And even as hard as I try, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when things changed. I don’t even know if there was an exact second in time that he became someone I no longer recognized. Maybe it was a gradual transition once he got hired at the law firm. Maybe he saw what others had, and since he was never willing to put in the same amount of work, he became bitter and entitled. None of it matters now. These are his and Cynthia’s problems to contend with.
Jason isn’t smiling now, and his eyes are circled with exhaustion, the normally vibrant skin a sickly dull color. It’s clear he didn’t get much sleep last night, and I can already predict how this conversation is going to go before he takes a seat across from me.
He holds his hand up and snaps his fingers to get the waitress’s attention before he even greets me.
Has he always behaved this way? Was I blind to his blatant level of disrespect for others?
My parents told me they didn’t have a clue that Jason had moved another woman into our apartment. My mother sobbed for over an hour last night when I explained who the woman was that helped me get my things in the car. She’s more distraught than I am over the dissolution of our relationship. I never confessed the decline in our relationship with my parents. I figured if I hadn’t made a plan to leave him, then complaining about something I was tolerating was unnecessary.
Like any good man, my father wanted to go to his house and beat the crap out of him, but I reminded him that doing so would be illegal, and he backed down rather quickly. I explained things then, letting them know that I was unhappy long before I was abducted. Ma’s tears began to dry, but Pa spent the remainder of the evening consoling her and reminding me how strong and beautiful I am, and that I don’t need a man to be whole.
This isn’t something new to me. My father has always urged me to be independent. I think that’s why I’m in my early thirties and still haven’t gotten married yet. It’s why I knew deep down that I’d never take the next step to spend the rest of my life with a man like Jason.
I didn’t explain my feelings for Ryan simply because I don’t completely understand them myself.
As I watch Jason chastise the waitress for overfilling his coffee cup, I can’t help feeling relief over dodging this bullet. It still doesn’t keep me from criticizing myself to agreeing to meet him today, though. I should’ve left well enough alone, but after he called my parents’ house incessantly this morning, I gave in, capitulating to a final meeting before I wash my hands of him for good.
“What did you want to discuss?”
He looks up from his coffee as if he’s annoyed that I’m sitting here in front of him when he’s the one who suggested we meet, and it takes a lot of control to keep my lip from twitching with how funny it is to me now, how easy it is to take a step back and see his true colors.
He watches me for a few long moments, and I want to shy away when his eyes dart to the scarf covering my shaved head. I know he saw the damage that was done to my hair before he took off from Miami, and the look on his face tells me that he sees me as less than a woman. It’s what I felt as Ryan used the clippers to trim away the long tresses. Only now, I stiffen my spine rather than give in to the burn of tears behind my eyes.
“You look like a cancer patient,” he says as he tilts his head to the side, and I can see the wheels turning in his own head. He’s trying to figure out a way to take advantage of this entire situation, to use my tragedy to gain a higher foothold for himself.
I want to kick myself for being so blind to his arrogance, egotism, and narcissism for so long. This man is toxic. He’s a controlling coward, and although he’s never raised a hand to strike me, I don’t doubt that he would, eventually. He’d have no other recourse when the words he used as weapons were no longer effective.
“Any other snide comments you feel like making about my appearance?” I snap, my lip twitching in irritation now rather than humor.
His eyes fill with fake sympathy as he reaches across the table to clasp my hands. I pull them back and place them in my lap, refusing to let him touch me.
“Cynthia left me.” He says this with as much emotion as I feel toward him right now, which is a tablespoon short of a teaspoon.
I don’t respond to him, but on the inside, I’m throwing that woman a party all the while praying for the sanity of the next girl he lures in with his bright eyes and winning smile.
“I miss you, and I want us to work things out.”
I scoff at his declaration.
“You don’t miss me. You need someone to be at your beck and call. You want someone to be waiting for you when you get home like they can’t breathe until you arrive and chip them off a little piece of your attention. You want a maid and a cook, and someone to rant to when you’ve been overlooked for another promotion by the person who always works harder than you. You want someone to agree with you when you complain about being discriminated against even though you’re nothing more than an entitled, wealthy, white man who doesn’t understand the privileges afforded to him just by breathing air.”
Jason looks at me with his jaw hanging slightly open, but he doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t argue or counter my claims. I think I’ve stunned him. I’ve never said such things to him, never stood up for myself, or put his own flaws on display the way he did to me so readily and often.
“You don’t want me, Jason, and things haven’t been good between us for a long time.”
“You promised to marry me,” he finally mutters. “You agreed to be my wife.”
“You put me on the spot in the middle of your company’s Fourth of July bash. That wasn’t for me. It was for a show, another way for you to be the center of attention among your bosses and coworkers.”
“You said yes.”
“I regretted it the second the word fell from my lips.”
“You love me.”
“I loved you,” I clarify. “And that love died long ago.”
“Is this because of him?”
I don’t even have to ask who he’s talking about. He’s well aware of where I’ve been the last couple of weeks.
“This is because you’re bitter and hateful. This is because I deserve more than you’ll ever have to offer. You need to work on yourself and your own character flaws before you can even begin to be truly happy or make someone feel loved by you. I’m not arm candy. I’m not invisible except for the times when showing me off benefits you.”
He doesn’t have a rebuttal as I stand.
“Goodbye, Jason.”
A couple of women clap as I leave the diner, and my cheeks flush as I realize my voice had gotten louder and louder as I continued to speak to him. Pride fills my chest as I walk to the parking lot to climb into my dad’s waiting car. I feel invincible. I feel powerful, and I can finally breathe deep without choking on that freedom.
“Where to, Mija?” Dad asks as he waits for me to put my seatbelt on.
“To the mall. I have some demons to conquer.”
Chapter 27
Scooter
Two weeks of silence.
Two weeks of misery.
Two weeks of utter boredom.
My will to give Mia space is running dry.