Page 39 of Don't Remind Me
Or maybe I’d demand to know why he was avoiding me in the first place. I deserved to know that much, didn’t I? Grown adults didn’t get to just stop talking to people they had a problem with. We weren’t in second grade. He couldn’t pretend I didn’t exist.
The thought stewed as I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth. It solidified in my mind as I sank onto my bed to take off my boots. The softness of my comforter was almost enough to make me screw getting up for pajamas and just strip out of my dress and crawl under the covers naked, but my studio was practically all windows. Flashing my neighbors wasn’t really the approach I was going for when it came to meeting new people.
I managed to change into a baggy T-shirt and slid under my cool sheets, a gentle breeze grazing my cheek through the open window above my bed.
Why shouldn’t I say all that to Jase? Why should I have to sit with this jumbled mess of rocks in my stomach when this was all his fault in the first place? He’d invitedmeto the gallery. He’d walkedmehome. He had no right to treat me this way, and he should have to hear it…or at least read it.
Robin had said no to drunk dialing, which, of course. But a text was fine, right? I mean, a text was different. He wouldn’t be able to tell I was drunk from a text. Not if I read it over extra carefully before I sent it. He’d get the truth, I’d get the last say, and my dignity would remain intact. It was the perfect plan.
My phone was in my hand with the screen unlocked before I had time to second-guess that logic. I winced at the brightness as I pulled up my messages and opened my conversation with him.
The last text exchange between us had been when he sent me the address of the art gallery. I’d responded with a smiley-face emoji. Somehow, that made everything worse.
My fingers itched to start typing, to send him the message that would take whatever thisthingwas battering around inside me and shove it into him instead. Make him deal with it.
Embarrassment.
Shame.
Rejection.
Disappointment.
But when I tried to think of the words, my brain could only come up with three.
Me:I miss you.
I stared at them typed out, knowing I couldn’t send them but not wanting to send anything else. Not really. All that anger and hurt were only covering up this one truth, and I couldn’t bear to admit it, no matter how drunk I was.
I’d deleted half the message when a loud bang erupted outside over the low city rumbles. My body froze, my thumb hovering over my phone screen as my tequila-muddled brain stumbled to identify the sound. It boomed again, louder this time, rising up from below my window, and it was only when the shouts started alongside it that I realized what it was.
“Let me in!” yelled a deep voice I didn’t recognize followed by three more bangs. Someone was slamming against the door to my building.
My pulse hammered at the base of my throat as I stared into the darkness of my apartment.
The glare from the streetlamps provided just enough light to make out the edges of my furniture, only instead of comforting shapes, they were looming shadows that might lunge at any moment.
Another bang, and this time, I flinched.
Could it be the person who’d left the death threat on my car?Hadthey followed me home? It wouldn’t have been hard. Maybe they’d just been watching me, waiting for the right moment or building up the courage to…what?
What happened if they got inside?
I closed my eyes against the thought and tried to stay calm, but hard angry slashes of black ink flashed across my lids, recounting every word of the note in vivid detail. All the ways they hoped I would die. All the things they’d do to me first.
Murdering whore.
Fucking cunt.
Get ready to get r?—
“Come on!” The slamming was a constant now, what must have been their fist connecting with the wooden door and rattling the latch.
No air reached my lungs.
How strong was that door? How long until they got fed up and kicked it down?
With silent gasps, I tried to unlock the darkened screen of my phone. I shook so badly it took three attempts for it to accept my fingerprint.
