by Nana Malone
Seven hundred and twenty hours was more than enough penance for making the mistake of picking Evan In the first place. Hell that was on top of the years I’d already spent with him.
My mother was a handful. But she was hardly a blip when pitted against my own near crippling self doubt. A wash of shame flooded my body for the two times I’d nearly gone back.
The first, had been three days after Id locked him out and the day before I’d discovered my missing passport. The other had been a week ago. My mother’s non stop TET offensive was wearing me down. And Evan had been pushing from the other end. He’d gone to my parent’s house every single day without fail. I saw to It that we were never alone, but he put that full Peter’s charm on display.
And I’d almost submitted. He’d even taken full responsibility for our split to my parents. Even my father had believed him. And so had I. He’d promised to go to anger management. Promised to never put his hands on me In anger again. Suggested we go to therapy.
All the things that sounded oh so good.
But then my passport arrived…and I remembered exactly why I was leaving. So Id chosen my moment, and made my escape. No one saw me off. No one wished me luck.
I knew I had to do It for me or I’d be weak and accept a fate I wanted nothing to do with. Once I landed I made the necessary arrangements. The flat had been In my name and I wanted Evan out. I’d left I’m safe messages for my family. I’d said nothing to Evan,. Because well, I couldn’t be trusted not to cave and do the safe thing.
I burrowed deeper under the covers. Packing up all my things and leaving DC behind for London was the right move. Wasn't it?
Either way, I was doing what was best for me.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand once again, and I dragged the duvet cover over my head. Maybe if I blocked out the sound, along with the rare English sunlight, my nightmare would all go away and I could return to my happy dream state.
The phone buzzed again, insistent that I look at it.
No.
It could be my mother, one of my sisters, or maybe my father. Worse, it could be Evan. My stomach rolled at the memory of the last time I’d let him hurt me. The way he’d looked at me. What I’d done.
My phone buzzed again.
“Damn it.” I snaked a hand out from under my duvet, and chilly air greeted my flesh. I fumbled around for the side table, eventually banging my wrist on the corner. Ouch. If that wasn't an omen, I didn’t know what was.
When my fingers closed around the phone, I dragged it in with me. “Okay, world, what the hell do you want from me?” I mumbled.
Three text messages. Fantastic.
The first was from my mother.
Mom: Abena, call me immediately. I want to make sure you’re safe. Make sure you call me.
I rolled my eyes. I’d already called my mother. And left my a voicemail. But my mother had a way of ignoring things that didn’t specifically fit what she wanted. And Helen Nartey didn’t want a voicemail. She wanted a live convo so she could try to berate me into coming back to DC.
Next message was from my sister, Akos, the lawyer.
Akosua: Abbie, we need to discuss your arrangements with the apartment. I served Evan with documents stating he has to vacate so you can sublet the place. You need to call me to review details.
Crap. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with.
Third message was from Evan.
Evan: Call me, we need to talk. Your sister wants me out of our place. I need some time to find somewhere else to go. Where are you? I called your sister, and she said you weren't there but wouldn’t tell me where you'd gone. Call me!!
I waited for the slice of pain. But nothing came. Just gray numbness. I felt free to go ahead and delete his message.
The phone buzzed in my hand again, causing it to tingle. God. Maybe I should have left the stupid thing back home. Started fresh.
The last text was from my sister, Ama.
Ama: I think you're brave.
I smiled. Of course, Ama would support me. Silently, if not out loud to the rest of the family. But still she supported me. And that was why I loved her.
I tried to close my eyes again to catch another sliver of elusive sleep, but it was no use. Thanks to my family’s reach out and touch someone campaign, I was awake now. And the sounds from the kitchen told me that Tamsin, my best friend from college and new flatmate, was awake. Good old Tams. When I had called, frantic and blubbering a few days ago, Tams had told me to get my Yank ass on a plane and insisted I stay with her.
I dragged my feet out of bed, and my toes immediately cursed my decision to move to London and not a warmer, more tropical locale. Never the less, I rummaged in my suitcase for thicker socks. Note to self, must unpack.
My phone buzzed again. Second note to self—get a different phone or at least a new chip. One that prevented my family from following me around and demanding all my time.
I shuffled into the living room and kitchen area to assess the damage Tamsin was doing to breakfast.
“Ah, good morning, love. How'd you sleep? I worried you'd be jetlagged. Then I realized, belatedly, that the room has no drapes. Normally it's not a problem with the weather and all, but today it was sunny of all things, so of course, the sun was going to disturb your sleep and...”
That was Tamsin. She had a tendency to ramble and speak at the speed of light. Due to her thick Manchester twang, I missed part of what she said, but I got the gist.
Tamsin bustled around the kitchen, yammering at a hundred miles an hour as I walked over to her. She finally paused when I stepped right in front of her and hugged her tight. I wasn’t big on hugging. Any kind of touching usually made me uncomfortable. But in instances like this, sometimes a hug was called for. Without even knowing it, Tamsin had saved my life. She was the reason I could breathe for the first time in years.
Tamsin wrapped her arms around my waist. “Ah, love. What’s with the hugs? Are there going to be waterworks too? If there are, I've got Kleenex in the pantry.”
I sniffled. “No. No. I'm just really happy to be here. Really happy to have this. I'm excited too.”
Tamsin smiled, displaying even teeth and dimples in her heart-shaped face. “You should be excited. No one I know has the guts to do what you did. Pack up in a moment’s notice and move out of country. Abbie, I swear.” Tamsin let go of me and handed me a mug of tea.
I took the tea, even as I winced. “Well, let’s face it, I sort of ran away.”
“Don’t call it running away. Call it running to a new adventure. I’m so glad you called me the other night.”
“I’m so glad you’re letting me stay. I know it’s a bit of an imposition.”
“Shut up. You know that’s bullshit. You saved me from having to get a serial killing random stranger for a flatmate. I’ve been considering it with Sophie being gone all the time. Maybe she should move in permanently with her boyfriend.”
Sophie was the third member of their triumvirate. They’d all shared a dorm room at NYU.
“Let’s not suggest that until I’ve been here for a while, okay? I’ve been looking forward to the three of us getting some girl time.” I wrinkled my nose as it finally occurred to me that it was Monday. “Shit, Tams, am I keeping you from work?”
Tamsin worked as an Assistant Coordinator for a PR firm. “No, I’m working from home today. I’ve got a pile of calendar stuff I need to pitch, and I’ll never get anything done with the other girls in and out of my office.”
I took another sip of my tea. “So, this is real. I’m really doing this?”
“Looks that way, doesn’t it? What’s your first move?”
I exhaled. “Step one is get a job. I have some money saved, but I’ll be needing equipment and stuff. It’ll be easier if I don’t have to deal with the parentals to get it. After that, I need to head to campus and do some administrative stuff. I was lucky they still let me into the course since I was so
late accepting.” What I didn’t let on with Tamsin is how dire my money situation was. I had just enough to make it through the semester, but that meant no extras.
Tamsin nodded. “I still can’t believe what Evan did. Sophie called it though. She’s always hated him.” I suppressed a shudder. If only Tamsin knew what else he’d done to me.
“I wish I’d seen this coming. Maybe I wouldn’t have wasted my college years with an asshole.” I squared my shoulders. The sooner I got on with my life, the sooner I’d forget what I’d left behind. It was time to take back some of the control Evan had taken from me. “But I’m here now, and I’m about to start living. Which means I better get ready for class.”
***
Abbie…
An hour and a half later, I sat in the back of the small auditorium watching as everyone took their seats one by one.
A collective hush fell over the room the moment Xander Chase walked in. I had seen photos, but they were nothing compared to seeing him in the flesh. I’d known he was young, but honestly he could be one of the students. And smoking hot didn’t even cover the description.
“You can call me Xander. Mr. Chase is my father.”
He was tall. At least six feet, two inches with broad shoulders and playful dark eyes. Shaggy blond hair framed his angled jaw and features. He also had a smile hot enough to make any red-blooded female consider dropping her panties. Self-confidence and sex appeal oozed off of him in waves.
“So, for those of you who don’t remember, I’ll give you a brief overview. During the course of a week, you’ll have one lecture, two advisory sessions, an assignment, and a critique.”
A legend like him was going to give me critiques and advice. Bile churned as my stomach flipped. Of course, I’d expected that, but still. Theoretically knowing my work was going to be picked apart and actually having it happen were two different things.
Then there was also the small matter of being stuck in a room with a man, any man, and only one exit. I wrapped my arms around my middle. I’d better learn to steel herself or I wouldn’t survive a day, let alone the whole term. He might be good-looking and in a position of power, but he was not Evan. And I’d faced Evan and hadn’t died. I could deal with this man.
“Oh, and one other thing to get out of the way. I want to remind the female and male students alike that it’s pointless to try to sleep with me. I don’t sleep with my students. I promise you, it’s not going to happen. So, save us all some time and don’t try one on. I'd rather get on with teaching you.”
Wow.
Okay. Way to put it all out there. I snuck a look around the room and instantly understood why he’d laid out his cards. Every single girl—and at least a quarter of the guys— appraised him. I had to wonder if anyone would make the attempt. There were only fifty students in the program, and of us, only twenty were female.
A tiny brunette sitting next to my whispered, “Just a tad full of himself, isn’t he?”
I giggled and whispered back, “I'd heard British men had a problem with confidence. I see he doesn’t suffer from that affliction.”
The girl grinned. “I'm Ilani Bruce, by the way.”
“Abbie Nartey.” I smiled back.
As I listened, energy hummed through my veins. The work would be exciting. I certainly wasn't going to enjoy the critiques. But then again, who did?
Xander was speaking again, and I dragged my attention back to him.
“Remember, I hand-selected each of you based on your portfolio submissions. I think each and every one of you has a raw talent waiting to come out. I need your commitment to be honest. Don't give me trite and pretty. I want you exposing yourselves and putting yourself in every single image.”
We all nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay, first assignment is as follows. Since all of you are so fresh faced and bushy tailed, I want you to photograph joy. In all of its forms. Gritty, serene, blissful—I want it all. Think you all can manage that?”
There was a general murmur of accord. The excitement was palpable as each of us fiddled with our cameras.
“Good. Now go and do your worst. And by worst I mean better than your best.”
As soon as class was over, I headed over to Xander. Unlike the other students who crowded him, I stopped well outside his sphere of personal space. “Excuse me, Xander?” I forced a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I would have to learn to talk to him if I wanted to work for him.
He cocked his head, and his almost-smiling mouth tugged into a glimmer of a real one as he assessed me. “Little Bird. I’d wondered if you’d come and introduce yourself.”
Little Bird? He remembered my photo? I flushed. It had taken me three days to find the hummingbird nest and capture the mother feeding her chicks.
Up close I realized Xander’s eyes weren’t dark at all, but rather a slate gray. I forced out my carefully selected words. “I, uh, wanted to say thank you for giving me the opportunity to study with you. It’s already changing my life.”
He chuckled. “Well, if you think today was life-changing, then wait until I actually start teaching you something.” He studied me closely. “I’m glad you accepted. I was starting to worry that you wouldn’t when we hadn’t heard from you.”
My skin prickled with embarrassment. He had been waiting on my acceptance? “I had no idea you were waiting on me—”
“Like I said, Little Bird, I hand-selected all of you. In the process I become quite attached to your works. To you.” This time his grin was the slow, cocky, confident smile of someone who was accustomed to women falling at his feet.
It fell flat on me. The longer I stood in his presence, the less nervous I became. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.
“Right. Well, anyway, thank you again. I’m looking forward to learning from you.” With a little boost of confidence, I turned to leave.
He called out to me, “Don’t you want to know why I selected you for this program?”
I turned but walked backward to keep my momentum. “Nope. You already told me why. And I know what I can do with a camera.” I didn’t wait for a response as I turned back around and strode out of the lecture hall.
Ilani followed me out of the building, and we made our escape.
“You're a Yank, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess the accent gives me away.”
My new friend grinned. “Only a little. Listen, some of us took Xander for undergrad and used to get together right after crits to drink our sorrows away. You game for a bit of a laugh after the first one?”
“Yeah sounds good. They sound pretty scary.”
Ilani followed me out of the main lobby into the rare British sunshine. “They are. He's usually not satisfied unless at least one person cries.”
My eyes widened, and I swallowed hard, resolute not to be the crying student. “Ouch.”
“It's his way, I guess.” Ilani shrugged. “Anyway. Good to meet you, Abbie. See you next week.”
“Yeah you too.” I smiled encouragingly, even though my stomach pitched at the thought of those crits.
As I turned, a chill skittered over my spine, but it wasn’t cooler air, it was more of a warning. Almost like I could feel a gaze on me.
You’re being paranoid, who would be watching you…besides the obvious.
No. I had to stop this. Evan was at home in DC. He wasn’t here. That was the fear talking. That was that little part of me that listened to my family, that was the part of me that had stayed with Evan. It the part afraid of change, the part afraid of greatness. The part of my brain that would have done the safe thing and gone to law school.
If I was going to make it here, if I was going to have my dream, I was going to have to get used to kicking that part of my psyche in the nads at every opportunity.
I wasn’t going back to fear. Fear had never made me happy. So I took a deep breath, forced my mind to calm down and made my brain work. Evan was
thousands of miles away. I was afraid of failing, but the only way to truly fail was not try.
So get off your ass and do this.
As I headed down the cobblestone steps of the Ealing campus and made my way to the bus stop, I let my lens be my eyes. The excitement of the new city fueled my blood. The first step to living my dream was already in motion.
Chapter 5
Abbie…
I hovered outside Dr. Kaufman's office. Evan might be a lot of things, but he did have one smart idea.
In his quest to win me back or whatever the hell that was, he'd mentioned therapy. And considering that there was still that weak, small part of me that had almost caved and gone back to him, I figured I needed plenty of it.
The problem was, now that I was here, facing the reality of speaking my truth, I was terrified. What if she'd judged me? Worse, what if she told me that I should go back to Evan? Or that I should work it out and say I was sorry?
You know better than that. No professional is going to tell you to go back.
Okay, maybe not. But she was definitely going to force me to take a look at things I didn't want to look at. While I was here in London, pursuing my dream, there were parts of me that were still terrified and afraid. I'd left him behind, but I was still scared.
I walked into the reception area and checked myself in before having a seat. A part of me was desperate to pull out my phone, to lose myself in the banalities of my Instagram feed, but I forced myself to sit there. To look around at my surroundings. I wasn't going to numb the feeling.
No. I wanted to do this. Enjoy this. Be this. This version of myself that I could actually be proud of. Numbing the pain of being here wasn't going to do that.
Five minutes later, I was ushered into Dr. Kaufman's office. I was surprised when I walked in. I expected an old woman that looked like someone's New York grandmother. Short, with kinky curling hair, glasses, slightly frumpy.
But no. Dr. Kaufman was certainly not frumpy. She was elegant in her movements and she marched up to me and shook my hand. "Abena Nartey?" Hello, I'm Dr. Kaufman. Most of my patients just call me Elisa."
