by Hart, Cary
“Let’s go.” Nina turns around and throws a few more things into the duffle bag. My eyes stay locked on her movements, ignoring the desperate man in front of us.
“Oh God! Penny … I need you. I have always needed you.” Tyler falls to his knees.
My stomach begins to churn, and the bile is bubbling for release. My heart races with anticipation. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hang on to each and every word.
“Don’t leave me. I promise you, I will get help. I’ll fix us.”
Eyes springing open, shocked at his admission, I turn without giving it a second thought.
His confession—my sin, my guilt.
The man bowing before me is unidentifiable. I have threatened to leave before, but never like this. Before they were empty. Today they’re filled with promises of the end.
His truth, my weakness. His profession, my strength to give it just one more try.
Standing here, before the man I once loved, and if I were to be honest, still do. I wonder how many chances do you give someone before you lose yourself?
I know I’m in here somewhere. Frozen, but not numb.
“Penny, I promise.” Our eyes meet. His eyes red rimmed and swollen. “Whatever it takes, baby.”
“Hell no! This is not happening, Penny,” Nina blurts out, breaking our contact. “Kyle, get us out of here.” She throws the bag over her shoulder and reaches for my hand. “This is desperation, not love.” She pulls me past Tyler. Kyle following.
“God dammit, Penny!” Tyler screeches causing me to look over my shoulder as they pull me closer to the door and farther from the only man that has ever loved me. “Don’t you fucking leave me. Don’t you fucking dare!” Tyler jumps up, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “PENNY!”
“A few more steps and I promise you everything will be okay,” Nina assures me.
“If you walk out that door. I will find you. You don’t get to leave me.” He stalks toward us, but Kyle turns ready to take him on and shouts, “Get her out of here and call nine-one-one.”
“Fucking fine.” His fists tighten at his sides, eyes wide as we reach the door. “This isn’t over, Penny. Not by a long shot.”
“Oh, it’s over!” Kyle doesn’t look back as he pushes us out and slams the door behind us. “Get in! We have to get her out of here.”
Falling into the backseat, I let Nina, who is visibly shaken, comfort me. Soothing me with her understanding. But does she? Does she truly understand what I’m going through because right now I can’t help but feel like I’m the guilty one.
Guilty … because I stayed.
“Penny?” I feel a hand on my shoulder and I practically jump out of my skin.
“Oh my God.” I bend over to catch my breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The memory too fresh and the feelings too raw. “Oh shit! I’m sorry.” Shapiro bends, offering me a hand.
“It’s okay.” I look around, before I rise, wiping my palms on my yoga pants. “Do you care if I go to bed? I’m kind of exhausted and honestly …” I lift my duffle bag. “I need to take inventory of what I left with.”
“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I put a couple extra pillows and a blanket on the bed.”
“Thanks.”
“I thought—”
“What time—” we say in unison.
“You first.” He gives me an awkward smile.
“What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
He chuckles. “I was just going to say I thought I would let you sleep in. So maybe around noon?”
“Sounds good.”
I try to give him the same smile back, but I fall short.
“If you need anything, just holler.”
“Will do.”
Shifting the bag into the other hand, I make my way to the bedroom and close the door. Unable to take my eyes off the knob, my mind swirls with thoughts.
Do I lock it?
What does that say, if I lock it? That I don’t trust the man who is trying to protect me from Tyler’s threats? Yet, if I keep it unlocked what if he takes that as an invitation?
I hate that Tyler did this to me. The doubt that creeps in my head because of something he did. He isn’t all men and I hope to God not all men are him.
I release the handle, backing away until my legs hit the foot of the bed and I collapse, exhausted from the whirlwind that has become my life.
Staring up at the ceiling, I try to let sleep take me under, but it doesn’t come. For the past five years I have slept in the same bed, with the same person, every single night or for the ones he came home.
Feeling anxious, I decide to dump the contents of the duffle out on the bed in search of night clothes and a toothbrush. Hoping, if I get a little more comfortable, I can shake these nerves.
Placing my hand on the handle, I barely twist it and crack the door. I’m not sure why I’m doing this. He said if I needed anything to just holler. So, why not go out there and do exactly that?
Mentally, I’m banging my head against the door, but physically, I pull the door open a little wider to see where Shapiro is, but instead of seeing him locking up or heading to bed, he walks to the couch with a blanket and pillow in hand.
“You’re sleeping on the couch?”
Shapiro turns to me. “Yeah, it’s only a one-bedroom apartment. The other is used as an office.”
“I said that out loud?” I pull the door wider.
“Yeah.” He looks around. “You want to join me?”
Join him? On the couch? In the bed?
“Oh shit. I didn’t mean in the bed or even on the couch.” He smacks his forehead. “I do mean on the couch, but I was just going to unwind and binge watch some TV.”
This is where I should turn around and lock the door, change and go to bed. Watching TV with a man, never leads to anything good. There are always expectations.
With Tyler.
I try to remind myself, that Tyler isn’t here. This isn’t about him. This is about me and the realization that what we had wasn’t normal.
What is normal? Watching TV with a friend is normal, right?
Worrying my lip between my teeth, I contemplate what to do. I can sit in my room. Alone. Or I can force the memories of Tyler from my mind and watch TV. Be normal.
Because the way I was with Tyler wasn’t, he made me into who he wanted me to be, someone different. The change was so gradual, I didn’t even realize it was happening. Until it was too late. Until I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
Not realizing I was already halfway toward the couch. I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “I really should get some sleep. Who knows what the next couple days will bring.”
“Suit yourself.”
Turning on my heel, I head back to the bedroom and start to close the door just as the familiar music catches my attention.
Wait! Is that …
Flinging the door open, I’m shocked at what is before my eyes. Shapiro, who screams everything man, is stretched out on the couch in a black tee and plaid pajama bottoms watching an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy?
I’m still figuring out who I am, and that will take time. But right now, I want to watch TV and not be alone. So, I take a risk and take the first step away from the ghosts of my past and toward the me I want to be.
“You need something?” My outburst must have grabbed his attention, and his question interrupts my thoughts.
“Are you seriously going to watch that?” Surely, he’s joking.
“Yes?” he replies sounding unsure.
“Grey’s Anatomy? McDreamy?”
“They do call him that don’t they.” He stuffs his mouth full of popcorn and turns up the volume.
Why can’t I ignore this? Just turn back around? Why? Why? Why?
“You must Netflix a lot, huh?”
Netflix a lot? I’m so stupid.
I knew this was a bad idea. I’m such an idiot.
He picks up the remote to pause
the show before he answers. “Why do you say that?”
“Grey’s Anatomy. That’s why. Did you watch all the action, documentaries and comedies?”
“Nope.”
“You wanted to be a doctor growing up?” I ask as I walk around the couch, sitting on the edge. He’s such a contradiction.
“Oh hell no.”
“Then what?”
“Did you catch the part where I grew up with women?”
“No, I caught that, but I would think that would make you watch everything man-ish before something like this.”
He watched shows they chose? Like he actually gave them a say? The more I’m away from Tyler, the more I realize how messed up things were.
Not only did we never watch what I wanted, I rarely watched TV without him. He said the things I wanted to watch were a waste of time, that I had more important things to do.
What he really meant, was be available to him at all times. In the rare instance he let me pick the show or movie, he expected more than I was willing to give. At some point, I just stopped asking.
Shivering at the memories, I block them out and focus my attention back on Shapiro and his kind smile.
“Um … I like their music.” He winks and turns to press play.
He likes the music?
He likes the music.
Taking a deep breath, I sit back farther on the couch, my legs curling under me. If things get uncomfortable I can always excuse myself. This is me, learning to be normal. Remembering how to be me.
Watching TV, with a friend. Someone who is safe, helping me out. I can do this.
Leaning forward, I grab the remote and press pause. “The music? Really?”
“Nah.” He lets out a chuckle. “My older sister, who is actually only older by a minute, my twin, was on bedrest with her first kid.” Shapiro turns toward me. One arm on the back of the couch and the other in his lap. “My great-aunt, Mama Ang, who you will meet tomorrow, made a schedule for all of us and if one of us missed our so called ‘sitting duties,’ then we all paid. I refused to suffer the wrath of Mama Ang, so I sat with her most of the nine months. The only thing she wanted to do was binge watch all the TV shows she was too busy to watch while working. So, we watched series after series and right before she gave birth we started Grey’s.”
“And you liked it?”
“And I liked it.” He shifts on the couch, grabbing the remote, before he props his feet up on the coffee table. “So, if you don’t mind keeping it down …”
“How about you back it up two episodes and I’ll binge it with you,” I find myself saying.
“Two?”
“Yeah. I think it’s two.” I begin to recall what I last remember. It’s been so long ago, Tyler was gone on business and I watched more TV in those three days than I had in years.
“That was the last episode. So, we are actually on the same one.”
“No way?”
“Yes way.”
“Then let’s do this?” This is easier than I thought it would be.
“Let’s do.”
Coffee. I can almost taste it, fresh ground Italian Roast.
Am I dreaming?
“Hey, sleepy head. You want a cup?” I hear Shapiro’s voice before I can see him.
Preparing myself for the sunlight, I pry one eye open to test out the day, but nothing comes. It’s still dark and lamplight fills the room.
“What time is it?” I’m confused. Did we fall asleep on the couch and sleep the day away?
“It’s ten.”
“In the morning?” I jump up with way too much energy.
“Yes. It’s the curtains. Sound and light proof.” He walks back to the pot, pouring himself another cup. “I didn’t want to wake you.
“Thanks.” My eyes wander around the room remembering last night. We relaxed on the couch, watching episode after episode of Grey’s eventually breaking to fix a few snacks, popcorn and Kool-Aid, his guilty pleasure.
“I hope you like coffee because I’m afraid I only have that, water, protein shake and any flavor of—”
“Kool-Aid,” I cut in.
“Yeah. I have all the flavors. I’ll run out of coffee before I run out of it.”
“I’ll take coffee, please.” I stand up and catch a glimpse of myself in the television. Hair that was once tucked in a messy bun is springing out everywhere and what little makeup I had on is smeared under my eyes. Panic sets in and I begin to smooth my hair and wipe whatever makeup is left off with my fingers. Then I remembered. He’s not here.
I don’t have to look a certain way. I can wake up looking however I’m supposed to look and today I woke up looking like hell because I have gone through hell.
“You look like morning,” Shapiro interrupts giving me a welcomed break from my thoughts.
“What?” I spin around eyes narrowed.
I’m not sure if looking like morning is an insult or compliment.
“You’re over there fussing with yourself. It’s morning. You’re supposed to look”—he waves his hand around in my direction—“like that. Especially after only four hours of sleep.” Shapiro lifts his mug and takes a slow sip.
Eyes wide I just look at him, trying to figure out how to respond. If he thinks this is supposed to make me feel better, he is sorely wrong.
I have spent countless mornings rising before the butt crack of dawn to make sure I was showered and completely made up before Tyler woke. It took a couple hours to make sure I was freshly showered, completely shaven, hair done, and in full makeup. It’s what he liked and if that simple request made him happy, I was happy to comply.
Comply. It’s funny how one little word, in one little thought, made things so clear. I complied to his requests. Every. Single. Time.
He gave me an order and I followed it to make him happy or did I do it to prevent a blow-up?
Shapiro setting his mug down on the marble island top, draws my attention back to him.
“Penny, I didn’t mean …”
“It’s okay.” I avoid eye contact and eye the mug of coffee that is on the counter. “Is that mine?”
“Yeah.” He pushes it toward me.
“I mean we can’t all look as good as you. As if you have been up for hours. Ready to go for the day.” I let out an awkward laugh. Trying to brush off my insecurities and the comment I just made. I mean I basically just told him he was sex on a stick in a nice nonchalant way.
Good job, Penny.
Shapiro snickers. “That’s because I have been up for hours. I never went to bed.”
“What? Why?” I set my mug down a little too hard, shocked by his confession. “Oops. Sorry.” I pick up the mug and rub at the marble as if the mug would even make a scratch.
“It’s okay. I couldn’t get comfortable. Sleeping sitting up is kind of hard to do. At least for me.” Shapiro says as he turns to rinse his mug in the sink, filling it back up with water. “You looked comfortable sprawled out on the couch. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up and I didn’t think it was appropriate to carry you back to the bed.” He continues to busy himself, avoiding me.
“You could have taken the bed.”
“Nah. What if you would have woken up and wanted to lie down?” He finally turns around and gives me a crooked, closed lip smile.
“Then I would have gone back to the couch. No biggie,” I say a little too chipper.
“It was easier to just let you sleep. After everything I figured you needed the rest.” Shapiro shrugs his shoulders before he twists a cap off a bottle of Ibuprofen, popping a couple and downing his water.
“Hmm,” is all I can come up with. My words taken by his.
Walking over to the curtains, he grips the fabric in his hand, pausing before he lets the day in. “So, no sleep, a long hot shower and three cups of coffee is why I look like this, but you …” He opens the curtain a little to peak out. “You look well rested and your morning look is code for naturally beautiful.” Shapiro looks over his shoulder
, deep brown eyes meeting mine. “You ready for this?”
Shocked and confused by his honesty, I’m slow to respond. “For what?”
Flinging the shades back, the blinding rays of the morning light beaming into the loft instantly have me hiding my face. “Make it stop,” I shriek.
“No can do.” He chuckles. “We’ve got to get a move on the day. I have to be back by nine tonight to work the club.”
Spreading my fingers, I peek through, letting my eyes adjust before I uncover my face. “What are we doing?”
“We aren’t doing anything.” He picks up a few things as he makes his way toward his office. “I’m going to make a few calls and you are going to get ready.”
“Are you going to tell me what I’m getting ready for. Where I’m heading?”
Opening the office door, he gives me a look of understanding.
“You are getting ready for a chance.”
“A chance?”
We both stand there looking at each other. A silent conversation continues, but I’m unsure of what is being said.
“We leave in an hour.” Shapiro speaks first before he turns toward his office and shuts the door.
Chance.
I escaped on a chance to be given a chance at a new beginning and I refuse to waste it.
Penny
Having doubts is normal, right? It’s not that I’m not appreciative of what has been given to me, but it feels as if I’m trading one situation for another. I’m handing over my life to a stranger because I’m incapable of making decisions for myself, and I guess in a way, it’s true. I had a voice but couldn’t talk.
I’m not second-guessing leaving Tyler. After the way he reacted, the things that were said, they were unforgivable and in no way can be taken back. When you’re done, you’re just done.
“Here let me get that.” Shapiro once again pulls me from the past by jogging in front of me to open the door to his SUV.
“I could have opened it.” I throw my hands on my hips, taking a stance. I may have been incapable of leaving on my own, but I’m a hundred percent capable of opening a damn door.
“No, you really couldn’t have.” He pulls on the handle as he kicks at the bottom of the door causing it to pop open. “After you.”
