Page 11 of Rough

“Yes. It’s for the best.”

“Not a problem. Just to be clear, you’re refusing to talk about this?” Communication was the only thing I’d made mandatory in this relationship. She was hell-bent on keeping whatever had brought this on to herself.

“You know everything that you need to.”

“I’ll be to get my things later and I’ll leave your key. You should have told me you weren’t happy. Said something to me so that this abrupt need to end things didn’t blind me. Don’t wait for me by the door, Lauren.” I disconnected the call, picked up the vase that was on the table, and threw it at the wall, shattering it immediately.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck!” I roared.

I stormed through the house until I got to my bedroom. What I wanted to do was go to her and fuck sense into her, but instead, I got dressed and drove to the gun range, where shooting bullets into a sheet of paper wasn’t satisfactory enough. The owner let me around back where he’d set up an obstacle course to run, shoot, and fire as much as you needed to at moving objects.

That did the trick.

By the time I left, I was sweaty, and my energy dissipated. I still had to get to Lauren’s house to get my shit out. Mostly clothes that I’d taken off while I was there. It should all fit inside a suitcase. I could go for some of that bourbon she’d bought me right about now, too. I’d gotten rid of all the alcohol from here because of Neriah’s caseworkers and the concern about alcohol usage. Though, I loved bourbon, so she’d bought me some for when I was at her place. Looking at the time, I knew I’d better get over there before she got off work. I didn’t think I could handle seeing her right now without wanting to talk sense into her. I showered and dressed, took a suitcase with me, and prepared to make this last trip to her place.

LAUREN

Iheard Salt pull up and every single nerve stood on end. It was time. I’d completely screwed up today and now it was time to pay for it. I kneeled in front of the window in my charcoal gray skirt, knee-high cable knitted socks, and a pale pink button-down shirt. Punishing myself, I faced the large bay window, watching the rain pour down.

The front door opened, then closed, and disappointment replaced my fear. I received instructions not to greet him at the door as I usually did. I’d lost that privilege today. That stinging sensation pierced the back of my eyes as I fought to maintain control over my emotions. That was the reason I’d ended up in this predicament. My darn emotions.

Footsteps moved across the wood floor in the opposite direction from me. Salt climbed the steps heading to the bedroom, and I blinked away a tear that threatened to break free. I heard shuffling, and though I wanted to run to him and let him make everything better, I just couldn’t. I shifted my weight.Naturally, I moved to stand but caught myself. That would only make things worse. I wanted to make this as painless as possible.

“You should have told me you weren’t happy.” His words echoed throughout my mind and I wished I dared to tell him that I’d never been more content in my entire life. But I wasn’t that brave, so he’d never know. He couldn’t.

Holding on to something so good would likely make it worse when it was time to let go. Either I’d screw it up or he’d grow tired of tending to my needs. It was destined to happen. History always defines the future and we are no different. Was I attached to him? Absolutely. And I knew because of how well we fit together, he would be the one to destroy me.

I don’t know how long I sat watching the rain. No idea how many possibilities ran through my mind. I couldn’t guess how many times his face popped into the forefront of my head and I fantasized about nuzzling his hands before I kissed his lips. My knees hurt from staying in this position for as long as I had, but I didn’t dare move.

Footsteps descended the steps, heavier than before. Carrying luggage had that effect. I didn’t look. Couldn’t afford to watch the man that I was falling in love with pack his things and move on with his life. I’d decided for the both of us. He was here doing this because I’d called him and demanded that he do so. He’d kept talking, trying to persuade me to talk things through with him. That hadn’t worked. Neither had that deep, commanding tone. There was nothing he could do to make me change my mind. It wasn’t up for negotiation.

“Something must have happened. Talk to me,” He’d coached from the phone.

I’d remained quiet and let the tears fall silently. There was no need to rehash my reasons for resenting his love. He deserved better than what I could give him, and that’s all he needed toknow. Except, I’d chosen not to tell him that either. It was time to let go, or at least, that was the line that I kept feeding us both.

“I’m not happy.” That was the double-edged blade that made me rock back and forth in disbelief. I knew that was the biggest lie I’d ever told.

“Why didn’t you say so?” He wondered aloud.

“Can you come and get your things today?” Skipping his questions was the best move. Avoiding having to lie was better.

“Not a problem. Just to be clear, you’re refusing to talk about this?”

“You know everything that you need to.” I even sounded like a brat to myself.

“Don’t wait for me by the door, Lauren.”

He was angry. I heard it in every clipped word he spoke. He’d made me flinch at his request. I always met him at the door. No matter how angry, upset, sad, or removed, either of us was. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t take it back. That conversation was hours ago, and it still rang loud and clear right now.

I twirled the pendant that hung from my necklace unconsciously. I always did it when I missed him. It felt like I made a connection over the distance that brought me a little closer. My lifeline. He’d bought it for me because it reminded him of me when he saw it.

Salt walked around my house, removing everything that was his, wiping him from my existence. I’d chosen this window because it was out of the way and he’d have to come in search of me to see me. It was the one place in the house where there wasn’t a likely chance of sighting me. Thankfully, it came with a window.

Collecting things from the first floor should be a lot easier. If I’d had the nerve, I’d have put everything together for him so that all he’d need to do was grab them, and then go. Part of me was enjoying his presence, even if it would be the last timethat he was here. I could picture his scowl as he moved about. Frustration tensed every muscle in his body. His inked arms flexed as he lifted things. He’d be working his jaw as he ground his teeth. The lack of control driving him nuts. He was always in control. It was kind of his thing. The strong, dominant man who controlled everything around him.

Salt moved into the kitchen, and I knew he was taking his favorite mug and tumbler. I’d kind of hoped that he’d leave the mug. It was a guilty pleasure of mine to drink warm milk from it when he wasn’t around because I hated coffee. I swore I could taste him every time I took a sip. I always cleaned it before he came here so that he was never the wiser.

Salt walked into the den, and while there was nothing in there that belonged to him explicitly, it was where I kept his favorite bourbon. He liked it chilled, so I’d purchased a small refrigerator that I always kept well stocked. He also had to keep alcohol away from Neriah, so he could only drink here. The clink of glass meeting glass told me he was doing exactly as I thought. He was drinking. It wasn’t a regular occurrence, always a treat. I had a feeling that this drink was more to calm him. A possible “fuck her” drink. I didn’t care if he drank the entire three-hundred-dollar bottle. If it gave him a little peace, I’d purchase him however many he required to make this easiest.

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