“I know.”

I settled on a mind numbing reality show and opened my text book to do some idle studying. We watched a bit before she said, “Why did he take so long to contact you?”

I shrugged. “He travelled for a long time, and he was busy with work.”

Her brows came together. I could see her brain working, but whatever was in there she didn’t vocalise.

“So what went wrong with Derek exactly?” I asked, hiding my smile.

She grunted in disgusted. “Derek’s dick went wrong, that’s what.”

“Thought his name was Darryl.”

She paused and went red.

I let out a laugh. “Caught you, skank.”

She threw a cushion in my face. “Whatever.”

We killed a day watching shit television and eating nasty generic ice cream until our bloated bellies made us look like heavily pregnant chicks. She spent the night in the guest room, and I chatted to Mom for twenty minutes before going to bed.

“Everything going alright?” I said, sounding upbeat.

“Great, and you? Did you have a nice night out?” she asked.

Downplay it, Claire! “Yes, it was pretty good, I guess.”

“I’m so glad, hon. I really like hearing that.”

“Do anything fun?”

“Um, well,” she started, hesitantly. “I’ve done some things.”

“Like what?”

I could hear her moving around like she always did when she was nervous about something. I wondered what was wrong. This wasn’t like her.

“Mom,” I said gently, “whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“To keep my options open, I started applying for jobs here,” she blurted out. “I got a call back at one of the hospitals. I have an interview on Monday. But… You know, I won’t be taking it or anything. I’m just… I just applied for the hell of it. I’d never just leave you behind or anything –”

“Slow down, Mom,” I interrupted her, feeling like my head was about to spin off. “I didn’t even know you were unhappy about your job here.”

“I’m not unhappy or anything. I just did it. One of my spontaneous moments, you know?”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, you’re not a spontaneous person.”

“Maybe I’m trying to be.”

“Maybe you’re trying to get a job there to be with Kevin.”

She didn’t respond right away. When she started to stammer, I cut in with, “If being there with Kevin will make you happy, then you should definitely consider moving there.”

“Really?

Yeah, Claire, really?

Mom was the one constant in my life after I’d been attacked. The thought of being without her made me anxious. But at the same time, I was twenty one, and being on my own was something I’d always aimed for eventually. If she wanted to live with Kevin where she was happy and had a better job, then there was no chance in hell I was going to stand in the way of that.

“Yeah,” I said, genuinely, “really. Keep me updated and let me know how your job interview goes.”

“Okay,” she replied with surprise. “I’ll let you know.”

We changed the subject and chatted about other things before I got off the phone to get some sleep.

I stayed up in bed, smelling the scent of Ben all over my sheets. I stared hard at my still phone, wishing he’d call. Or text me. Or do anything to remind me I wasn’t some afterthought he wouldn’t bother with again.

I got nothing.

Chapter Nine

On her hands and knees

The days passed by.

No word from Ben.

Every second was spent agonizing over our time together. Every minute that passed made my body ache for his touch. Every hour felt like a hundred eternities. And the nights… Don’t get me started on the fucking nights.

It was brutal.

At first I was anxious with anticipation. He said he’d contact me, and I waited impatiently for something to happen. I’d pulled out my phone I’d stored away and rebooted it, at first treating it like a foreign entity I had no clue how to use. Once I familiarized with it again, I bought a month’s worth of credit and let nobody know I was back on the grid. I didn’t want to wait around and get hit with a text that wasn’t from him.

Then I carried my phone like a nun carries her bible. It was my little salvation, breaking more holes in the darkness that nine months had shrouded me in and letting hope shine in.

But anticipation soon faded into confusion. In every way imaginable, I asked myself why he hadn’t reached out, until my sanity was on a decline. When my confusion dissipated, I felt anger.

How the fuck had I let a man control my emotions like this? It was humiliating. I was embarrassed of myself. Of my weakness. Of allowing someone in when they clearly hadn’t done the same. I’d been depressed before, sure. The scars had put me into hiding, but one night with Ben had me crumbling into an insecure mess that had me questioning my sensibility.

Stupid, shallow Claire. Never learning your lesson, huh?

He did what they had all done before him.

Used me. Discarded me.

Forgot me.

*****

I hated school on Wednesdays. One morning class followed by eight hours of waiting around in the library/school grounds before my dreaded night class was exhausting. It had me out of the house the entire day. By the time I got home, it was 10:30pm. An entire day sitting idle gave me busy legs, and so I expelled as much energy as possible by roaming the house well into midnight.

Moby played in the background as I did a sketch. I redrew Ben’s face – not because I was obsessing about it, but because I hoped drawing it would rid me of thinking about him. After all, it helped the first time around.

The second time would prove to be tricky. I added what I missed on my first sketch. It was more detailed by the time I finished, and seeing it look as close to a black and white photograph of him was a punch in the gut.

I was deciding whether to burn the sketch or give him devil horns when the sound of ringing broke through my concentration. I startled and looked down at the vibrating phone, lighting up with the words “PRIVATE NUMBER CALLING” on the screen.

My heart instantly accelerated.

It was him. I was sure of it.

I quickly pressed answer on the screen and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello,” I said, holding my breath.