I don't know how long I lay on the kitchen floor. I don't know if Jamie picked me up, or if he dragged me to the bathroom. I don't know how long it took him to get the glass shards from the wine glass out of my feet and bandage them up. I don't know what he used to clean the blood from my temple and hairline where it had hit the door knob.
I don't know if he noticed the blood on my top, but he put me to bed with it on anyway. I don't know if it concerned him that I didn't wake up at any point, but I guess not, because he climbed into the bed beside me and fell asleep anyway.
I don't know anything, other than the fact that I am petrified of this man.
♾️
Jamie snores after he's been drinking. It's a loud obnoxious noise that I'm sure even the neighbours can hear. I can never sleep through it. Although I suppose it could have been that or the pounding in my brain that woke me, I'm not sure.
I grip my head as I lay on my pillow, it's so loud in there. It's as if I can hear my own blood pumping or something. I sit myself upright to see if it helps, but instead it just makes me feel dizzy. I push past it and get up anyway, unable to stand the thought of being in bed with him.
My bladder feels so full it could burst, so I rush myself into the bathroom first. It's only on my way back to the bedroom afterward that I catch a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror. I'm stopped in my tracks, unable to even recognise myself.
Theres a big, red, angry looking bruise coming up on my right cheek, just under my eye, with hints of purple already pushing through. I touch it with the tip of my finger before wincing away from the sting. It's almost stiff from the swelling. I hope he didn't break my cheekbone, I don't know what I'd say to a doctor about it if he did.
The cut on my left temple doesn't look as bad in comparison, it's small. Not even an inch long, but I imagine a cut isn't any easier to hide than a bruise.
I stand at the vanity for a while and take myself in. I look so different to the person I was when I first moved in here. I was vibrant, fun. I'd never have let what happened last night happen. I'd have punched him right where he made me sink to last night. Staring at myself right now, I wonder where all of that spark went.
The sight infront of me becomes a little too much, I need to get out of here. I need to get out of this apartment and as far away from Jamie as I can.
I know I have some work out clothes in the spare bedroom. Maybe if I sneak in I can put them on and go without waking him. He's passed out anyway, so I don't really need to debate it, it might be the only chance I get.
Creeping my way out of our bedroom, I grab some underwear and my make up bag as I go before stealing one last quick look back at Jamie. He looks just like him when he's asleep... the old Jamie I mean, the one I met. The more I think about that now though, the more I wonder if there ever really was a Jamie like the one I met. Or if i just made him up in my head.
Dashing to the spare room, I change as quick as I can. Black leggings, a white tshirt and a black zip up hoodie. Comfortable, I need comfortable.
I forgot to take my hairbrush from the bedroom, but I have one in the car so I'm not going back now. I pull my hair high up onto my head, raking it with my fingers and securing it into some sort of bun, ignoring the burning feeling on my scalp from where Jamie pulled at it.
There's a gym bag under the bed that I throw my stuff into. I'll have to stop and get some essentials wherever I go, but I'm going.
Wait. Where am I going?
Pausing for a second, I weigh up my options. I don't want anyone I know to see me like this. I know I shouldn't care but I do, it feels weak. I can't stand the idea of anyone knowing that I let this happen to me, so a hotel it is. Not the same place as before, and I'll use my savings account this time to pay for it so that Jamie can't find me. This won't be like it was then, I won't allow him to talk me around.
I have a bit of money saved up, I can stay in the hotel for a few days while I try and secure a room to rent. Something closer to work. Or maybe to Sarah, I might find a reasonable one bed studio near her. I'll figure that out later though, right now I've got to go.
I leave my shoes by the door and sneak into the living room, taking a picture of my grandfather, mom, Sarah and I off of the shelf to bring with me. Jamie hid it once before after we argued, he said he didn't but I searched high and low for it for days. I walked into the living room one morning and there it was. The silver frame was sticking out slightly from under the armchair, at the perfect angle for the sun to catch it through the window and create a glare so I'd see it. I'd already checked under that chair, Jamie even saw me do it. I put it back on the shelf and it was never mentioned again. He'd never admit he had taken it anyway.
Quietly, I make my way to the kitchen, but stop as soon as I feel my feet touch the tiles. It's spotless in here. I can actually smell the bleach. The glass is gone, the blood on the floor has been wiped clean, he even remembered to wipe the door knob of the cabinet. As far as this kitchen is concerned, nothing happened here.
I grab my laptop off the breakfast bar and go to take a bottle of water from the fridge, but as I do, it slips out of my hand and falls to the floor, hitting a shelf in the fridge and making a loud clang on the way down. Shit. Did I even really need that water?
Picking it up, I listen out for any movement and prepare to make a run for it, but there's no need. Jamies snores are still filling the apartment.
After stuffing the last few bits I want to take into the gym bag, I grab my keys and slip my shoes on. That's it, time to go.
As I reach for the door handle, scared to death that Jamie will wake up and catch me, someone on the other side decides that it's time for a wake up call.
What the hell?
The pounding on the door is so aggressive that the it shakes from the sheer strenth behind their fist.
"James? James! You better open up this god damn door right now!"
That voice, it belongs to Jamies dad. What in the world is he doing here at this time?
He continues pounding and shouting, but Jamie continues sleeping. The neighbours are really going to be going crazy now.
If I open the door he's going to see my face. I guess that doesn't matter now though. I know that don't want anyone I know to see me, but maybe if Tom gets a glimpse of what his son can do, he might not be so quick to say I'm the one that's not good enough for him, which is exactly what he told me the last time we spoke.
The banging continues until Tom hears me finally unlock the door. He doesn't wait a single second before he barges in and slams it shut behind him.
"Hi Tom," I say, but he ignores me of course, choosing instead to storm into the living room like he owns the place. He comes back out to meet me when he finds it empty.
"Where is that idiot?," he asks. It's only then that he gets a look at my face and finally shuts up. It's not all that hard for him to add up. There I am, sneaking out with my bag packed and his sons signature on my face.
He reaches out and gently takes ahold my chin, using it to turn my head side to side, ensuring he gets a good look.
"Shit," he whispers as he drops his hand. "Wait there."
He moves towards the only door that's still closed. The snoring has now stopped, so I know that means Jamie is awake, putting my plan to run at risk. I aware that I shouldn't wait, but I hover for a moment, curious to know what it is that had Jamie's dad hammering down our door so early.
Tom doesn't knock, he's not one to be left waiting. He moves through the doorway of our bedroom like he could take it with him if it tried to stop him.
He's tall, just like Jamie, well built, muscular even. He's a handsome man, but he knows that too, and certainly loves to use his charm on the ladies. Jamie hates it. It's the only time I've ever heard him express a dislike for something his father does. Jamie adores his mom, so he dispises the fact that his father isn't loyal to her.
"He chases anything in a skirt," he once told me. And I knew it too. Tom had once tried to put his hand up my dress at a family barbecue with one of Jamie's sisters standing only a few feet away. I never told Jamie, but I left his dad under no illusion that I would if he ever tried it again. He's treated me like something that he needs to crush ever since.
Tom is nearly always in a shirt and fitted slacks. The sleeves of his shirt usually rolled up his forearms, and his skin always tan. He looks a lot like the mobsters you see in the movies, so you could say his over all look is intimidating, but I think that's intensional, which to me makes it less so. I still wouldn't want to be Jamie right now though, I haven't seen his father this angry before. He doesn't care that I'm here right now either, because I can hear every single word he says.
"Whores James!? Fucking Whores? At my business! Are you an imbecile?"
Tom wastes no time tearing into Jamie, and to say that my curiosity is peaked right now would be an understatement.
"Keep it down Dad, Jesus!"
I'm sure that's for my sake, considering I'm the only other person here.
"Are you kidding James!? That girl answered the door looking like she went rounds with a kick boxer, and you're worried about her hearing about the hooker you fucked in your god damn office!"
Bile rises up the back of my throat. That can't be true can it?
"I was trying to help the guys wind down Dad, it's not a big deal, our head is still in the game, I'm going to get the sign off we need this weekend."
"There was coke all over my fucking desk James! Not a big deal? If I find out any of those women were in there I'll fire you, I swear to god I'll fire you! My kid or not! "
Coke? As in cocaine? Jamie doesn't do drugs, this can't be right.
There's a long bout of silence between them before Jamie speaks up again, and I have to strain to hear him this time.
"Is that girl okay?," he asks.
"She's fine," Tom says with a sigh, "the paramedics brought her to the hospital, she'll be back out working some other place tonight I'm sure... James if there's some sort of case about this, or if that bitch goes to the press it's over for you, you know that right?"
Oh god, what the hell did Jamie do?
"Dad, she's a call girl, she's not going to the press, just give her some money."
"Oh give her some money? Sure! It's that simple right? Have you any idea how much those girls earn these days? Do you have any idea how much I'll have to give her to shut her up? Upwards of ten thousand dollars James!"
Toms voice continues to rise until it sounds like he's boarderline hysterical. Whatever Jamie did, it's bad.
"Okay! I get it," Jamie snaps. "I'm sorry."
"Oh you do? You get it, Mr. Big Shot. Let's cut that money from your salary and see how much you get it. Fucking idiot! This isn't New York James, you can't get away with this shit here. I want a clean fucking business, is that so hard? I want to know, that my jag off son isn't helping my people disrespect me in my own god-damn building! I want to be able to trust you not to bring in fucking cocaine and prostitutes when my back is turned, and I want to retire without you fucking it up within one fucking year James!"
Sounds like Tom could really use a thesaurus.
"I'm sorry Dad. I do, I understand. It won't happen again."
There's another stretch of quiet between the two of them, and I've no idea whats happening anymore. Maybe now is the time for me to leave…
"What the hell are you doing to that girl of yours James?"
Or maybe I'll stick around and listen to whatever excuse Jamie comes up with for this.
There's no reply from Jamie, he doesnt have an answer. At least he has the decency not to try and pin the blame on me now.
Tom doesn't seem prepared to accept that though.
"You think the investors want to see that at our Christmas parties?" He asks. "Her face is a mess. You can be sure they'll hear about what happened at the office last night too. You're making this impossible James. I told you to marry that girl, move to the suburbs, have some kids, that's what I said. That's what they wanna' see. James, if you want to take over the company, that's what needs to happen. If she's not the one then you better find somebody else quick and get it done, because this is going on far too long. Am I clear?"
"Yes Dad," Jamie replies, "you're clear. You're clear just about every time you remind me."
So marriage wasn't even Jamies own idea and yet I still ended up like this? What makes Tom think that he can just dictate our future anyhow?
"Good," Tom says, completely missing his sons sarcasm. "I'll fix this mess with the office, but you need to fix that one."
I can take an educated guess at what he means by that, but its not happening. There's no fixing this.
Just as I'm finally about to take my chance to leave, Tom steps out of the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.
"Hey sweetheart," his says with a smile so insincere that it's sickening.
As he approaches me, he reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet. He pulls out a few hundred dollar bills and attempts to hand them to me.
"Here, get yourself something to cover that up," he says, "something good okay?"
Staring down at the money in his hand, I can see that it's enough to pay my hotel room for a couple of days, but honestly, I'd rather Tom choked on it.
He frowns at me when I don't take it, I'll always be a disappointment to him.
"Listen Izzy," he says as he places his hand on my shoulder. "He needs you, let's keep this between us, this is a family issue right?"
The word family sticks with me. Tom has always treated me as an outsider. A nuisance that got her claws into his boy. He can't possibly think that I've forgotten? And now he wants to make me feel like I'm a part of the fold. One of his allies. Family. He cements that fact by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. God it must have killed him to do that.
"He's sorry, it won't happen again."
I glance at the bedroom door. Jamie has kept himself out of my view, and there's no sign of him emerging either, the coward.
I stand taller, pulling my bag over my shoulder and looking back at Tom.
"No," I say defiantly, "it won't."
I leave him there, holding his money as I go. If I never see that man again, it will be way too soon.
♾️
The trip down in the elevator to the car park is nerve wrecking. What if Jamie is pissed that I spoke to his father like that? What if he takes the stairs and comes after me? Will the lift be quicker than he is?
As the elevator comes to a stop, I feel a strange sense of calm surge through me, I know I'm doing the right thing. The doors slide open, and I decide to take my chances and run to my car, but thankfully there's no Jamie in sight.
The hotel I've decided to stay at is only fifteen minutes away. I've chosen it purposely. It's the closest to the apartment, it's not at all cheap, and there's no room service. For all of those reasons, Jamie won't think for a second that I went there.
My mind races the whole journey there. What was Tom talking about? Call girls? Drugs? Do I actually know Jamie at all? What on earth was he doing?
After pulling into the parking lot of the hotel, I grab my bag from the back. As I do, I spot the book that Will gave me sticking out from under the passenger seat, I must have forgotten to take it into the apartment and hide it, although it was probably safer here anyway. I decide to take with me. I'm going to have some time on my hands here, so I might aswell read it.
The hotel reception is huge. It has beautiful veined marble floors with a wide oak reception desk. There's large stone vases of hydrangeas dotted throughout, making me feel tiny. A gigantic 'Welcome to The Marrion' sign lights up the back of the reception desk. Thankfully this early in the day, the place is also empty.
I do wish I'd grabbed some sunglasses from the apartment to hide some of this bruising though, lord knows what they're going to think, but it's too late to worry about it now.
I approach the front desk and ask for a single room.
"That's no problem m'am," the guy behind the counter chirps, "but check in won't be until twelve unfortunately."
He's young, not even twenty yet I'd say. As he talks to me, he tries to keep his service voice in place and pretend that he can't see what I look like right now, but I spot his eyes slip to get a glimpse. He can't help it.
It's only just gone seven thirty. I completely forgot about check in times, but certainly I don't want to wait four and a half hours in my car right now.
Maybe I could try cover up a little and go get some essentials like I'd planned, or possibly try another hotel. Although I imagine all hotels have similar check in policies, and most stores won't open until nine.
"Is there an early check in fee or something that I can pay?" I ask, "Or I could even pay a charge for last night?"
The desperation in my voice is clear, but it seems to change nothing.
"I'm afraid not m'am," he says, "but I can book you the room from twelve if you'd like? Breakfast is currently being served in the restaurant, maybe you'd like to pass some time in there."
"Stephen!" A stern voice from behind the counter calls. "Why don't you double check on the breakfast crew please, I'll look after this customer."
"Sure but sh-"
"Thank you Stephen," she insists, pushing her way in to take over. She looks like an air hostess or something. There's not a single shiney chocolate brown hair out of place. Her flawless olive skin looks like shes never missed a single day of her skincare routine, and her full red lips seem to permamntly hold a smile in place. In any other situation, I'd ask her what secret is.
Stephen nods his head and leaves us.
"Now Miss, I overheard that you're looking for a room with early check in? Let's just organise that for you shall we?"
The lady looks to her computer screen and begins tapping away.
"Yes please," I say, "but um, he mentioned that I couldn't get an early check in?"
"No no, that's his mistake, don't you worry, I'll have you in a room in no time."
Her gaze drops to my cheek, but unlike her colleague, she doesn't try to pretend that she doesn't see it.
"How many nights will you be staying with us Miss?," she asks.
"Uh, three? Actually no, four please. But if I need to stay any longer, will you need much notice?"
"Not at all, just ask for me when you know what you need, I'll sort it out for you. My name is Jennifer by the way."
Jennifer points her perfectly manicured finger nail at her name tag, making sure I don't miss it.
"Don't worry if it's last minute," she says, "I'll make sure there's a room available for you."
"Wow, that's… that's great, thank you so much."
I feel a sudden onset of emotions take me over, why is this total stranger being so kind to me?
"Now," she says, clearing her throat, "just some details for you to know; breakfast starts seven, lunch from eleven and dinner from four, they're all served down here in the restaurant just behind you. We don't do room service." She lowers her voice a little and leans across the counter. "However, if you decide you'd rather not eat with our other diners, I've placed a note on your room file to say that if you request a meal from the daily menu to be delivered, it will be left outside your room at the time requested."
Her voice returns to normal again as she continues what seems to be the standard spiel.
"Check out on your last day is ten a.m, but let me know if you need more time on the day, that is if you decide not to stay longer."
I nod my head along as she gives me all of the details, trying to retain it. I'm unsure if shes accomadating me espically or if she's just really good at her job.
"Any take out food of your own is of course permitted," she continues, "I also have details of all the local attractions, functions, salons, women's crisis centres and anything else you'd like to do while you stay with us."
There's no misunderstanding the tidbit of information that she slipped in this time. She's trying to help me.
Dropping her voice low once again, she ensures that only I can hear her.
"I can also leave a note on file that you're not accepting visitors so you won't be bothered, or I'm happy to charge the room under a different name perhaps if you'd like that?"
I'm a little slow to respond, I never thought about any of this. This woman seems to know everything I need better than I do.
I stand at the reception desk in a daze, wondering what's best when Jennifer reaches across the counter and touches my hand, locking her eyes to mine.
"Don't worry Miss," she soothes, "my mom had to stay in a lot of hotels, I know there's much to consider."
She gives me a sympathetic look and squeezes my hand as my eyes well up. This woman is exactly who I needed to meet this morning.
I quickly wipe away the tears before anyone else comes along.
"Thank you," I muster, but I've never meant those words so much.
"Can you add the note for no visitors please? And also put the name on the booking under Janine Anderson?"
That's my mothers maiden name, Jamie won't check that, I'm not even sure he knows it.
We go through anything else that I might need to know, then Jennifer prepares my room key and slides the details and invoice across the desk for me to look over and sign. Something isn't right though. The room price is roughly half of what it should be. I study it confused, and then I spot it. 'Staff member family discount rate - 45%' is printed just below the actual total. I can't believe it.
"Oh gosh, no, you really don't have to do that," I insist, "honestly I can pay, please, I'll cover the other half."
"That's the final price Miss," she says, shaking her head as if to tell me that there's no point in trying to argue.
"I- I really can't thank you enough, you're so kind."
The overwhelm of the situation finally gets to me, and some tears start to trickle down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," I say as my wipe at my face, "I'm so embarrassed."
"No Miss, the person who forced you to come here should be embarrassed. And if you don't mind me saying so, I hope they don't ever get the chance to do it again."
More tears escape as I nod my head and continue to thank her and hold back tears. I then take my room key and quickly head in the direction of the second floor to find my room.
Once I'm inside, I double check that I've locked the door and climb straight into bed. I'm exhausted and frazzled and I need to try get some sleep before the reality of all of this sets in and I have to make a plan.