Confronting the past
1062 Words
Noah immediately knows who I'm referring to even before I utter his name. His muscles tense, and his breathing accelerates sharply. I'm sure that if Louis were here, he'd rearrange his face with his fists. I let myself lean against Noah's chest, finally allowing the tears that had threatened to spill earlier to flow freely.
After several minutes, I wipe away my tears and release Noah from this somewhat forced embrace. He looks at me, searching for answers.
"What was he doing here?" he asks softly, but I can sense anger beneath his voice.
I sit down on the couch, take a deep breath, and recount what happened. Long shivers of disgust run through me as I remember. Noah sits down next to me and soothingly strokes my back.
"We'll find a solution, Ana. You could request a restraining order," he suggests.
I shake my head, knowing that a piece of paper won't stop him.
"That wouldn't be enough, Noah, and besides, I don't have a reason. I never filed a complaint."
"I should have convinced you to do it. If I had, we wouldn't have this problem."
"I'm going to look for a new apartment," I announce, feeling defeated.
I have no desire to leave the neighborhood or Noah, but I see no other solution. I don't want to live in constant fear of coming home and finding him at my doorstep anytime.
"It's not your job to leave," my best friend snaps.
"He found the address, Noah. I don't want to live in fear again."
"Ask for help, Ana. Talk to Leslie! Or to Darren, he's a lawyer; he can surely help you."
I shake my head violently; there's no way I'm talking to anyone else about it. I don't want them to look at me with pity or disgust.
"No, he works in the same firm as Louis's lawyer. I can't talk to him, and I don't want Leslie to know."
Noah understands that it's pointless to insist, but I know he won't give up so easily. I decline when he offers me food; I've lost my appetite and retreat to my room. I remove my oversized sweater and change into leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt before curling up on the mattress.
"You'll never be as happy with him as you were with me."
He's not entirely wrong because Darren and I are not together, and we won't be. However, he's wrong about me being happy with him. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been happy at least once, but it was before he revealed his true self. I was already ensnared in his web and unable to break free. When I realized it, it was already too late.
My night is restless; I've slept very little, maybe an hour or two at most. The sound of my alarm clock pulls me out of bed, and I've completely forgotten about my appointment at Darren's office for my divorce. Thankfully, I had set an alarm several days ago. I jump out of bed, realizing my appointment is in less than an hour. I take a quick shower and apply makeup to hide the signs of fatigue on my face. As for my outfit, I settle for simple jeans, a chunky sweater that hides any hint of femininity, and a pair of sneakers.
I grab a taxi on my way out and arrive at the meeting place right on time. My phone is flooded with texts from my lawyer asking when I plan to arrive, followed by a warning that she's going straight to the office. So, I have to pass through reception and explain my situation to be allowed upstairs.
I end up running five minutes late as I enter the meeting room where we met last time. All eyes turn to me – our two lawyers, Louis's satisfied gaze, and Darren's blue eyes, sitting at the end of the table, with a nearly imperceptible smirk.
"Sorry for the delay," I say in a small voice.
I quickly move forward and take a seat in the available chair next to my lawyer. I'm still puzzled by Darren's presence; it's not his client or his case, as far as I know, and I'd rather he wasn't here to observe me.
"We were going to discuss the division of assets," begins Maître Romano. "Has your client made any demands?" he asks.
I take a neatly folded piece of paper from my handbag, listing the belongings I wish to keep – the ones that hold sentimental value for me, though not necessarily financial worth.
I slide the paper over to Louis without looking at him, focusing on his lawyer. They both read the list, and I catch a glimpse, out of the corner of my eye, of Louis shaking his head in denial. He really wants to make my life miserable.
"That's all I want to keep; these items have sentimental value for me. You can keep everything else," I say, almost pleadingly, still avoiding my ex's dark gaze.
Louis, comfortably leaned against the back of his chair, straightens up and leans his chest on the table to get closer. He snaps his fingers near his face to make me look at him, and since I don't want to create a scene, I comply without resistance. His gaze is dark and malevolent, and an air of self-satisfaction is plastered across his face.
"You should just go back! I never agreed to divorce, Savannah, and I won't accept your demands," he says.
He knows how precious these items are to me and has no qualms about tormenting me like this. My eyes moisten quickly, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I get up hastily from my chair and apologize as I leave. I can almost hear Louis's wicked laughter in my head and see his arrogant look, knowing he's managed to break me.
I rush toward the restroom sign and head in that direction. I've barely pushed the door when I collapse in tears, locking myself in a stall. In less than two minutes, the door to the restroom opens, probably my lawyer coming to get me to continue the meeting.
"I'll be back in a minute, Maître," I try to camouflage my broken voice due to my tears but fail.
"Ava," Darren says gently.
- Writer
