Page 16 of Embers in the Dark

I plaster a smile and move my hand along his lapel to smooth down the fabric, hoping to show myself off as a caring girlfriend having a conversation with him, instead of the seething one I will be in about a second.

“Myles, baby,” I begin. Myles looks at me, already appearing bored by whatever I’m about to say. “I want you to know that’s the last time you ever speak to me like that, because you will never see me again after this. We’re done. I hope you fuck off. Have the life you deserve.”

Myles’s face distorts and I see the anger move along his features as he processes my words. He continues to stare at me and I’m well aware he hates to make a scene. I lean in and plant a slight kiss on his cheek, barely touching his skin. When I pull away, the smile I give him is full of satisfaction. To anyone watching, it just looks like I’m saying my goodbyes and leaving the dinner early. No one would guess I’ve just broken up with my boyfriend.

I move along the room and the relief rolling off me is beyond anything I can explain. Each step away from Myles feels like years of my life restored. I thought a part of me would feel some sort of pain from walking away from him and our relationship, but all I feel is tremendous relief that we have parted ways. I know I did the right thing. Did I make it a bit dramatic by doing this at his work event? Probably. I had planned to do it after the event so it wouldn’t be awkward for him. But no one speaks to me like that. That was demeaning and uncalled for. What he did tonight was unnecessary and humiliating. So, I returned the favor.

I make my way back outside and feel the summer breeze flow through my hair. It’s freeing in a way I never expected. I take a moment to enjoy it as I take in a breath and realize my newfound freedom from Myles Stempler.

I get my stub to hand to the valet and it’s only then I realize my hands are shaking. The adrenaline pumping through me is taking its toll. I pump my hands, hoping the rush I’m feeling from all that went on between Myles and I will pass by the time I get home. I can finally put everything behind me when it comes to my relationship with Myles. I’m ready to move forward with the new stage of my life that awaits me in Boston as I look upon my career at Orange University.

I retrieve my car and make my way back home fairly quickly. It’s eerily quiet on my walk up the stairs to my apartment. I miss my girls, but they’ll be back soon enough. When they return, I’ll begin my move to Boston. Now that I’ve cut ties with Myles, I can begin getting situated at my new school. It’s all surreal, things are truly moving in a new direction for me.

I walk through my door and lock up behind me. Closing my eyes, I lean up against the cool surface of the door and marvel at how much things can change in the course of a few days. I never imagined things could be so different in the span of a week. I feel lucky I can move, not only because I get to take a step closer to conquering my dream toward sports medicine and my path of physical therapy but pull out these claws Myles dug in me. I’ve allowed him to sink them in too deep for far too long; that’s finally over tonight.

I never really took the time to realize Myles was emotionally abusing me with his words. I think, to some degree, I knew he was controlling, but I didn’t label it as anything more. I guess I didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that I could be a person in such a relationship. It’s proof that anyone can fall victim to an abusive situation, no matter theirpersonality. He truly pulled me in then flipped a switch, and as time passed, I fell deeper and deeper. I let his words mask themselves as love.

I want to be angry, but I also have to realize I gave excuses for his behavior. I think with time, I allowed myself to believe this was what I deserved from another person and I forgot what a proper relationship should look like.

I push myself off from the door and throw my keys into the bowl nearby. I turn on the lights and go into the kitchen to get some water. I grab a water bottle and begin to walk through my living room, taking in the calm of my place, longing for someone to talk to about how my night went. Once my roommates hear how everything went down tonight, I think even they will be surprised by Myles and his ugliness.

I’m about to take another sip of my water when pounding begins on the other side of my front door. I’m startled and drop the water out of my grasp, spilling the opened bottle onto the ground.

Myles’s voice sounds next, the volume growing steadily. I rush to grab paper towels, more concerned with cleaning the water up than talking to my ex-boyfriend. He’s not worth my time right now. I’m hoping he’ll give up and simply go home.

Instead of calming down and walking back to his car, the pounding gets worse, the volume of his voice escalating with each bang of his fist against the wood.

“Baylee, open this damn door,” he commands.

I stay silent. I don’t feel like talking to him. It might be juvenile to stand on this side in silence, but I also don’t feel like speaking to him at the moment. I’d rather wait until the dust settles and have an adult conversation. Obviously, he isn’t rational right now and needs some time to relax.

It seems he disagrees with the stillness from my side of the door and continues, “Baylee, goddammit, open this fuckingdoor and let me in. I know you’re in there, I can see the light through the blinds.”

Why do people think that getting more verbally aggressive is a way to get their point across? I roll my eyes and continue to clean up the water, hopeful he’ll leave me alone.

Unfortunately, Myles is stronger than I imagined and continues to pummel his fist against the door. Soon he ceases and I think he finally relents and walks away. But a second later, he comes back with a vengeance, this time using what I imagine is his shoulder to slam into my front door.

“Myles, stop! What the fuck are you doing?” I drop the items I’m using to clean up the water spill and walk closer to the door. “Go home. We’re done. Nothing you say here is going to change that!”

It seems that was the wrong thing to say because instead of answering with words, he slams into the wood with more force. I start backing away, my heart rate spiking as I realize he’s unrelenting at this point. He won’t stop until he crosses that threshold.

I realize he’s going to succeed soon. He’s going to break the lock and I have no idea what he’s going to do once he gets into my apartment.

I won’t stand here and let him walk all over me. I won’t permit him to stand over me and use his physical presence to scare me, much like he was using his words to quiet me all these months. Enough is enough. I will stand tall when he comes in here.

I grip my phone, ready to call the police in case I need help, even though I doubt Myles will do anything physical against me. He hasn’t once shown me that he would physically hurt me. He’s only ever used his words to push me down. He wouldn’t hit me, would he?

It isn’t until he finally breaks the lock that I see the malice in his eyes. I realize how wrong my own assumption was because this isn’t the Myles I knew even an hour ago. Thisman is a beast, a monster. He’s panting, looking at me with this wild way about him, his hair disheveled, his eyes more animal-like than anything I’ve seen in him before. They hold something that makes him look like someone I should run from, rather than toward, and I wish I had prepared myself for a fight.

The blue that once drew me into his eyes is completely gone and now all I see is a person that makes me want to call for help. Something snaps in me and my fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. I turn to run, but I’m too slow. He grabs me by the arm. The moment his grip connects, I cry out.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going,princess?” He pulls me violently back toward his chest, my back slamming into him. He’s nudging his nose into my hair, breathing me in. I try to pull away from him, but he’s holding me so close, giving me no ability to free myself. He’s going to leave a mark.

“Myles, you’re hurting me,” I tell him.

“No fucking way I’m hurting you as much as you’re hurting me, sweetheart,” he seethes. “I fucking gave you everything and you just left me like that tonight. Like I’m the trash on the bottom of your shoe?”

Now he’s walking me forward, dragging me with him to meet his long strides. Once we get to the wall on the other end of the living room, he turns my body and slams me against the wall. My head hits the drywall, causing an indent.

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