by JA Hensley
"Hey, chica. Ready for another fun-filled semester of Professor Bores-A-Lot?" I laugh at her nickname for Professor Morrison. He's very dry and boring, but he's also brilliant and I always learn something from him.
"I think so. At least we know how he grades, so we don't have to figure that part out, too."
"That's true. I hope he has more tests than papers in this class, though. I hate spending my evenings in the old part of the library. It smells back there."
We laugh as the professor walks in and begins class. I'm glad Heather’s in this class with me. She's always cheerful and fun to be around.
We make it through the seventy-five minute lecture without falling asleep and we have fifteen minutes before our next class starts.
"So, I wasn't going to ask, but what happened to your face? You look like you got punched." Heather never misses anything and I'm surprised it took her this long to ask.
"Long story. I'll tell you over lunch. There really isn't enough time to get into it before class. What do you have next?"
"Neuroimaging with Dr. Wilkes. What about you?"
"I've got Principles of Psychopathology with Dr. Bates. Should be interesting. Let's meet in the lounge after and we can chat." Our classes are at opposite ends of the building, so I have to get moving.
"Sounds good. I'll try to get our normal table," Heather replies over her shoulder as she walks toward her classroom.
The lecture was boring, but the first day usually is. I'm in the graduate student lounge before Heather arrives. Dr. Bates usually lets us go when she's done with her lectures, regardless of how long we've been in class. Heather's prof must have made them stay the whole time. Our usual table is open and I move to put my things down before digging my lunch out of my backpack. Being a grad student doesn't allow time for a job so I have to bring my lunch if I want enough money to go out with my friends on the weekends. It's worth the sacrifice.
"Why does he always make us stay the whole time? You can tell when he's just filling in the minutes until class officially ends. I hate it when he does that," Heather says as she sits down. It really bugs her when she feels like someone is wasting her time.
"I know. It's crazy. Bates let us out ten minutes early today."
"You suck, you know that right?" She grins at me and I laugh. I'd say the same to her if our situations were reversed.
"All right, Becca, tell me what happened to you."
"I don't suppose you would believe that I hit myself with the refrigerator door on a drunken Saturday night?" I can't even look her in the eye. Heather was a Social Work major in undergrad, so I know she'll see through my bullshit.
"I would buy that if I thought for one second you were that stupid. I know you're not, so cut the crap and tell me the truth. Who hit you?"
"How did you know that someone hit me? It could be anything."
"Please, woman. I know the look of a punch from a mile away. Just tell me what happened."
I take a deep breath to prepare myself to tell this story. I'm so humiliated that I'm not sure I can get through it. Heather reaches over and holds my hand and I feel the tears build up in my eyes.
"Ron. It was Ron. I broke up with him last week. A few days later he shows up at my apartment and tells me that I’m his and nobody else will have me. Long story short, he saw me with another guy, got mad, and hit me."
Heather just sits there patting my hand. She doesn't say anything and her facial expression is nothing but understanding. One look and I tell her the whole story from beginning to end, including the part about having dinner with him tonight.
"Are you sure you should be meeting him? It sounds like he's pretty unstable."
"That's why I wanted to be in public. I'm afraid if he's at my apartment he'll get violent again. I have to make him understand that I am done and want nothing to do with him, especially after this." I can’t stop the tears from running down my face.
"I know, but I'm still worried about you. Where are you going to meet him?"
"I think a little Italian place where I know the owners. That way I can have them watch out for me. "
"Well, just be careful. You know I'm here for you if you want to talk."
"Thanks, that means a lot to me." We finish our lunch in silence.
My phone pings with a text alert when I'm on my way to my next class. It's Ron.
Where are we going tonight? I don't want to wait anymore to talk to you.
Meet me at Raffiki's at 7. We'll talk then.
I turn my phone to silent as I walk into class. For now, I don't want to deal with him anymore. He can wait until tonight.
* * * * *
I'm waiting outside the Psychology building for Stephanie to pick me up when I hear my name being called. It's a male voice that I don't recognize. I turn and see Colin waving at me and I'm pleasantly surprised.
"What are you doing here?" A huge smile is plastered on my face as I watch him approach me. God, he's fucking gorgeous.
"I'm taking some foreign language classes. I didn't know you were a student here, too." He returns my smile and I melt a little.
"I'm in my second year of the PhD program in Psychology. What are you studying?"
"I have my Masters in Criminology, but I need to be fluent in at least one language other than English to work for the CIA or FBI."
"Wow, I thought you were a bodybuilder." I smile and laugh a little at my assumption.
"Well, I do some of that, too. I like working out and I’ve entered a couple competitions. I haven't won, but I have fun with it."
"It seems to be working for you." Shit. I said that out loud. Colin just smiles.
"Can I give you a lift? You look like you're waiting for a ride." I feel a blush flash to my cheeks thinking about the kind of ride I'd like to have on him.
"Thanks, but my friend is coming to get me and take me back to my car. I appreciate the offer, though."
"No problem. I'll see you around." He grins as he walks away and I feel my knees get weak. He is one fine specimen of a man.
I'm lost in a daydream of all the things I'd like to do with Colin when I hear a car horn. Stephanie is waiting at the curb. I hurry over and jump in the passenger seat.
"What the fuck is with the goofy grin on your face, bitch? You look like the cat that ate the canary or whatever the fucking saying is."
I roll my eyes at her. "I just ran into Colin. He's so dreamy," I say in my best 1950s girl imitation.
"You're such a goofball, Becca." Stephanie laughs at me as we head out of the parking lot. She turns and looks at me, suddenly very serious. "Are you really meeting Ron tonight? What are you going to do? You know if that fucker touches you again I'm going to kill him, right?"
I love how protective my friends are. "Yes, I'm meeting him at Raffiki's at seven. I figured since I know the owners, and they're always there, I'd have a little extra protection if he decided to be a psycho again. I'm going to tell him that we're done, and that if I have to get a restraining order, I will. I don't want him anywhere near me, especially after what he did yesterday morning." I reach up and touch my cheek. It's still tender, and even though I've covered the bruise with makeup, you can tell it's there. It's one of the most humiliating things I've ever dealt with.
"Maybe Christin and I should be there, too. We won't sit at your table, but we can be in another part of the restaurant."
"I don't know, Steph. He might see you and that would set him off."
"At least let me call Raphael and let him know what's happening. That way he can keep a close eye on you while doing his job. Ron won't necessarily know what's going on."
"If I told you not to, would you listen?"
"Nope, you know that. I don't want that asshole to do anything to hurt you again. I know you think you're doing the right thing, but I don't trust him." She grips the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turn white.
"I don't want him to hurt me either, and I love you for being so protective. If it makes you feel better
to call Raphael, that's fine. You'll do it anyway." I smile at her. "I'll have my cell phone on my lap, and if things get out of hand, I'll call you and you can listen to the conversation. Okay?"
"Okay, but if he does anything that makes you think he's going to lose it, I want you to promise me that you’ll get the fuck out of there and go to Christin's. You got that?"
"Yes, Mom, I've got it." I stick my tongue out at her to try to lighten the mood, but I fall short. Stephanie is visibly worried and there's nothing I can do to make her feel better. We ride the rest of the way to Christin's in silence.
Once I've got my car backed out of the garage, I head for my apartment to get ready for dinner. I'm not looking forward to this confrontation, but I know it needs to happen. I don't know how I'm going to get through to him that we’re over. This possessive side of him is something I've never had to deal with from anyone.
I keep playing different scenarios out in my mind while I get changed. What if he doesn't listen to me? What if he makes a scene tonight? I check myself in the mirror one more time. I've decided to dress conservatively so as not to call any attention to my body. Nice jeans, button-down blouse and sandals look nice enough for the restaurant without showing off too much skin. I feel like I'm getting ready to go into battle and I'm putting on my armor.
As I lock my door, I hear Colin in the hallway and it sounds like he's on the phone. I stay quiet and watch him walk toward me. He's wearing shorts and a tank top and looks like he’s just came from the gym. The muscles in his legs are bulging with each step and I can see a hint of what his abs look like through his shirt. Big biceps run up into broad shoulders. I feel my heart rate speed up as I shamelessly check him out from head to toe and back up again. Just as I'm licking my lips, he notices me ogling him. I blush and look away as he gives me a grin that just about melts my panties. Once I deal with this bullshit with Ron, I'm going to find out what Colin's story is.
I walk past him toward the front door of the building and I could swear I hear him mumble something about looking hot in everything. I hope he was talking about me, but I can't afford to get my hopes up. It is, however, an ego boost that will hopefully help me through the next hour or so.
I pull into the lot at the restaurant a little before six-thirty. I breathe a sigh of relief when I don't see Ron's car. When I enter the building, Raphael is standing at the bar pouring a glass of wine. I walk up to him and sit down on a high bar chair. Raphael doesn't ask me what I want to drink. He pulls another wine glass down from the rack and pours the wine he's holding into it. He gives the first glass to the waiter standing there and the other glass he pushes toward me. There’s just something wonderful about a place that knows you well enough to know what you drink without asking. I'm probably going to need more liquid courage, but I have to keep my head on straight to deal with the shit storm that's coming soon.
"So, I hear there’s trouble brewing." Raphael pulls me out of my thoughts with his Italian accent and deep voice. "Stephanie called and said that you'd be here tonight and to keep an eye on you. Wanna tell me what's going on before it gets out of control?" He smiles kindly and pats my hand.
"I broke up with Ron last week. He doesn't want it to be over and came by yesterday. Things got physical and he refuses to take no for an answer. I'm hoping being in public will avoid a scene and allow me to say what I need to say. I feel safe here, so that's why I chose to come here." Tears are building in my eyes and I refuse to let them fall. This asshole has controlled me long enough.
"Oh, bella, I'm so sorry that he’s treating you so poorly. You know you can always come here and we’ll take care of you. I'll have Paulo wait on your table. He can be intimidating when he wants to be."
"Thanks, Raph. I knew I could count on you. Hopefully, it won't be an issue, but I'm not sure what to expect." I hang my head and look at my hands. This is so embarrassing.
"No worries, it’ll be okay. Looks like he's here. I'll get Paulo to come over and seat you." Raphael squeezes my hand once again and walks away from the bar. I feel Ron approach me on my left and my heart leaps into my throat. You can do this, Becca. You can face this asshole and make him hear you.
"I'm glad you're here early. I was hoping you would be." Ron leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I suppress the urge to shiver and shrink away from him. No need to show my cards this early on.
As I turn to look at him, Paulo comes up and asks if we would like to be seated. I nod and Ron puts his hand on the small of my back, steering me to follow Paulo and making a show of possessiveness. I can't stop the shudder that happens when he touches me. It's not one of lust but of disgust. Hopefully, he doesn't know the difference.
Once we're seated, have heard the specials, and Ron has placed his drink order, Paulo leaves and there’s silence. I'm not sure what to say to keep things civil and I don't know what Ron’s thinking. I take a sip of my wine and wait for him to speak.
"You look beautiful, Becca. I'm happy you came tonight." He smiles in a way that used to make me melt, but now it has the opposite effect.
"Thanks. I only came so you would listen to me. You didn't seem like you were in the right frame of mind yesterday." I unconsciously touch my cheek and flinch when it stings. I forgot about the bruise for a second.
"I'm so sorry about yesterday, baby. I don't know what came over me. The thought of living my life without you makes me crazy and I snapped. Please forgive me. I would never hurt you on purpose and I can't tell you how awful I feel. Please, Becca, I'm begging you for forgiveness. I never meant to hurt you." He seems sincere in his apology, but I'm just not sure how much to believe.
"What exactly do you want me to forgive you for, Ron?" Let's see where this goes.
He looks confused. "For hitting you. I'm so sorry that I flew off the handle like that."
"Anything else you're sorry for?" I can't seem to keep my anger under control. I take a deep breath and as I let it out, Paulo arrives with Ron's drink. I take advantage of the distraction to get my emotions in check. Ron and I place our orders and Paulo gives me a look before walking away. I nod indicating that I'm fine for now.
Ron looks at me with a blank stare. "What else do you want me to say? I'm sorry I hit you. What else is there?"
Oh, hell no. He did not just say that. I shake my head and look down at my hands. How do I put this in a way that doesn't cause a scene?
"What about last week? Are you sorry about that?" My voice gets a little higher at the end of the second question. Breathe, Becca.
"What about last week? I don’t know what you're talking about." His tone reiterates his annoyance.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously? You yell and scream and throw things at me, but you don't think it's a big deal? Unbelievable." Okay, not the calm, cool, and collected way I wanted this conversation to go.
"I was letting off some steam. You're fine. I should be pissed at you about Adam." Ron leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, looking very smug.
"As far as I'm concerned, we are no longer together and who I choose to be with is none of your fucking business."
"You're such a whore, Becca. You had sex with him and you barely even know him."
"Is that what this is about?" I ask ignoring his comment about Adam. I know I didn't have sex with him. "That's not how this works, Ron. I broke up with you. I told you it was over. Why are you doing this?" Tears threaten to fall but I bite the inside of my cheek to keep them in place.
"I love you, Becca. You are my world. I won't lose you to a misunderstanding like this."
"You didn't lose me because of a misunderstanding. You lost me because you called me horrible names, threw things at me, and then you hit me. That's the last straw, Ron. I don't want you back, I don't want to be with you, and I don't want you in my life. Can you understand that?"
I see anger flare behind his eyes and his fists clench on the table. He suddenly reaches for his glass and I flinch. Did I really think he’d hit me again? I guess I did. He smiles
and shakes his head as he takes a drink.
"You thought I was going to hit you, didn't you? Oh, Becca. That speaks volumes. I'm glad to know that I hold that kind of power over you. I'm going to tell you this one more time. You are mine and I won’t let you go. You will be in my life, and you will be my wife someday." He looks me in the eyes as he says the last part. I can feel my fight or flight instinct start to take hold of me. My hands are shaking and I'm close to tears. Why doesn't he just walk away?
"I don't think you're hearing me. I don't want to be your wife. Not now, not ever. I don't want anything to do with you. I'm moving on. You’re not who I want to be with anymore." I try to say this with all the confidence and conviction I can muster.
"You just need time to cool down. I can give you a week to get back to the Becca I’ve always known. Then you'll be able to think clearly and see that what's happened is just a bump in the road of our relationship."
I just stare at him. I can't form the words that I want to say. Paulo arrives with our entrees, but I've lost my appetite. There’s no way I can sit here and eat with this man. I don't even know who he is anymore.
"I don't need to cool down or think this through. I've made my decision and I hope you can honor it by leaving me alone. Please, just move on." I put my purse on my shoulder and move to get out of the booth and leave.
He jumps up before I’m fully standing and gently cups my cheeks with his hands. He holds me still and looks in my eyes. I can't force myself to look away. He bends down and kisses me softly on the lips, holding me still so my face is where he wants it.
"You'll change your mind. I know you too well, Becca. I'll call you in a couple days and we'll get this all worked out," he whispers in my ear. "I have no doubt we’re meant to be together forever."
I shiver at his words, knowing there is more meaning behind them than what’s on the surface. I take a step back and he releases me. I turn around and walk away without another word. What's the point? He's not listening anyway and I just want to get away from him as fast as I possibly can. Raphael is standing by the front door as I approach.