RUNNING FROM MY HUSBAND

I waved to the club's bouncer as I stepped out into the freezing night. My car was still in the shop for repairs, and it was so late I doubted I'd find any means of transport. Guess I'm walking, I thought with a sigh. Thankfully, I didn't live too far from here. I walked casually, arms wrapped around myself for warmth. I didn't live in the best neighborhood—honestly, it was pretty shitty, with homeless people scattered along the streets. I kept moving, eyes darting around when I heard footsteps behind me. My hand instinctively reached into my bag for the pepper spray as I quickened my pace. As suddenly as the footsteps had started, they stopped. I let out a shaky breath. Maybe I was just imagining things—exhaustion messing with my head. I turned around just to be sure, but the street behind me was empty. I kept walking. "Hello, beautiful," a voice said from the shadows ahead. I tightened my grip on the pepper spray, ready to defend myself. I didn't stop—I walked faster. The man suddenly rushed toward me. I ran, but he grabbed my hand. I spun around, sprayed him straight in the face, and screamed. "Love! Love! It's me—Oscar!" the man shouted. "Oscar? Oscar! What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me in the dark?" I yelled. "This was the only way to get you to talk to me." "No, it's not! Following me home from work in the middle of the night is not the way to talk to me!" I snapped, breathing heavily—partly relieved, but mostly furious. "What the hell did you spray me with? I can't see!" he cried, furiously rubbing his eyes. I sighed. "That's what you get for scaring the crap out of me. Follow me. I'll help you get your sight back," I said, walking ahead. "I'd like to follow you, but I can't see. You'll have to help me," he called after me. I sighed again. Just what I needed—another baby to take care of after dealing with drunk, sleazy people all night. I turned back and helped him to my house. Once inside, I sat him on the couch and fetched water and a towel to clean his eyes. "What was so important that you had to talk to me about it in the middle of the night?" I asked as I dabbed at his face. "Love, I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, but I promise I'll change for the better." Not this again. "Oscar, we've been through this a million times. You come to me saying you'll change, I believe you—like a fool—let you move back in, and then comes the drugs and the cheating. I'm not playing this game with you again." "But Love—" "Don't but Love me. I already kicked you out, and you're going to stay out," I said, finishing with the towel. "Now that you can see again, see yourself out," I added, pointing to the door. "But I have nowhere to go." "Not my problem, Oscar. I want you gone—now." I stood and pointed again. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "Oscar, I have to get to my other job in the morning. I don't have time to listen to your tantrums." He stood slowly, heading for the door. "Love, come on. You know we love each other." "Loved, Oscar. Past tense. Now goodbye." I shut the door in his face and locked it. Exhausted, I massaged my neck on the way to the bathroom. I showered, warmed up some leftovers, and finally crawled into bed. Tomorrow's another long day, I thought. I was woken up by my phone ringing. "Hello," I answered groggily. "Good morning, dear." "Grandpa? It's so early—did something happen?" "Must something be wrong for me to call you?" he replied, clearly offended. "That's not what I meant, Grandpa." "Anyway, I haven't seen you in almost a week, and Thanksgiving is coming up. I was hoping you'd drop by and we could have dinner like we used to." "Yes, of course. I was planning to come." "Okay, then. I'll prepare everything—you just come with an empty stomach." I chuckled. "Alright. See you then." "Have a good day at work," he said before hanging up. I sighed. Finally, a bit more sleep. I snuggled under the covers just as my alarm started blaring. Or not, I groaned, slapping it off. I needed to quit one job. It's not like I was desperate for the money anymore. I got dressed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast—only to find the fridge nearly empty. Guess I'll eat at work, I thought, grabbing my keys and bag before heading out. "Finally, you're here. Help me out with this," Casey, my coworker and friend, said, handing me a plate of pancakes with bacon. "Sorry, I'm late. I had to deal with Oscar last night, and then my grandfather called this morning," I sighed, placing the plate in front of a customer with a small smile. "Your ex, Oscar?" "Yes. That bum." "You're not thinking of taking him back, are you?" she asked, raising a brow. "No. I could've dealt with him being lazy and letting me support him, maybe even with the messes he made. But I won't deal with a drug addict." Casey chuckled. "Well, you can deal with a lot of things," she said as we walked to the kitchen. "I couldn't handle a guy like Oscar." "You're just picky," I said as we returned with more plates. My second job was at a diner. It didn't pay much, but Casey begged me not to quit. She didn't want to work alone or with strangers. That's the only reason I was still here—even though the club paid me three times more, not counting tips. "Speaking of picky," Casey said, "Rita—the waitress who used to work here—hooked me up with this guy, but I don't think I'll go out with him." "Why not? Is he not jacked enough? Not tall enough?" I teased. "No! He's really good-looking and so jacked," she laughed. "But I've started seeing another guy I really like." "I didn't know you were dating someone. What's he like? Or do I even want to know? You change guys like clothes." "And that's why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd judge him." "I'm not judging them. You never keep them around long enough for me to meet them. You always find something wrong after a date or two." "We weren't talking about me—we were talking about the guy I want to hook you up with," Casey said excitedly. "Oh no. Not this again. I told you—I don't do blind dates," I said, heading outside to clear tables. She followed. "Not doing what, Love? It's not a blind date. I'll show you his picture. He's a nice guy, I promise." "How would you know what kind of guy I like?" She laughed. "Considering you claimed to love Oscar and stayed with him for almost a year... I doubt you could do worse." "I don't want to date right now. I'm focused on getting my life back on track." "How?" "I've saved up enough. I'm thinking of selling my stuff, moving back in with my grandpa, and maybe going back to school full-time." I'd had to drop out when I couldn't pay tuition anymore. "But your grandpa lives on the other side of town. That means you'd quit here too?" "I don't know yet. It's just a thought," I said, carrying dishes back inside. "Just go out with him. One date. If you don't like him, you don't have to go on a second one." "Okay, fine. Just one date," I said, giving in—knowing she wouldn't stop pestering me otherwise. "Don't worry, you won't regret it. I've seen his picture. He's hot as hell." I didn't bother pushing for more details. Maybe it was time to put myself out there.