The Watcher (2 page)

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Authors: Rhiannon Jean

BOOK: The Watcher
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Chapter Two

 

*****

Lily

 

I arrived home, not remembering the drive there, too wrapped up in thinking about the way he was staring at me. I’d been with my husband for almost 6 years, married for 2, and I loved him, but he’d never looked at me like that. I unlocked the door and was immediately greeted by the sounds of a video game blasting through the speakers. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it biting back my tears.

He hadn’t remembered. I didn’t want to have this fight again: the one where I would ask him to turn it down and he would then proceed to tell me everything that was wrong with me, from my selfishness to my weight. I was mentally exhausted and I just wanted to have a few shots, listen to some music, and forget about life for a bit --not end my night slamming the bedroom door in tears. I weighed my options: I could either continue into our cramped little space, argue with him about using his headphones, smell the garbage that hadn’t been taken out, see the pile of dirty dishes in the sink…or I could call out hello, change my clothes, and head out for some “me time.”

Feeling too tired to fight, I chose the latter. I needed time away from our mess of a marriage, I needed loud music, and most of all I needed alcohol. I headed into the bedroom, waving at him as I passed by the living room. He nodded as he continued to yell obscenities at the TV. I greeted my fur balls who were cuddled up on the bed in a rare moment of getting along. I had two cats, Ted and Poe. They were truly a gift from the heavens. They were sweet, loving, and had gotten me through some really rough times in my life.

After much petting and kitten talk, I changed into my dark wash, boot cut jeans and a sheer dark hunter green button up. Then I threw on my black leather jacket and black leather lace up boots. I added some black eyeliner to my simple makeup and smeared on some gloss. I sent my friend Emma a quick text, asking if she was up for a drink. She replied right away, saying she had just finished her last exam and was ready to escape her brain for the rest of the night. I asked if she wanted to meet at the dive bar near school and she quickly replied
YES!!
I smiled and shook my head, thankful to have someone who wanted to spend time with me.

For a moment I thought about the man in the next room and my mood began to darken. He used to want to spend time with me any chance he got. We loved to explore the city, discover unknown restaurants, and try all the cupcake places we could. He used to think my life was important enough to set the video games aside. He would have the house cleaned by the time I got out of work and school. Dinner would be ready or at least started. He used to care where I was or who I was with. He stopped asking questions months ago, stopped cooking, stopped cleaning, and stopped being interested in us. He was out late more and more often. He got texts at all hours of the night, but kept a passcode on his phone so I couldn’t see who they were from. He was becoming this completely different person. Only two years into this marriage, I wondered if I had made the wrong choice.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and promised myself I’d do my soul searching tomorrow. For now I just wanted some down time, away from being a responsible, married adult. I grabbed my purse and keys and waved goodbye. He yelled out asking where I was going, stopping me in my tracks, and making me wonder if he had been having the same thoughts about us. I told him I was meeting up with Emma. I had just opened the door when he yelled again, telling me to behave and not act like a ho while I was out. A proud smile was on his face and he was laughing at his own joke. My eyes teared up and I closed the door and turned around to face him.

“What did you call me?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh lighten up! Quit being such a bitch and take a joke,” he replied.

“Did you seriously just call me the ‘b’ word?”

“Oh my god, here we go with the waterworks. Why are you such a sensitive baby anymore? I can’t have any fun with you.”

“I’m not being a sensitive baby, I’m sick of you calling me names and joking about things that aren’t funny.”

“I know I know, your mom called you a bitch growing up, you hate that word, blah blah blah, get over it.” I just stared at him, tears welling in my eyes and streaming slowly down my face.

“When did you get so hateful?” I asked quietly, “You used to like me and compliment me and actually want to be around me.”

“Oh Jesus, stop sobbing about everything! When did you become such a fucking sissy? You used to be able to take a joke. Now you act like you’re on your period all the fucking time, crying at the drop of the hat. Stop letting your emotions rule you and maybe you’d be more likeable.”

“So it’s me? You’re sitting here, playing video games, yelling, and calling me names, but I’m the one at fault? I just finished one of the toughest semesters of my life all the while working 40 hours a week and cooking and cleaning and keeping our house in working order and you don’t even have the decency to ask me how I am! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You, you are wrong with me. You’ve become this crazy bitch about everything. I work 60 hours a week and pay for that food that’s showing up on your ass. You’re a spoiled brat, you know that Lily? I’m allowed to come home and relax and play my video games and do whatever the fuck I want with my time off. I don’t have to be with you every second of the day!”

“Ryan, I haven’t seen you in a week, except sitting here on this couch playing on the computer or watching TV. You don’t even let me sit in here anymore because you want time to unwind. I have to hole up in our bedroom and hide. This isn’t a marriage, we’re freaking roommates! Do you even love me anymore?”

“I did before you got fucking fat. Did you ever use that gym membership I got you? Maybe I’d want to be around you more often if you weren’t such a fatass! Don’t you have any pride in yourself? Don’t you look in the mirror? Jesus, Lily, you’d think you’d want me to be attracted to you! How can I love you if I don’t even want to touch you? Maybe you should take some advice from Katie, she works out all the time and runs health food seminars online. You could learn a thing or two from her.”

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open and tears running down my face. As he said her name, I could feel it start again. My body began to feel hot with rage and I stayed perfectly still, as though I were prey trying to trick my hunter. The bars of self-preservation came down hard, like the jail cell I felt I lived in. Over my eyelids, they fell first, hiding any thoughts and emotions. Then the bars closed down over my skin, so his touch wouldn’t fool me. Then finally, they moved over my heart to protect it from further damage.

Although, sometimes the bars not only protected me, they hurt me as well. They held in the pain that sliced new wounds into the old scars that had finally healed. I told myself to breathe evenly and remain calm, though the demons inside were clawing at my skin to escape. Deep down I had known her name would eventually come up, but I wasn’t prepared for the damage it would cause.

I remembered he had recently told me if I gained any more weight, he would no longer be attracted to me. A part of me had died that day. That was the day I began staring in the mirror and noticing every flaw, every dimple, and every blemish. I bought workout DVDs and organic food and never went out to eat anymore. I had been working so hard to lose a few pounds, but between work and school, I didn’t have much time. I’d lost 10lbs after trying really hard, but apparently he hadn’t even noticed. I closed my mouth, raised my chin, and looked at him defiantly.

“You’re an asshole,” I said finally. “Maybe you should stay with a friend tonight. I really don’t want you here when I get back. You’re a mean soul, Ryan, and I’m sorry I fell in love with you.”

I walked out the door and slammed it behind me. I walked quickly to my car and set up my playlist to 90s alternative. I pulled up Alice in Chains,
Down in a Hole
and tried not to cry. This song spoke to me in this moment, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to dig myself out of this hole that was my life.

I couldn’t believe he had compared me to
her
! I so wanted to believe she was just a co-worker, but the more he stayed at work late and the meaner he got, the further my trust slipped. Moreover, I couldn’t believe he’d brought up my mom. He knew what a sore subject she was. More and more he’d brought up my past, throwing it in my face almost as if he was trying to hurt me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. All I could hear was my mom calling me a stupid bitch and a fat bitch as she hit me and my little sister with her belt, a hanger, the metal hairbrush. We never knew exactly why we were in trouble, but she made it known that she hated her kids. That word and those beatings stayed with me even into adulthood.

Just that one sentence from Ryan threw me back in time to when I was a cowering little girl. He knew that was one of the reasons that had caused me to take all those pills years ago. He knew I hated the word bitch, the word stupid, and the word fat. I now saw that he didn’t care. He used them to “joke” with me then yelled at me for not laughing. How could I be in love with someone like that? I guess the joke
was
really on me.

And Katie? How could I be so blind? All my awkwardness and self-loathing came rushing back to me. He was supposed to love me no matter what, right? Isn’t that what marriage is all about? If I was unhealthy or at risk for disease, that’s one thing, but because he thought my curves were too much I was supposed to change for him? I realized that I hadn’t been naked around him since that day. I wore my clothes like armor, shielding any unwanted looks or disgusted faces from my view. The rationale is that I shut down emotionally before the worst has a chance to happen, so when it inevitably does, I will have preserved a tiny piece of my heart. So much was left unspoken, the moment he spoke her name. I needed to drink these feelings away and fix the armor around my heart to preserve it from further pain.

I opened my eyes, rolled down my windows, and took a few calming breaths as I drove to meet Emma. I checked my mascara in the mirror and reapplied my lip gloss. Finally the excitement of finals being over and going out with my best friend began to set in and I let go of my life’s worries for now. They would still be there tomorrow. I was tired of feeling sad and small and lost. For now, I wanted to revel in the sweet relief of passing yet another tough semester and the taste of a shot of Jameson coating my throat and warming my insides. My mouth began to water as I imagined that first shot.

 

*****

Gabriel

 

Confession: I followed her home. I couldn’t help myself. She had looked into my eyes and I could have sworn she saw right through to my core. I just wanted to see her for a little longer tonight. I promised myself I’d leave after just a glimpse of her. I’d watched her getting ready for bed before and it was my favorite time of the day. She’d put on her favorite ratty pajamas, pulled her hair into a ponytail, washed her face, and arranged her bed just so. I never actually watched her change, as I wanted her to know I was there the first time I ever saw that gorgeous body without clothes. But I watched her routine, memorizing the curve of her hip in her yoga pants, the way her tank top showed off her ample cleavage, and the way her body moved as she arranged her pillows and blankets.

I wanted to bury myself in her and knock all those pillows and blankets to floor as I pounded into her so hard she forgot what day of the week it was. Tonight was different though. She was getting ready to go out with her friend instead of getting ready for bed. I watched as that prick of a husband ignored her when she walked into their home. The home she had worked so hard to create for them. I watched her face and shoulders fall the moment she got into her bedroom. I know she had been hoping for something more than silence from him.

Lately they had done nothing but fight as he stayed out later and later. I’d watched her check her phone over and over those nights. She never gave up hope that he would put her first. I knew better. I’d known plenty of men like him. I never followed him, but I knew that he wasn’t being faithful to her. A tear ran down her cheek and I waged an inner war with myself. God, I wanted to gather her in my arms and soothe those tears away with kisses and the sweet words she deserved to hear, but I couldn’t risk showing myself for fear of her freaking out and running away from me forever.

I turned my back as she changed her outfit but turned back around the moment I heard her zip her pants. The sight of her knocked the breath out of me. I’d only ever seen her in her professional work attire and her pajamas before. For tonight she’d chosen a see through green top with a lacy black bra underneath and a pair of jeans that hugged her curves. When I saw her lace up her boots and grab a black leather jacket, my mouth went dry. I wanted to see her in the boots and jacket and nothing else. She continued on to fix her makeup, which made those gorgeous eyes stand out and even look a little wicked. Fuck, I wasn’t letting her out of my sight tonight. I might even show myself to her again, just to see that blush.

I heard her husband call out to her as she started to leave and watched her pause at the door. When she turned around, her eyes were filled with tears. I fisted my hands at my sides and tried to hold in my anger as he called her a bitch and berated her for not finding him funny. My girl stood her ground though, calling him out on his recent bullshit. I was proud of her for not just letting him say what he wanted. So many times I’d watched her stay silent, and then run to her room in tears and hide the rest of the night.

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