“C’mon, Baby, I need it. Go back and get it for me. Please?”

Ethan’s voice had that edge of whiney insistence that I absolutely despised. I hated that tone of voice and loathed all of his stupid endearing pet names for me; Baby, Lover, Beautiful. They were so callus, so empty, so meaningless. 

So manipulative.

“It’s so late,” I protested weakly, knowing as I did so that it would make no difference whatsoever. It would make no difference to Ethan that I had to get up at six the next morning for my shift at the diner…but I would go regardless, just to get away from him.

This was one of Ethan’s little games. He would send me out to the convenience store down the street at midnight or later to pick up something; milk, toilet paper, ice cream- whatever- then when I returned, he would claim to have ‘just remembered’ something else he desperately needed, and I’d have to go out again. It was one of many of his little mind games.

“It won’t take long,” Ethan insisted, and he fucking smiled at me. I felt anger smouldering in the pit of my stomach, but I was so tired and knew better than to let his goading stoke the flames. It was so pointless.

I saw Ethan slowly reach for one of the pocket knives; the one he always kept by the bedside table. His scare tactic. Sometimes it was enough to freak me out, other times I waited to try and call his bluff…but I ended up being the chicken every time. 

If it were my blood Ethan was threatening to spill, if I was the one he intended to inflict the damage on, things would’ve been very different. I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.

“God, Ethan, don’t,” I sighed, as he flicked the knife open and held it to his wrist, making the blade flash in the lamplight for dramatic effect. He paused and looked up at me, and gave that God awful shit-eating grin again. “I’m going, I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks, Baby, you’re the best. I love you so much.” He gushing was sickeningly, but he was snapping the knife shut and lying it back down on the bedside table. “I’ll keep the sheets warm for you. C’mere and gimme a kiss before you go.”

I went over to where he was lying naked on the tumbled sheets, and bent to peck his lips. He grabbed me by the hair, crushing my lips against his, and thrusting his tongue into my mouth. At one point, I might have recoiled…but again, what was the point?

I hadn’t meant it for months, but Ethan still seemed to be under the impression that he could make me do so, by kissing rougher, thrusting deeper, jerking harder. He had also long ago forgotten that there was meant to be more pleasure than pain involved in fucking.  

Finally, he let me up and I gave him a fake, watery smile. I hadn’t bothered to take my shoes off, and they squelched with wetness as I went back out the door and down the creaking stairs, not looking back, but feeling Ethan’s eyes following me.

It was still sleeting in icy sheets when I got outside again. I shivered and pulled my wet jacket more tightly around me, wishing I’d had the sense to grab my toque. I’d forgotten to look at Ethan’s digital alarm clock before I’d left the apartment, but I guessed now that it must be about 1:30am. The streets were deserted, except for the odd car passing by, splashing waves of water up onto the sidewalk in golden spray, illuminated by the streetlights. 

I felt in my sopping wet coat pocket for the little can of mace I had taken to carrying around with me. Just as a precaution, now that I seemed to be making a habit of being out after dark in the down-and-out district of Pittsburgh. Now that I was a creature of the night, both in body and soul.

It had been three months since I had made the biggest fucking mistake of my life, and two and a half since I began to pay dearly for it. There wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t regret leaving Brian. And not a nanosecond that went by when I didn’t regret that it had been for Ethan.

Once Ethan knew how to manipulate me, he did it all the time; he got off on it. 

He’d only had to do it for real that first time, and I would never forget the horror and trauma of it as long as I lived. Like Lady MacBeth, I had spent days, weeks afterwards on my hands and knees with a dish rag, washing pools of phantom blood off Ethan’s kitchen floor.

But the very worst part about it all was that I knew I must still love him…because I still cared, because I still gave a flying fuck about him. I still came home every day horrified that I’d find him hanging from the rafters if I’d given the slightest hint to anyone about what was going on.

Ethan called it love…so perhaps it was. So why did I still feel like I was drowning; like wave after black wave was crashing over me even as I fought to keep my head above the perilously dark surface?

Brian, of course, was the only one who had become really suspicious. Lately, he’d begun to ask so many pointed questions- about my constant fatigue, my weight loss, my absence from any and all social events- that I’d started to avoid him all together during my shifts at the diner. This was a mistake on my part, as it had made Brian even more suspicious and even harder to avoid.

The six block walk to the 24-hour corner store seemed to take much longer than usual in the miserable sleet. When I finally got there, I pulled open the swing door with numb hands, welcoming the blessed warmth of the store’s interior. Chen, the little Chinese man who always worked the graveyard shift, greeted me cheerfully from behind the counter.

“Hello! You back again? Your boyfriend want salami? Chocolate bar?”

I had explained to Chen exactly why I came in here two or three times a night, several nights a week- mainly because I was sure he didn’t really understand. I felt I had to tell someone, and as Chen barely spoke English, I guessed he was a pretty safe bet. I suppose it was like the way women (and Emmett) told their hairdressers everything.

“Yeah, I’m back.” I sighed, surveying the cooler beside the counter for the brand of fruit juice Ethan had specifically requested. “I just hope he won’t make me come out again. It’s fucking cold out there.”

“I hope so too,” Chen agreed, cheerfully. “You look like you freezing to death…You buy two of those, get half price.” He added this as I selected a glass bottle from the lowest shelf, making all the other bottles shift and clink together. The sound seemed extraordinarily loud, and jangled at my raw nerves.

“Nah, I just need one,” I replied, placing the bottle on the counter and fishing through my pockets for what little change I had. Ethan always made me pay for his little indulgences out of my own pocket, and as I result, I couldn’t actually afford to feed myself. I literally lived off of handouts from the diner.

“Your boyfriend happy tonight?” Chen asked conversationally, as he rang in the purchase. This was always that main topic of conversation between the two of us.

“He’s always happy,” I muttered bitterly, pushing damp hair out of my eyes, “as long as I always do exactly what he says. As long as he’s not threatening that he’ll slice his wrists open if I do otherwise, he’s fantastic.”

“I so glad.” Chen smiled at me. “$2.50, please.”

It was just as I laid the coins down on the counter- the exact change in quarters and dimes- that I felt a large, warm hand close over the back of my neck.

The touch was so familiar- I had dreamed of it every night for three months- that I knew instantly who the presence behind me belonged to. But I couldn’t believe it. It just could not be. It wasn’t possible…was it?

I felt a flood of panic as I realized that if, but some insane twist of fate it was who I was sure it was, he had heard every word of our little exchange. Had heard, and understood.

Feeling my heart skipping beats, I turned very slowly, and looked up into Brian’s face.