Page 59 of Small Town Sizzle

July 20

I tried to talk to him about it today, but he didn’t understand. He thinks I’m just stressed and that things will go back to how they were. But they won’t. I know they won’t. And I hate that I let it get to this point. That I let myself believe I could fix him. The fact that we only had sex one time is a blessing in disguise.

July 21

I ended it. Finally. It hurts more than I thought it would, but there’s also relief. Like I can breathe again. I’ll always care about him, but I can’t keep setting myself on fire to keep him warm.

I slam the journal closed, then quickly reopen it, frantically searching through the pages to find out who she’s talking about. I don’t remember her having a lot of boyfriends, which is why her pregnancy with Alex was such a shock to all of us. She mostly kept to herself and was driven and focused on her career and the storybook life she’d always wanted for herself—well, or so we thought. It wasn’t until Carson and I moved to a base close to her that I realized she’d been hiding her addictions from all of us.

I go through the boxes, looking for pictures or any other sort of clues to who my sister was talking about in the journal. I go through the journal again, but there’s nothing there. I slam it shut and stuff it back in the box, too overwhelmed by her words to look any further.

George nudges my leg, sensing my mood, and I scratch behind his ears. “She was so strong,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “Stronger than I ever realized.”

I sit there for a long time, the journal resting in my lap, the weight of Meg’s words settling into my chest. There’s a knock on my door and I suck in a deep breath.

I check the security camera and doorbell app on my phone to see who is at the front door. I hear the unmistakable twang of Devon’s voice come out of my phone speaker.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he teases in a sing-song voice. “I know you’re here, Maya, baby. Let daddy in.”

Bile rises in my throat as my entire body tenses in response to his taunt in my doorbell app. He knows that he’s not supposed to be here, and I’m not surprised that he doesn’t care.

My chest tightens and my stomach clenches as my breathing quickens. I put my hand on the door, ready to open it so I can let him in. It’s like an ingrained behavior, my body on autopilot as it remembers what happens if I disobey him.

I close my eyes, my fingers finding one of Meg’s old sweatshirts in the box. I clutch it for dear life as I focus on slowing my breathing.

He doesn’t have power over you anymore, Maya. You don’t have to obey him. He can’t hurt you anymore.

“My my,” he whines. “I miss you, baby. Please let me in. I’m sorry for all the stuff before. I’m clean and sober. I’ll show you my chip. I’m a new man, baby. I just…I need you back, baby. Please let me in.”

I’ve heard those lies a thousand times before, and whereas the old Maya would have believed him, would have held onto that ridiculous hope that he was a monster because of his addictions and that being clean and staying there would cure it all, this Maya knew better.

It’s wild to think that I have counseled a hundred women in the same situations, but even I thought I could change and save Devon. But I couldn’t. It’s not my responsibility.

I suck in a long breath before blowing it out slowly. My throat is tight, the anxiety trying to claw its way up. I dial 9-1-1. A dispatcher answers quickly.

I hesitate, gripping the sweatshirt so tight that my fingers hurt. The words almost don’t come out.

“This is Maya Greene. I have an order of protection against Devon Glasgow, and he’s here at my house, ringing the doorbell,” I explain before I rattle off my address. “There’s an old warrant for his arrest, too.”

“Does he have a way inside the house?”

“No, everything is locked tight. When I don’t answer, he’s going to get violent.”

“Does he have a weapon?”

“He usually carries a switchblade on him, but I don’t know if that’s still the case. I haven’t seen him for a year or so.”

“Noted. Officers are en route.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up the phone. I keep the app open on my phone, glancing at it as I walk into my bedroom and go to my gun safe. I pull out the nine-millimeter that I bought for protection and start loading the bullets into the chamber.

“I know you’re here, Maya. I know you’re watching me. Come out here and talk to me.”

He begins pacing my porch, and I can see his demeanor change. His breathing gets faster as he continuously clenches his fists.

“You can’t hide in that shit hole for long. You know you can’t survive without me, Maya. You know that you’ll never find another guy to love your ugly, dumb ass. Come out here now.”

---