Page 43 of Semi Sweet
“I just got off the train.”
“Don’t move, I’ll be there soon.”
***
About ten minutes later, Sean was walking up to the station with a large German Shepherd on a leash. He looked a bit tired in his track pants and a long-sleeved shirt, but his eyes were concerned. The dog, on the other hand, looked very pleased to be out and about. It wagged its tail and kept looking up at its master like Sean had all the answers to the universe.
“So...eventful night?”
I shrugged, preferring not to cry on the train platform. “You could say that.”
Sensing that I was uncomfortable, Sean took my bags from me. “Let’s go back to my place.”
Dog and master guided me down a few side streets before we stopped in front of a utilitarian high rise. It had to have been at least twelve stories, a stark contrast to my neighborhood where everyone lived in stately townhomes with balconies. Sean scanned a key card to get access to the lobby and instead of heading up the stairs, he opened a door to a hallway and stopped at a door about halfway down.
“Please keep in mind that I’m not a rich Italian,” Sean warned as he turned the key in the lock.
“Thank God for that,” I muttered as I followed him inside.
The place was about what I expected a single, twenty-something man’s apartment to look like. It was pretty simple, with one bedroom, a galley kitchen, and a bathroom off of a large room that could be called both a dining room and living area. The dog curled up on a large cushion near a TV stand. I felt like the apartment was too small for a dog its size.
As if reading my mind, Sean walked over to the animal and knelt down to give it a proper pat. “Not the best place for him, but I had to make it work. The Quitteros were willing to pay for my relocation, but the place they offered wouldn’t take pets. Leaving Bear behind was not an option.”
“Screw the Quitteros,” I spat, flinging myself onto a couch. “Every last one of them.”
Sean went to the kitchen and opened a cabinet. “Something to take the edge off, perhaps? I’ve only been here a few months and feel skeevy drinking alone, so I can offer you the Shochu my grandparents got me when I graduated from Culinary School or theMoskovskaya OsobayaI bought the last time I visited my birth family.”
The more I learned about Sean, the more questions I had. After the night I had, I didn’t want to think about alcohol sharpening or dulling anything. “Water is fine.”
After handing me a glass, he sat in a recliner looking ready to listen with a cup of his own. “What happened?”
“I finally snapped out of the delusional trance I was in,” I replied. “More like I was violently shaken awake.”
I told him how I’d come home to find my townhouse trashed. At the time, I’d been worried something had happened to Evan, but now that I thought about it, the fact he had been angry enough to destroy things like our plates and the TV was terrifying.
“He ripped up my clothes and smashed anything that was ever important to me. Things I’d had before becoming his girlfriend, even.”
Sean looked pale as he listened. “Did he find out about what we did?”
I shook my head. “No, that would have been an acceptable reason for the reaction.” Though now I knew I’d been wise in not saying anything, despite it not being the best moral choice. “He went through my mail and found my contract for the internship.”
Sean had been mid sip and now he looked like he might choke. “Are you kidding me?”
“Granted, I got out of there in a hurry, but I really only salvaged enough for one bag. I didn’t even get to the part where he lit shit on fire.”
This time Sean all but spit his beverage out. “Fire?”
I showed him the back of my hand where my burn was still an angry wound. “I had to intervene or the whole block would be up in flames.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, getting up. “Lucky for you, I am an expert at nursing burns. I get burned at work at least once a day.” He must have headed to the bathroom because he returned with antibiotic cream and gauze. “I’ll leave it to you.”
“Thanks.” A few minutes later, my hand was wrapped and stinging slightly less. “I’m sorry to do this to you.”
“I wish you’d come sooner, and not for personal reasons,” Sean assured me. “Don’t tell me he put his hands on you next, because then I will have to punch him the next time he’s in the store.”
“He tried to grab my arm. That was when I told him to leave.”
Sean shut his eyes and exhaled sharply. “Olivia, you cannot go back there.”
