Lucky for me, there was wine at home, and I downed my first glass of pinot in roughly zero point five seconds.
I'm now eagerly moving onto my next as my muscles finally start to relax after a hot shower. I was just short of taking a layer of skin off while washing away all of the dirt from that stockroom.
As I sip away, I start to feel that warm, cozy feeling I usually do when I indulge.
I've been obsessively refreashing Sarah's Instagram feed since she posted a few pictures earlier tonight. It looks like she's at Wills show. I'm not quite sure why, but it makes me feel a little sad.
It's only nine, but Jamie should have been home hours ago. I should have called him hours ago to check in too. Pulling his number up on my phone, the little smiley face I have beside his name bounces on the screen. That first glass of wine went down a little too well it seems.
I press call and Jamie answers almost immediately.
"Hey babe! Sorry, I know I should have called you, it's been a hell of a day here."
There's a whole bunch of chatter going on around him, he's obviously not the only one that had to work late.
"Don't worry about it," I tell him, "I was delayed getting home myself, what's going on there?"
He sighs, sounding tired.
"Something came up, some red tape that we're trying to work around, but it's putting a delay on the launch of the software I was telling you about. It's a bit of a shit show to be honest, my dad has been going nuts all day."
I've seen his fathers temper before, it's not pretty.
"Oh no, what will you do?," I ask, "Will you be able to figure it out?"
"I'm not too sure, I've reached out to some contacts to see if we can fast track the legal paperwork, but at this stage of the day I'll be waiting until Monday"
"I'm sorry babe, I know this is big for you."
"Yeah, I'm not happy about it, we've worked non-stop on this, but I just have to be patient now and see what happens over the next couple of days."
"Why don't you come home?," I suggest, "I've opened a bottle of wine..."
"As tempting as that is Izzy, the guys have had a tough few weeks here, so I've ordered in some food and beers for everyone to try to keep their spirits up. I'm gonna' have to stay awhile."
Just as soon as he says that, I vaguely hear somebody call out to him in the background. "Jamie they're here."
There's quiet on the line for a minute after that, and then I hear some distorted mumbling that I don't understand before he comes back to me.
"So hey babe," Jamie says, "our food has arrived, why don't you go and enjoy that bottle of wine and relax. I'll be home late but I'll try not to wake you."
"Okay, I hope you guys have a nice night, I love you."
"Love you too honey, goodnight."
I quickly decide after that phone call that this weekend might not be the best time to talk to Jamie about the whole marraige and kids issue, not with how preoccupied he's going to be with work. I'll keep the fire in my belly and tell him next week though, after all this stuff settles down for him.
"I suppose it's just us tonight," I mumble into my glass of wine as I slump myself down onto the couch.
As the evening wears on, I watch some mindless TV for a while and scroll on my phone. By the time I've finished my third glass, it's after ten o'clock and I'm wiped.
Climbing into bed, I check Sarah's Instagram one more time. She stopped posting updates hours ago and there hasn't been any activity since. I give up trying to get a glimpse of Will and let my head it the pillow, quickly drifting off.
♾️
Hours later, a sudden loud crash from the kitchen jolts me awake. What the hell was that? Is there someone here? I bolt upright at the thought and grab for Jamie over the covers, but there's just an empty space beside me where he usually sleeps. Shit, what if there's somebody here and he's not at home?
I listen for a moment, straining to hear, but there's silence only now. Looking around the room for some form of weapon, I realise that I am completely unprepared for something like this.
Creeping out of bed, I tiptoe to the door, pressing my ear against it.
"Fuck sake!" I hear Jamies voice echo through the apartment.
Thank god. A rush of relief hits me as I step out into the hallway, wanting to see if he's alright. I also take a mental note to put a golf club or something in the bedroom for the next time I'm alone here.
Jamie turns around at the sound of my feet pattering across the floor tiles.
"Oh you're up," he says. His eyes are blurry and his words come out a little slurred, I guess a few beers with the guys turned into many.
"Yeah, but don't worry," I smile as I round the counter towards him. "I'm just glad you weren't an intru- ouch shit!"
I look down as a stinging sensation hits my feet, theres glass scattered all over the floor below me.
"What is that?," I ask him, "Why didn't you warn me?"
Moving back, I try to avoid stepping on any more of it, but I can feel that theres already little shards stuck in my foot.
Small specks of blood drop onto the tiles as I move. I grab at a barstool and pull it out so that I can sit down and remove the glass that's now buried in my skin.
Lifting my head, I notice that Jamie is still just standing there, examining the floor.
"Jamie? Are you okay?," I ask
His head snaps up and his eyes meet mine.
"You got blood on the floor," he says.
Is he kidding me?
"Yes, because you got glass on the floor in the first place Jamie. What happened?"
"What happened is that I came home to this fucking mess!," he says, pointing his finger toward the sink.
I left my empty glass in there earlier along with some breakfast bowls from Jamie and I this morning, but I figured it could all wait until tomorrow, I have nothing but time then anyway.
The breakfast bowls are still sitting in there, but my wine glass now is missing, so its safe to assume that's what's in my foot right now.
"Jamie it's just a few dishes," I say, "I was home late too, I was going to wash up in the morning, it's not a big deal."
I'm probably feeling a bit too plucky after those drinks. Maybe I should say nothing.
"So what Izzy? I have to live in a pigsty because you insist on giving all your free time to those women?"
His words spit like venom as his eyes seem to glaze over. Jamie clenches both his fists by his sides, and I know I need to calm him down before this gets out of hand, so I offer up the only thing I can think of.
"Why don't you let me clean this up," I offer, "you go to bed. It's nothing to worry about, I'll wash up too, I shouldn't have left the dishes in there, you're right."
"Oh, now you want to do it," he says, "now Queen Izzy is ready to clean up after herself!"
Jamie suddenly rounds the corner of the counter and comes straight for me. I quickly move off the barstool and make an attempt to back away from him, but he's fast, even when clearly drunk. As I try to run he reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling me back towards him.
"Jamie stop!" I cry. We both know thats pointless though, he never stops until he's ready to.
He drags me by the hair back towards the kitchen. My feet cross over the broken glass all over again, it slices into my skin as I try to move on the tips of my toes.
Pulling me to the sink, Jamie pushes my head down towards it so that I'm just inches from the bowls that sit in there. The pain in my feet only gets worse when I get to place my full weight back on the ground.
"You think this is the shit I want to come home to Izzy? After the day I've just had?" Jamies voice booms throughout the apartment. I don't answer him, I just hold my eyes to the sink as tears threaten to come. There's nothing I can say to stop this anyway, it's too late.
He pounds his fist onto the counter beside me. "Fucking answer me Izzy!," he screams.
I hesitate just a little too long, so he reaches for my hair again and yanks my head back up. My scalp feels raw from the way he has my hair twisted around his fingers. My body starts to tremble in responce.
"No, Jamie I'm sorry," I say, "I'll clean it. I didn't know, I'm so sorry."
As much as it probably shouldn't have, this has caught me off guard. Jamie has never done anything like this after he's been drinking, normally he's more loving and sweet. I'm afraid of how far he's going to take it now that I can't read him.
He leans right in to my face, his teeth clenched.
"You didn't know?," he says. "You didn't know what? That the apartment should be clean? That you should tidy up after yourself? What? What is it you didn't know Izzy?"
"Please..." I can't hold my tears back any longer, they slide down my cheeks as I reach up and try to loosen his grip on my hair before he rips it out entirely.
Yanking me closer to him, he clamps his other hand to my throat.
"You know, you might not want to be my wife, but I'll be damned if you think I don't expect you to act like one in my home."
This is it. This is why he's so angry. I can't take back what I said about not getting married, so now he's going to make me pay for it instead.
I keep my eyes trained in-front of me, trying my best to blink away any tears that come.
Jamie slowly let's go of me, but I don't dare to move, I keep my grip on the sink and make sudden movements.
"Clean it," he says. His words are so soft that its unnerving.
"Jamie..."
"CLEAN IT!," he yells, his voice changing from sweet to demonic within seconds.
Shaking, I quickly turn on the tap and reach for the dish soap on the counter, waiting for the water to run hot before pushing the sink plug down. I let no more than an inch or so of water fill up, I don't want to give him any ideas.
Jamie stands over me, watching as I scrub at the bowls. It's humiliating. I can feel the hot air of his breath hitting my ear, he's so close that I have to be careful not to bump my elbow off him as I run a sponge over the spoons. I clean everything much longer than needed, afraid that he might find a spec of food somehwhere if I don't, and then I set it all on the drainer before pulling the plug out of the sink again.
As the water circles the drain, I watch it swirl and disappear, just like any hope I have of coming out of this confrontation unharmed.
Silently, Jamie reaches across the kitchen to where the dish towel hangs on the oven door. He pulls it off, handing it to me. I'm sure that he's intending to appear kind, but any movement from him terrifies me.
He hovers near me like I'm a child as I dry the dishes. I glance up at him when I'm done, seeking permission to put them away. Standing back, he allows me the room to get to the cupboard, but as I move towards it, a shard of glass cuts deeper into the skin on the heel of my foot and I let out a wimper.
Jamie looks down at my feet, there's no emotion on his face, making it impossible to antisapate what he plans to do.
Without a word, he takes the bowls and spoons form my hands, putting them away himself.
I stay rooted to the spot, right in the middle of the kitchen. After closing the cutlery drawer, Jamie then moves to the other side of the room, leaning his back against the work top and facing me. It's as if I'm standing here on display for him.
I flinch as he breaks the silence between us.
"So I had a conversation today," he says.
I feel afraid to move. I'm unsure if I should reply.
"I was talking to Karl," he continues, "I've mentioned him before right? You know the kind of bullshit talk we get into. Cars, family... women."
I've no real idea who Karl is, but I don't want to show my confusion, so I nod along.
"I told him what was going on with us," he says.
"Wh- What's going on with us?" My body shivers under his glare, for such a hot night, it's now ice cold in here.
"I told him that you don't want to get married," Jamie says. "Or have kids. You wanna' know what he said about that?"
I know his question doesn't really warrant an answer, so I wait.
"He told me you were right. Well, kind of. What he actually said was that he and Rosemarie don't even seem to like each other anymore, and that their sex life is in the toilet. He said getting married was the worst thing they ever did and they're not even a year into it."
He then lets out this weird chuckle that leaves me feeling unsettled.
"Poor guy," he says, "can you believe it? They haven't even had kids yet. Hell, that Rosemarie really found herself a sucker there."
I furrow my brow, unsure why he assumes she did anything, or how it relates to us, but he continues his story anyway.
"She sits at home all day while he works, and now she won't even give him thirty seconds before she falls asleep so he can try to knock her up. What a bitch"
It's like I don't even know the person infront of me right now. Jamie never talks like this, not to me anyway. I hate it, he sounds just like his father.
"So anyway," he says with a slur, reminding me that he's not quite himself. "I told him that we were still having sex pretty regularly, I'm sure you don't mind me sharing that, and fuck was he jealous Izzy, you should have heard him. I was so smug about it too, honestly I couldn't help it. But then he said something that shut me right up."
I wait in fear while Jamie glances around the kitchen, it's as if he's not quite sure of where he is until he looks my way again. A part of me hopes that he's lost his train of thought, but then he speaks.
"He said that I shouldn't be trying to marry you anyway," he says. "Karl seems to think, that if we did that, but didn't have kids, that you'd get bored and start whoring around while I'm at work."
Jamies face twists with disgust. I might have been grateful to this Karl guy for trying to convince him that marraige isn't for everybody if his reasoning weren't so vile.
Moving my feet to try and avoid the discomfort, I notice how strange they feel, like there's a numbness forming. There's a wet pool beneath them as the blood continues to seep out. I really need to get this glass removed and clean myself up, but I cant take my eyes off of Jamie, he's too unpredictable. Does he really not care that I'm clearly in pain?
"I realised something after he said that," he continues, ignoring my obvious need to sit down. "I realised how hypocritical it is that you don't wanna' get married, considering how you expect all the things from me that a woman expects from a husband."
I really don't know what he means by that. In reality, I think I expect very little from Jamie, but I have to stand here and listen to his rambling anyway.
"I pay the majority of the rent, the food, bills, utilities, I take you out to nice places, get you nice things..."
He keeps me under his angry stare as he stands up straight and begins to inch himself closer to me.
"So then I began to wonder... has Izzy has found herself a sucker too?"
There's a glint in his eyes thats so cold it could cut right through me.
"Is that what it is Izzy?," he asks, "You've found your free ride?"
"Jamie, you know thats not true. You know that I wanted to pay half of everything when I moved in. You wouldn't let me!"
I'm saddened that he'd even suggest that I'd take advantage of him.
When we decided to move in together, I didn't want to stay in this apartment because it was too expensive, and we didn't need the spare room, or the gym, or the concierge, but he insisted. He said that we could split things 60-40. I said no. Of course I said no, I wanted it 50-50, but again, he insisted. And what Jamie wants, Jamie gets, good or bad. It's never been an issue for us before, so why is he using it against me now? Especially when only days ago he was suggesting that I quit work altogether?
"Jamie if the money is bothering you, you could have told me," I say, "I would have figured it out, you know I want to pull my own weight."
"What bothers me Izzy, is that you think I'm going to let you take whatever you want from me and give nothing back."
Jamie takes a step towards me, his anger seeming to be ready to spill over.
"What do you mean?" I ask, "I don't take anything from you, I don't want anything from you."
I match him pace for pace, moving back and keeping what feels like a safe distance between us.
"I won't turn into them Izzy," he says, "Rosemarie might have Karl fooled, but you can't have the life I'm giving you and not compensate me for it."
"Compensate you?"
"Yes. If you want to have the things that you expect from a husband, then I want the things that I expect from a wife."
My lip quivers, afraid to even ask my next question.
"Like what? What is it you expect from a wife?"
"A clean god damn home for starters!" His voice rings into my ears again as he slams his hand on the counter. "I want to come home to you cooking us dinner, not to find you're working late or that you're in on a Saturday when you should be here!"
I cant believe this is really a conversation that we're having. He doesnt want a wife, he wants a housekeeper.
"Jamie, this isn't some 1940's scenario where I drop to my knees at your request," I tell him, "you can't ask any of that from me."
Jamie instantly perks up upon hearing that. A sinister smirk appears on his face as if he's just had an idea.
"Say that again?," he asks.
I stare down at the floor, knowing that I went too far. I shouldn't have answered him back, it's the wine making me feel brave.
As he takes another step towards me, I try to hold my ground, but it's painfully obvious that I'm scared.
"You know what Izzy," he says, "you dropping to your knees sounds great to me. Why don't you do just that."
"What?"
My mind goes into panic mode, desperately clinging to the hope that he isn't implying what I think he is. But any uncertainty I have about it is made abundanty clear when he pointedly looks to the floor in front of him.
"N- No, don't be ridiculous Jamie." I shake my head in disbelief. He can be cruel at times, but he isn't a monster, he doesn't mean what he's saying.
"No really Izzy, I think you should do it," he insists. "I think you should get on your knees and show me how grateful you are for everything that I do for you."
I take a moment to try and process exactly what he's telling me to do, but there is absolutely no way that I'm doing it. I try to keep my voice steady as I respond, because any break will give him the weakness that he lives for.
"Jamie, don't talk to me like that. Please, lets just go to bed. I'll clean up and we can sleep this off, it's okay, we're okay. We've both had a little bit to drink, but we shouldn't let this get out of hand, please."
I stretch my hand out to him and pray that my reasoning did the trick and that he'll take it before apologising for everything in the morning.
Instead, he brushes right by my fingers, smiling manically while his eyes run a trail over my body that sends a chill down my spine. I wrap my arms around myself in the hope of some coverage. I wish I'd worn more than a pair of shorts and a flimsy top, but it's so hot out that I didn't even want to wear this much.
He get so close that our bodies are almost touching.
"I think, I'd much rather that you do what I'm asking," he says as he slowly reaches for his zipper, keeping his eyes on me as he pulls it down. The noise of the metal scraping the teeth fills the room.
"Jamie..." my voice cracks as tears spill down my cheeks. "Please, please don't do that, don't make me do that."
"Make you? I don't make you do anything Izzy."
I can smell the liquor on his breath as he brings his hand up and glides it over my throat, he holds it there, pressing, not enough to harm me, but enough to tell me that he can.
"Are you going to make this complicated for yourself?," he whispers.
I stare back into his eyes, the Jamie I met, the one who made me laugh, who was kind and sweet and loved me is there, I just need to find him.
"Please don't," I plead. "You don't want to do this".
"You're right Izzy... I want you to."
Grabbing both of my shoulders, he forces me downward. I push back against him, but the pain from the pressure it puts on my feet is overwhelming, and very quickly I find myself left kneeling in front of him.
Pouring my face into my hands, I sob and beg him to stop, but he just stands there, unmoving and expectant.
"Jamie listen to me," I cry, "this is crazy!"
I grab at his legs, willing him to see sense, but get no reaction.
"I can't! I can't do that, please stop, please!"
For a fleeting moment, I think I see his eyes soften as he stares down at me. I think that he's going to stop this, and that he's going to realise what he's doing. He'll tell me to get up and that he's sorry, and then everything will be okay.
But a fleeting moment is all it was, because as quick as they softened, his eyes cloud back over into little black pools of darkness.
"Don't make me wait Izzy," he says, the warning in his voice clear. I can't see my way out of this.
My hands tremble as I lift them toward his waist and begin to undo his belt, relying on memory more than sight because the tears just keep coming, blurring my vision. I feel Jamies body almost start to convulse, and as I look upwards to his face, I watch him dissolve into laughter.
"You were actually going to do it weren't you?," he says, "God, you're pathetic Iz."
Pulling back away from him, I'm horrified as I realise what he's done. Jamie towers over me with a crooked smile on his face. His sole intension here was humiliation, nothing more.
"Look at you. Did you honestly think I'd let you touch me right now?," he says, squatting down and gripping my face the way he always does when he's trying to hurt me. "You look like shit Iz."
He pushes my head away from him sharply before standing back up and moving past me like I'm some piece of trash on the street.
All at once my anger boils beneath the surface, and I know I should control it, I know I should walk away, but I've never ever felt so degraded in all my life. How could he do that to me?
Standing to my feet, I ignore any pain that might be there. I'm completely repulsed by him. I can't control myself as I reach for the closest thing I can find, a tumbler glass, and hurl it towards the doorway as he leaves.
"You're fucking disgusting!" I cry after him.
He stops dead still as the glass hits the doorframe and shatters beside him. As blind with rage as I am, even I can see what a bad move that was.
Jamie storms back towards me as my stomach twists into knots. There's no shouting, no chances to take it back, and absolutely nowhere to run as he rounds the corner of the counter towards me.
In one swift movement he advances on me, rearing back and punching me in the face with such force that it knocks me sideways. My head hits the door handle of a cabinet as I fall to the floor. Everything is suddenly so blurry, I can't hear him anymore. I can't hear anything.
There's only darkness.