secret, you know," he went on jovially. I don't know if it was a phantom pain or just his nearness, but the place under my ribs felt tender again. My breath came in short, shallow gasps as fear took hold of me. "How you, of all people, managed to keep your job. Who did you convince? Or maybe I should be asking how exactly you convinced them?" His voice took on an air of menace. "Was it while we were together?"
I pulled out my notebook. Just a short half-hour ago, I had been sitting and laughing with Keir like we were old friends again. I had almost forgotten… Almost forgotten the danger I was in.
One interesting side effect of living with my parents, and then with Kevin, was that I could feel anger with just the shift of air currents. Kevin's irritation with me for ignoring him was reaching dangerous heights. The swirling currents were cold around me, like a sudden barometer shift.
Abuse has its own climate.
He leaned over the cubicle. He must've been standing on a fucking chair, he was that desperate to get into my space, to intimidate me. "And where are you living these days, Scarlett? I'm worried about you. How will I know you are safe?"
I stood back up again, ready to make a break for the ladies' room, when I spied my salvation in the form of Marcia from HR.
"Mr. Cunningham, I'm calling security in five minutes. You were supposed to be out of the building by noon."
Kevin moved away from me, and the air around me was suddenly warmer, sweeter. I still refused to look at him, but I knew exactly what he was doing—smiling charmingly at Marcia, batting away her brusqueness with his boyish excuses. He was "just saying his goodbyes." He was "going to miss it here." Lies, lies, lies.
I stood up and smoothed my hands over the skirt I had chosen for Keir's interview. I walked away, hoping that Kevin would pay me no mind, that this was done. We no longer worked together, he didn't know where I lived...
I was safe.
Once in the ladies room, I splashed some cold water on my face. My eyes looked a little red-rimmed, a little spongy around the edges, but otherwise I could pass for normal. All I had to do now was go back to my desk and begin work on the piece that would save my career.
I had done it. I had seen Keir after five long years, and dare I say I had actually enjoyed it?
I really must be a fucking masochist.
But after the initial drama and panic, Keir and I had settled into something almost like our old comfort. An uneasy but friendly truce. I sat back down at my desk and flipped through my notes, startled at how much of what I had gotten was just small talk, catching up on the past that haunted us both.
He asked me questions, and I answered them, then asked him some in return. That's all that happened, and yet there was something hanging in the air the whole time. It was something real, something tangible that I could reach out and grab if I wanted to...but I wasn't sure I wanted to.
It frightened me how much I wanted to have...whatever it was.
Have it once again.
"How are your brothers?" he asked. Small talk. The easy stuff. It was so fucking easy to talk to him.
"Clark is good. Lives in Kenmore with Dayna."
"Didn't he have a baby on the way?"
He remembered. Of course he did. I nodded. "Hailey is five. They have a little boy too, Clark Junior."
"Sheesh."
"I know, she started kindergarten in the fall."
"And your other brothers? Michael? Matthew?"
I grimaced. "I...don't know. I haven't talked to them."
His eyes went wide. "Really."
I felt my chin jut out a little. "It's better that way."
"And your parents?"
I swallowed. "Haven't talked to them either."
"Really? For how long?"
I bit my lip. It was like he was shining a spotlight right on the wounded spot. "For five years," I exhaled.
He sat back heavily. "I wasn't expecting that."
I felt a sudden flash of anger. "Could we talk about something else?"
"Like what?"
"Like anything at all. I cut them out of my life, Keir. And I'm happier for
I pulled out my notebook. Just a short half-hour ago, I had been sitting and laughing with Keir like we were old friends again. I had almost forgotten… Almost forgotten the danger I was in.
One interesting side effect of living with my parents, and then with Kevin, was that I could feel anger with just the shift of air currents. Kevin's irritation with me for ignoring him was reaching dangerous heights. The swirling currents were cold around me, like a sudden barometer shift.
Abuse has its own climate.
He leaned over the cubicle. He must've been standing on a fucking chair, he was that desperate to get into my space, to intimidate me. "And where are you living these days, Scarlett? I'm worried about you. How will I know you are safe?"
I stood back up again, ready to make a break for the ladies' room, when I spied my salvation in the form of Marcia from HR.
"Mr. Cunningham, I'm calling security in five minutes. You were supposed to be out of the building by noon."
Kevin moved away from me, and the air around me was suddenly warmer, sweeter. I still refused to look at him, but I knew exactly what he was doing—smiling charmingly at Marcia, batting away her brusqueness with his boyish excuses. He was "just saying his goodbyes." He was "going to miss it here." Lies, lies, lies.
I stood up and smoothed my hands over the skirt I had chosen for Keir's interview. I walked away, hoping that Kevin would pay me no mind, that this was done. We no longer worked together, he didn't know where I lived...
I was safe.
Once in the ladies room, I splashed some cold water on my face. My eyes looked a little red-rimmed, a little spongy around the edges, but otherwise I could pass for normal. All I had to do now was go back to my desk and begin work on the piece that would save my career.
I had done it. I had seen Keir after five long years, and dare I say I had actually enjoyed it?
I really must be a fucking masochist.
But after the initial drama and panic, Keir and I had settled into something almost like our old comfort. An uneasy but friendly truce. I sat back down at my desk and flipped through my notes, startled at how much of what I had gotten was just small talk, catching up on the past that haunted us both.
He asked me questions, and I answered them, then asked him some in return. That's all that happened, and yet there was something hanging in the air the whole time. It was something real, something tangible that I could reach out and grab if I wanted to...but I wasn't sure I wanted to.
It frightened me how much I wanted to have...whatever it was.
Have it once again.
"How are your brothers?" he asked. Small talk. The easy stuff. It was so fucking easy to talk to him.
"Clark is good. Lives in Kenmore with Dayna."
"Didn't he have a baby on the way?"
He remembered. Of course he did. I nodded. "Hailey is five. They have a little boy too, Clark Junior."
"Sheesh."
"I know, she started kindergarten in the fall."
"And your other brothers? Michael? Matthew?"
I grimaced. "I...don't know. I haven't talked to them."
His eyes went wide. "Really."
I felt my chin jut out a little. "It's better that way."
"And your parents?"
I swallowed. "Haven't talked to them either."
"Really? For how long?"
I bit my lip. It was like he was shining a spotlight right on the wounded spot. "For five years," I exhaled.
He sat back heavily. "I wasn't expecting that."
I felt a sudden flash of anger. "Could we talk about something else?"
"Like what?"
"Like anything at all. I cut them out of my life, Keir. And I'm happier for
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