the best.
I didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, I just deleted her from my contact list. After all, we weren’t friends. We were acquaintances, at best. I wasn’t going to hear from her again.
My mood soured as I walked to my bedroom. The one place I used to look forward to returning to everyday had become the place I avoided. Nothing remained in here that I cared about, having carefully stored away all photos and videos that were left in my possession. The room was stripped down to the minimum. The taint of his theft was ever present, and I couldn’t stand to be in the room for longer than a few minutes.
Prickly heat broke out on my skin as I removed my clothing in the dark and dumped the various articles in the laundry. I picked up my T-shirt and sweatpants, along with the folded blanket and pillows I had left there in the morning, and quickly exited the room. Returning to the living room, I put together my bed—simply a sheet, blanket and pillow on the couch for sleeping. My new routine.
It was a routine I had created to get through my days. At dawn every day, I ran the same route Natasha used to take me on, along the boardwalk in Jersey City. During lunch, I ran for an hour at the corporate gym. And now, I planned to change into my T-shirt and sweats and workout until I exhausted my thoughts enough to fall asleep. My mind kept replaying the question of why I had gone to the police department and dropped the charges. Why I told the building I gave Declan the key. Why I wasn’t taking Dani, Ian, or Mary’s phone calls. Or the numerous ones left by the man I loved, Jonas Crane.
My heart constricted and my eyes watered over my avoidance. I turned on the TV to drown out my thoughts. Part of me didn’t want to hear their disappointment, though it was still evident in their voice messages. But in my heart I believed they had helped me enough, and I had to be strong and keep them safe until I found a way to rid Declan from my life completely.
As I slipped my T-shirt over my head, my phone chimed. I finished putting on my shirt, and walked over to the phone and frowned. Ian. Again. I was being cruel, my mind crowed. So, I decided to answer, if only so that I could give him the closure to let me go.
“Hello?”
“There you are.” Ian’s tone held a bit of sarcasm. “I thought I’d have to talk to the voicemail again.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said, as I balanced the phone on my shoulder and pulled on my sweatpants.
“Yes. I know. Diane said you dropped your restraining order.”
“I did,” I said, putting the sweatpants in place with one hand. “I didn’t want him arrested, and, well, I’m fine now. I doubt I’ll see him again. I’m considering moving back to Massachusetts.” Iwasconsidering it, as a backup if nothing turned around here. At least, that was what I told my conscience. “There are other publishing houses up there and I’d be close to my charity,” I offered in explanation.
“You don’t have tolieto get rid of me,” Ian said bluntly.
Bile rose in my throat, as his words stung me to the core. Lying was what I was known for now.
“I understand why you’re avoiding me,” Ian continued. “I am upset by your choice, but I had hoped we would be friends.”
I found a pair of socks and sat down on the couch to put them on. “Yes. Well, I’ve got a lot on my mind with work and everything.”
“I see,” Ian said, disappointment coating his words. “Well, if you ever change your mind and want to watch a movie or have dinner or something, give me a call.”
“I will. Thanks,” I said.
I won’t, I thought as I put on my sneakers.
