Thrive: Chapter 15

Mikka

“I’m not giving up, Mikka,” his voice rasped over the phone. Hearing it for the first time in about a week and a half jarred me. I’d never been away from Dougie this long and when he called again after all the texts he’d sent, I knew it was time to answer.

“I don’t like to think of it as that,” I replied. I actually hated thinking of it like that. It made me want to fly back to LA and claw my way through the relationship just because the sheer frustration of not being the best at something crippled me.

“Then don’t. You’ve been the best at everything. You were top of your class, you took a job with a top agency and you PA for a top actor, baby. You never once gave up when you were pushing through college and working. We’ve been through it all and giving up on our relationship now . . .” He paused for the full effect and sighed. “That’s not you. You and I can do this. This is a rough patch, and I need you home to get through it.”

His words fueled something in me. They reminded me that Dougie knew me, inside and out. He knew how to manipulate me, mold me, and sculpt me into what he wanted.

I hated that I’d let it get this far.

“I can’t come home, Dougie. I just can’t.” The first tear slipped. For him. For us. For the life we’d had and the life I’d dreamed of us living.

“You need to get your ass home.” The deep, guttural command he spat into the phone shocked fear straight back into me. It flew through my veins like ice, freezing over my confidence at handling everything and frosting up my mind so that I couldn’t think straight.

“Dougie, please . . .” I pleaded with him as if he ruled over me, and my body believed it. I even went to stand over my suitcase.

“Please, what? I let you stay there for a fucking week. You keep acting like you’re out there fixing something. If you don’t get your ass back here, I’ll make sure you’re so broken, no one will be able to fix you.”

His threat hammered home the last nail in the coffin that held our relationship. He’d reminded me of the rules I had with Jay: I wasn’t broken. I was strong. I’d always been strong.

And maybe I was stronger after having to survive him too.

“No.” One word. It quaked out of me, but it was a resounding declaration that gained momentum in my soul.

“No?” His voice went up ten octaves.

“No, Dougie. I’m done with us. I’m coming home in three weeks to move everything, but we can’t go on like this. I’m unhappy, and so are you.”

“Look, baby. Be reasonable, okay? This is stressful for both of us.” He paused. “I won’t hurt you again.” He said the words low, like someone might be listening, like he was ashamed to speak the situation into existence.

Truthfully, I was. I looked around as if someone might hear the conversation.

“I know you won’t hurt me again,” I whispered back.

I didn’t know though. I didn’t remember when I’d lost faith over the past month because I’d believed him the first time he’d said it wouldn’t happen again.

I believed him the second.

And the third.

Somewhere, my belief died. I was only realizing now that I had accepted his violence as a part of our relationship I would just have to cover up.

It was unhealthy.

And I was far enough away that a small amount of light shined through, making everything clear to me. I didn’t have to live this way, nor did I want to. There were other men out there, other possible futures that I deserved to see. The cloud that hovered over us had been blown away by distance, and I saw so much more clearly now.

“I’m sorry, Dougie. I love you, but I can’t be in love with you anymore.”

“Is this because of him?” His voice turned; the edge was back, cutting our cordial conversation short like a sharp knife slicing through a tender heart. As fast as a conman switches personalities, he warped into the man I feared. Him jumping back and forth from sweet to vicious was a clear sign that he wasn’t controlling his abusive tendencies. It was a sign I’d missed for so long. My heart sped up as if he was in the room with me, as if I was physically in danger again.

I heard a creak from the next room and took a deep breath, reminding myself that Jay was just in the room over, that I was about to have dinner with him and Lorraine half a country away from Dougie.

“No. It’s because I’ve come to terms with what I need. That isn’t you.” My voice shook along with the hand holding the phone.

“I’ll make you see that it is. We haven’t come this far so you can fuck it all up, Mikka. You get your ass home now.”

I glanced at my suitcase, lying empty in the corner of the room. The urge to listen and do as I was told was there. I shoved it down, pushed it away.

“Please pack your things. I’m cancelling our lease.”

He started to yell something into the phone, but I hung up.

I silenced and threw the phone away from me like it was a hot potato. Then I collapsed on the bed and listened to the fall bugs outside my window. I’d started to enjoy the sound, so different from city cars. The scent of vegetation coming through the open window was much richer than in LA too.

Did small town life fill everyone’s bones with a sense of relief? Could I fit in here, stay, and become part of a place that was a blip on everyone else’s radar but was becoming everything on mine?

“Mikka!” Lorraine’s voice carried from downstairs. “Delilah wants some help down the street. We need to go.”

Of course Lorraine didn’t ask if I was available to go. She expected my help, and for some reason my heart warmed at the idea. She’d taken me under her wing and was spreading me around the community like I could fit right in.

“I’ll be right down,” I said loudly and jumped from the bed.

When Jay asked if he could tag along to help, Lorraine shook her head, saying she needed him to watch dinner.

Out on the sidewalk with the light of the setting sun on our skin, she glanced at me. “I heard your phone conversation.”

“Excuse me,” I stuttered, my world tilting. What had she heard? Would she tell others?

“Don’t look at me like I’m a gossip. Of course I’m not going to share your business.” She smiled at me, the wrinkles crinkling on her face. “Yet.”

“Lorraine—” I started.

She cut me off. “I told you my husband died. He died nice and slow, might I add. And I didn’t enjoy any one of those excruciating moments of him screaming on his deathbed.”

“I’m so sorry,” I murmured, not knowing where she was going with the conversation.

“You’d think I would have, considering how he threw a good punch every time he drank or got mad at me.”

I halted midstride. I grabbed her hand without realizing and squeezed. The woman wasn’t much bigger than me. Her kind eyes and high cheekbones were still absolutely stunning, even with her gray hair and hunched over figure. She tried to keep up appearances by curling her hair every day and wearing gold studs. She was the fabulous embodiment of life and the wisdom you gained by surviving it.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Lorraine,” I said softly. “It’s not right and, quite honestly, I don’t understand how anyone could ever get mad at you.”

“Oh, really?” She cackled and pointed toward Delilah’s shop. It smelled divine right outside the pink doors and cotton candy colored letters to match read above, “Delilah’s Treats.”

Lorraine pushed through the doors and yelled toward the back door, “Delilah! Mikka here is confused as to why my dead husband used to knock me around.”

A woman not much taller than me but about the same age pushed through a white swinging door smiling. Her rosy cheeks and big doe eyes along with her wider hips and the apron sitting atop them made her the picture-perfect owner of the shop. She stood behind a window counter filled with intricate chocolate truffles and swiped at some melted chocolate on her face. Her loose bun was the same color as her treats.

She shook her head at Lorraine after glancing at me. “Lorraine, that man would have knocked you around even more for putting this woman here on the spot.”

“You’re scolding me?” Lorraine asked, placing her hand on her chest as if affronted. “Mikka deserves it. She keeps trying to hide secrets from me while staying in my house. She thought I wouldn’t listen in on her conversation with her now ex-boyfriend.”

Delilah’s eyes grew even bigger as she put both hands on the clear counter. Then she glared at Lorraine. “You’re intolerable at times!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lorraine waved her off. “Meet Mikka, porn shop aficionado and Jay’s mediocre PA. She can stir chocolate while I do the frosting.”

Delilah came around the counter and stuck a hand out. “Sorry for her. I’m really happy you’re here to help. I pay in as much dessert as you can eat.”

“Pleasure to be dragged around town by this lovely woman.” I returned her handshake and instantly felt warmer from it.

Delilah proceeded to walk me through the steps of melting different chocolate chips and mixing them so they had the right colors and flavors. She wanted peanut butter added sometimes, or molasses, or caramel, or vanilla. She dropped lavender in sometimes even and my mouth watered through the whole evening.

When we finally took a break to rest, I moaned into a lavender and caramel one that she’d frosted with gold tips. “This is so, so divine.”

“Not as divine as leaving that abusive lump of a man behind, I bet,” Lorraine grumbled around her own truffle.

“Lorraine!” Delilah yelped at her.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Not one person had guessed Dougie’s behavior except Jay. I wondered if it was because I had hid it so well or because no one had cared enough to notice.

Lorraine stared at me. Her eyes dug deep like she was trying to shovel out all my secrets. Then her wrinkled hand with two turquoise rings on it grabbed mine and squeezed like I had hers. “Don’t worry. I know how hard it is to admit the first time. You’ll remember soon enough you’re not the one who should feel ashamed.”

I shook my head at her and then at Delilah who moved in to hug me. I didn’t realize I was crying until Lorraine lifted her hand to wipe away my tears.