by Gabi Moore
After it got dark we piled all the fishing stuff back into the truck and started to make our way back home.
“Hey, how’s work man?” he said, and I realized that we probably hadn’t spoken for the last half hour at least.
“Yeah, I’m looking into some new things, kind of a lot of prospects but none of them look appealing you know?”
“Yep.”
“This airport gig is killing me, though, no doubt about it. It’s enough to make me get itchy feet again, you know?”
He turned to look at me, briefly taking his eyes off the road.
“Don’t even joke, Zack.”
I didn’t respond.
“Something else will come up. Make friends for fuck’s sake. Date around a bit.”
“Well, I already told you, I’m seeing Maddy.”
“Yeah but… just in case that doesn’t work out, you know? Nothing wrong with getting out there, keeping your options open, you know?”
I looked at him.
“You think I’m going to hurt her or something,” I said. He didn’t turn his head to look at me again.
“Zack, what if I’m afraid that she’s going to hurt you?”
Chapter 15 - Madeleine
I watched him squeeze the blood out of his steak with the tip of his knife.
I thought about how much that stupid steak had cost. About how someone like Alex couldn’t really afford it. Not like I could either, but whatever, it was his ‘treat’ and maybe I’d got some satisfaction watching him pay for it all, and try to apologize. Again. True, he had never put this much effort in before, but this dinner had all the familiar flavors of the I-swear-this-is-the-last-time type apology that Alex was so skilled at. Right down to me almost considering whether I should just go easy on him. Almost.
“What’s so different about this course and the one you did the time before?” I said.
He was dressed up nicer than I think I had ever seen him. Dark blue jacket with a collared shirt, his hair all combed back. He always did clean up nice.
“Well, this course isn’t about anger management, it’s about understanding anger. You know, getting to the root of why you get angry and what to do about it,” he said, leaning in close like he had a secret to tell me. Or like he wanted to rope me in on a pyramid scheme. I didn’t lean in myself.
“Well, that sounds great. I hope it works out for this time,” I said coldly, and looked down at my own steak. Even on that expensive china and with that ridiculous price tag, it was obvious that it just steak. Just meat. And it wasn’t even that good a steak, either. I pushed it around my plate.
“Oh, it will work this time,” he said. “I just want your friendship for now. You can take as long as you need, I understand. But I mean it Maddy, I’m making important changes. Things are improving for me.”
Since we had sat down here in this restaurant, his little speech had been suspiciously free of actual apologies. More like all the reasons why I should forget he had ever hit me, forget that he had barged into my house and got into a fight with …well, not my boyfriend, but with Zack. Whatever he was.
“Well that’s great. You certainly do have a lot of improving to do…” I said, and pushed my knife and fork together. I wasn’t even hungry.
He smiled a tight smile at me and shrugged.
“I get that you’re angry,” he said.
“I’m angry?”
“I know. I deserve you being mad at me. I know. You have every right to hate my guts right now.”
“Oh I do? How kind of you to tell me all the things I have a right to do.”
His lips twisted a little.
“Can you just meet me halfway, Maddy? Can you just acknowledge that I’m trying to apologize here?”
I scoffed and pushed my plate away.
“Oh, is that what you’re trying to do? Apologize? I hadn’t noticed,” I said. It was out of character for me, to be so bitchy. But all the things that were in character for me had never worked out for me, so why the hell not?
His lips twisted a little more.
“Maddy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened. I don’t know how many times I have to apologize.”
“You can apologize as much as you want.”
“And then?”
“And then what?”
“Do you… forgive me? Can you at least understand where I’m coming from? Christ, Maddy, you know what I’m asking you,” he blurted.
The restaurant had those weird little pretend tea lights on the table, the ones that are just an LED light in a candle-shaped piece of plastic. They flicker quite convincingly, but when your hand goes over them, you realize they’re cold and fake. No flame there. I had spent the whole day helping others, giving to others, and now here I was with Alex, and, predictably, he wanted something from me too.
“You should want to be a better person whether I forgive you or not,” I said. I don’t know where that came from, but it was the right thing to say. I wouldn’t put it past him to lose his temper in a public place, but I sensed I had a long way to go before he was angry enough to make a scene. And so I was safe. And so I kept talking.
“And just because everyone understands you and sees where you’re coming from, it doesn’t mean that you didn’t do what you did, right?”
The look on his face was stony.
A year or two ago, I would have bought all of this hook, line and sinker. I would have eaten up his story of contrition and redemption, and been more than happy to welcome him back into my life, thrilled, even, that I got to be the special woman that he’d wrestle his demons for, that he loved me, that none of it was his fault anyway.
But today, I could see it for what it was. An expensive restaurant and a nice-looking jacket didn’t hide that fact that it was the same old bullshit story as always. He leaned back in his chair and eyed me with something close to exasperation.
“Is it the other guy?” he said at last. I had been waiting for him to mention it. So far, he had said nothing. Pretended that he hadn’t had his ass handed to him just a few weeks ago and that Zack was just some inconvenient ghost that would evaporate now that he was sorry enough and promised he’d never, ever be mean again.
I returned his stony gaze.
“Is what the other guy?” I said. I thought about getting dessert, and adding it to the already bulging bill that I knew he couldn’t really afford. I hadn’t come out here with any intention to be vindictive, but something about the way he was pressing on that steak with his knife made me want to stop being so damn sweet and nice for a change.
“You know. Is he the problem?”
The cheek on this guy.
“The problem is that you’re an asshole, and so we broke up,” I said. Inwardly I winced a little, my body trained to cringe after saying something like that, used to the fact that a slap would inevitably follow. Instead, he stared at me hard, nostrils flaring.
“We’re on a break,” he said quietly. “Who is he anyway? Are you… are you seeing him?”
Oh, I was seeing him all right. Seeing his brains out on the regular, and I loved it. I was seeing him so often and so hard that some days it hurt to walk. I smiled inwardly at what would happen if I told him any of this. If I told him that Zack was better in bed, much better, that his cock was like a magic wand and that it had been teaching my body to do things I never even thought were possible. But it was my secret. One I liked keeping to myself.
“That’s not really any of your business.”
“Maddy, the guy hit me. I could press charges for assault for what he did.”
I said nothing.
“I’m serious Maddy. How would that look, especially for a guy with his history? I could go to the police station right now and I could press charges of assault for what he did.”
“And I could press charges of assault for what you did,” I spat. I hated the fact that the bruise on my cheek had already faded before he had the chance to actually see what he had done.
“Look,
let’s not fight, OK? I’m here to apologize, I was wrong, I’m sorry. OK?”
“OK,” I said.
“OK what?”
I wanted to hit him myself. He was pathetic.
“OK. I’m glad you’re on the road to healing or whatever, and I sincerely hope you get your shit together, and OK, your plan sounds great. So what? What do you want from me?”
I loved the fact that he couldn’t yell in the restaurant, or reach over and pinch my arm to get me to shut up.
“I love you, Maddy,” he said, and I nearly laughed out loud at the way he said it. Not as a vulnerable, sweet admission. Not as a confession. Not as a platitude. But something like a weapon.
How many bruises had I already gathered because he loved me so much? How many stitches? How many nights had I cried away because of his stupid love? I knew what his love meant, and I didn’t want it anymore.
“Ok, but we’re not together anymore, Alex. Nothing is going to change that.” That really was the end of it. I was getting the feeling that this dinner needed to be over sooner rather than later. Why had I even come? A moment of stupid weakness. Zack didn’t know, and all of a sudden that felt like a bad mistake to have made. Alex knew how to make me crazy. But he hadn’t won this time. I had won. The angry look on his face told me that I had won, and he hadn’t expected it at all.
“So it is him then. You know, you could have just said so. Here I am making an ass of myself trying to win you back when you’ve already decided you’re going to go with some meathead…” he smirked dangerously and pushed his own plate away. Ah. This was the Alex I knew.
“Don’t call him that…”
“Where you cheating on me? Huh? How long have you been seeing this idiot for?”
“Alex, we’ve been broken up for months, I’ve never cheated on you, please, don’t raise your voice.”
“Who even is this guy?” he said, his voice louder than ever. The people at the next table looked over at us.
“Alex, calm down. Nobody cheated on anybody.”
This had been a bad idea, I could see it clearly now. Slowly, I was learning to deal with Alex, but one lesson I still hadn’t learned: there was no engaging with him at all. No apologies. No new leaves. Just the same old story again and again and again. The same ugly old leaf turning over and over forever.
“Where did you meet him? At work or something? You never go anywhere so where did you meet him. Huh?”
I was starting to get angry myself. I tried to breathe. Tried to remember that he was sick. That I didn’t have to listen to what he said. I tried to remember the little light in the dark.
“Answer me when I fucking speak to you,” he hissed, and all at once the façade was off and the Alex I knew and hated was there, in full force, only a restaurant table away from me.
I said nothing.
“Answer me,” he said, voice dripping with threat as he leaned in again, so close he looked as though he wanted to eat me.
“Answer me!”
“OK, fine! I fucking met him online, OK? On a prison dating site. He’s big and tattooed and scary looking and maybe he’s a bad idea but I don’t care, because he makes me feel amazing.”
He sat back in his seat and looked genuinely shocked.
“Maddy, what are you saying?”
I stared at his face. He was speechless.
“I think I should go now,” I said, and reached down to pick up my handbag.
A flash of panic flickered over his face.
“Go? Where are you going? We haven’t finished our dinner yet.”
I felt sincerely sorry for him.
“And I’m not your girlfriend,” I said. I felt afraid of him. I wanted to leave.
“What did he do? Is he a murderer or something? What if he hurts you?”
I only had to smirk at him for him to see the irony in what he had said.
“Tell me, Maddy. At least tell me what he did.”
“I don’t know what he did. And I don’t care.”
“So you’re just going to screw around with some weird guy who’s been in prison and you don’t even know what he did?”
I pushed back my chair and stood to leave.
“I expected more from you, Maddy. You’re being cruel. I can’t believe you’re being like this,” he said, trying a different tack. But I knew all his tacks.
“What happened to me taking as long as I needed? What about wanting to be my friend?”
I pushed the chair back in and left him there with the two steaks and the fake plastic light and the people around our table casting curious glances at us.
I walked out.
I suddenly saw my life through Zack’s eyes. When did I become such a weak, battered woman? Why on earth did I think it was a good idea to get dressed up and come out to meet this man, this man who had hurt me so much? What the hell was wrong with me?
Outside in the cool night air, I breathed in deep and felt my head clear. There was no question about it – Alex had to disappear from my life. I was done holding onto him. He was wasting my time. I could have been doing anything I wanted tonight. I could be at home with my animals, or doing something fun or …I could be curled up in Zack’s arms.
The more I walked on, though, the more Zack didn’t seem like such a savior either. If I was done tolerating crap from one man, why should I accept it from another? Maybe I did want to know. He was so evasive. Lately, I had tried asking him gently about his prison sentence, but he had only said it would be too difficult for him to say, that the wounds were still fresh. That he wanted to tell me, and he would tell me, but only when the moment was right. Well, why couldn’t I decide when the moment was right?
I pulled my coat around me and walked a little faster. I whipped my phone from out my pocket and texted him.
Maddy: Come over tonight. I miss you. We need to talk.
I stuffed the phone back into my pocket and walked on. It was blunt. Forceful even. But the evening air was so invigorating and cold, it all felt right. We did need to talk. And as I walked on, alone with my thoughts, I started to realize that I wasn’t even that scared of the dark anymore.
Chapter 16 - Zack
“When I returned home from deployment, I was in rough shape,” I said. “It was hard for me to ask for help, and back then I didn’t even know much about PTSD. I thought that I was just stressed; just getting back into the swing of things, and that it wasn’t so bad. But I was so jumpy. So paranoid, too.”
I looked at my face in the mirror. Was that the face of someone you’d trust? Would a sweet girl like Maddy believe any of it? I could go back further, I guess. I could tell her about dad and ma and why I joined the military at all. Or further back still, when I was five years old and Ben and I were still good friends and… well, none of that was important now.
I cleared my throat and looked square into the mirror again. If I had any hope of keeping this miraculous girl in my life, it would only be because I could look her in the eye and tell her the truth.
“My ex-girlfriend and I had a very difficult relationship. She waited for me but when I came back things were different between us. We fought more. We were both really angry people.”
I stopped here, distracted by the dripping bathroom tap and the thought that there was no elegant way to say what I needed to say. I straightened my shoulders and tried to keep my voice clear.
“I wanted to leave again, and she didn’t want me to. We fought so much. Eventually, I snapped at her one evening. She came up behind me and I don’t know, I just snapped. I hit her, but only by accident. Like I said, I didn’t even understand about PTSD back then. In my mind, it wasn’t really her that I hit. I just …acted from instinct. She wasn’t hurt badly, not at all. She was just shocked. She cried and cried …oh God it freaks me out just to think about the way that she cried that night. I tried to say sorry but it was no use. She was so afraid of me. It killed me. She wouldn’t even let me touch her.”
I looked at my reflection.
> Was that the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Zack? Sometimes, I wasn’t even sure anymore.
“I felt so bad. She was angry about so many things, but I guess that became the thing she held onto. I told her we needed to break up, that I wanted to go abroad again, get some air. She didn’t want that either. Long story short, she reported me to the police. She …she took photos of the bruise. It looked so much worse than it was. She told everyone. I was convicted of domestic violence. I didn’t fight it. I could see how just fighting it was causing everyone so much pain, so I just went with it… I mean, I did hit her, right? It was messed up. I was kind of glad to go to prison, just to get away from everything.”
I looked back at myself, trying to see my face as she might see it. I didn’t want her to think I was some sleazy asshole trying to explain away something as rotten as hitting a woman. But I also wanted her to understand. I hadn’t meant it. I wasn’t some saint or anything, but I would never, ever hit a woman. That’s just not who I am. But there it was: I had hit her. A fact. And as that horrible purple mark on my ex’s skin leered back at me, I guess I decided that maybe I wasn’t as good a guy as I thought I was.
I took another deep breath, quickly brushed my teeth and headed out. It was weird of her, to send a text so late at night, but she lived pretty close by and she was right. We did need to chat. I drove in silence, practicing my speech in my head, nervously thumping the steering wheel. To my surprise, she was sitting outside on the steps as I pulled up into the driveway.
I parked, turned off the engine and stepped out, slamming the car door behind me.
“I thought you hated sitting in the dark?” I said playfully. I could see her white teeth smiling back at me from the porch steps.
“Yeah, I do. But tonight’s so pretty I decided to sit outside for a bit.”
I sat down beside her. I noticed she had pinned back her hair with a clip, and looking again I realized she was wearing makeup and heels. I’d have to ask her about that later.
I pulled a box from inside my jacket, tapped out a cigarette, and lit it in the darkness, the orange glow bobbing between us as we sat in silence.
