By Alexa Nieves
I feel like I am getting hit on the head with a mallet every time I hear that laugh. Sight slowly flowed back to my eyes and my throat tightened. My heart banged furiously on my chest begging to be freed. The wispy hairs on arms stood up one by one as if they were dancing. Every ounce of my body: frozen. All I could do was look at that ravenous monster displayed in front of me. The exasperated laughter continued to crackled like a sizzling vat of oil.
“Wow, you don’t look good. Rough day?”
”Rough year,” I quipped back as my vocal chords scratched nervously against each other.
“Just calm down. Geez, you’re always on edge. Oh… a fight with Noah? I knew it wouldn’t last,” he expressed with that dumb, smug smirk spread across his face. That dumb, smug, hot smirk.
Ugh, I silently scolded myself. I hate how after all this, I’m still attracted to him. I try to avoid his glare. Suddenly, this right corner of the floor is fascinating. I feel the tension bubbling inside of me. Just being in the same room as him turns my brain into a cloud of smoke. Gosh, even in that neon jumpsuit, his immaculacy shines through. I jolt my dad to the side, entreating myself to focus.
I scoffed, crossing many arms in front of myself, ”I’m not interested in small talk. What did you call me over here for?”
”Seriously? I can’t just want some time with my wife?” He almost sounded hurt.
“Ex-wife,” I corrected, standing my ground. “If you have something to say, hurry up. I’m late for a lunch,” I pause debating how much information to leak, “with Noah.”
He physically flinched. He gently tamed his hair, desperately attempting to appear calm.
”Ugh Jackson, I knew this would be a waste of my time.” I almost never called him by his full name when we were married, it was always ‘Jack’ or ‘Jackie.’ I shoved my phone into my too-small pocket as I stood up heading towards the door.
“You’re going to sit back down right now!” He abused the table with his fists.
Suddenly, I was 22 again. I could still remember the day so crisply in my mind. Plop, plop. My heavy tears slammed vigorously on the ground. I tried to be tough and keep them from pouring out, but it was a lost cause. I swiped at each droplet with unsteady hands. I struggled to reason with myself, convinced myself that this couldn’t have been purposeful. Maybe his hand really did slip. Maybe I was overreacting. No! I’m sick of justifying his actions to myself.
I couldn’t shut my brain down. What is he doing now? Thank God Levi is sleeping. How long would it be before he came rumbling back in here? I have to leave.
My gut urging me to escape. I just keep replaying that moment over and over in my head. The wya that plate flew across the room towards me like a frisbee. It felt so sudden, but yet like it was in slow motion. I held my sore arm tighter. He has been really quiet. Too quiet.
I slowly inch my way closer to the door frame. Jackson is no where in sight. I peeled the blinds apart to see if his car was still parked outside. I blinked hard to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I bolted to the front door instantaneously, hut by the team I had reached the yard, he had already driven away.
”Come back!” I debated chasing after him, but I knew that I would never catch up at this rate. I scurried back in the foyer and demantalized everything in search of my phone. “Finally!” I praised God. A flood of emotions washed over me all at once. Worry. Panic. Stress. Sadness. Anger. Streaming anger. Revenge.