Another shift. Another day. Another reminder that everything had changed.

It wasn’t that I was pining for James, but I missed my life, the life I’d had only days before. After filing the police report and calling out of work for three shifts straight, I finally made myself get back into a normal routine—as normal as it could be.

I did everything I was advised to do. Changed the locks on my apartment. Filed an order of protection against James. Shipped all his personal belongings to his parents’ house in Huntington. Took down all the pictures that reminded me of him.

The problem was that everything reminded me of the rat bastard. The couch we got a discount on because a cushion had a little rip in it that James fixed right when we got it home. The coffee table he built for us because I couldn’t find one in the stores that I liked. The purple walls in my bathroom James painted for me because he knew lavender was my calming color. Those were only the tip of the iceberg.

And then there were our two miniature pinschers. Nike and Thor kept looking for James. That was what broke my heart the most; I knew I wasn’t the only one that had lost someone they loved.

Opening my front door, I could tell something was off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something missing. I walked in, half asleep as the sunrise started to peek in through the windows, illuminating a scene of sheer wreckage.

I dropped to my knees in complete shock and horror. The entire apartment had been ransacked: holes in the walls, all my books yanked off the shelves and ripped apart, slashes in the couches, furniture thrown everywhere, dishes and glasses destroyed on the kitchen floor. I looked around and realized with a start that my dogs weren’t barking at me. I shot up, bolting around the small apartment.

“Nike! Thor! Come here babes,” I called. Nothing.

I opened every door. Checked under the bed. Pulled up every blanket they loved to hide under. I was hoping they were just scared and hiding, but they weren’t. My dogs were not in my apartment.

My hands were shaking as I dialed my best friend.

“Hello?” Martha answered. “Karla, are you ok?”

I was sobbing. “He broke in. It’s so bad. The dogs!”

“Hang up. Call the cops. I’m on my way.”

I dug Officer Whistler’s card out of my wallet; he had given it to me at the police station after taking my statement about the altercation. After wiping the tears off my face and away from my eyes with the bottom of my green scrub top, I dialed his number.

“Whistler,” he answered.

“It’s Karla,” I muttered, not exactly sure how I was supposed to explain this to the nicest cop I had ever met.

“Karla? Are you ok?” His words dripped with concern.

I took a deep breath and spit it out. “James broke in and destroyed my apartment, and I think he stole my dogs.”

The realization washed over me, knocking the wind out of my chest. I started hyperventilating as Officer Whistler started to speak in a very calming voice.

“Karla, sit down. Right where you are, sit. I don’t want you panicking and passing out before I get there. I’m on my way with my partner, Officer Todd. You met him the other night. Try to stay calm and do not touch anything. We’re going to have to fingerprint your place.”

I sat down right in the foyer where I stood. “Ok. I’m sitting. My door is open and my friend is on her way to be here with me.”

“Good. We will be there soon. Hang in there.” He hung up.

I sat cross-legged, falling apart all over again. I felt so stupid; I should have known James was capable of something like this. I knew his temper, but he had never gotten that out of control before the other night. How could I have fallen in love with a monster? He was a cheater. He was mean. He was vindictive. He was an asshole.

A while later, the front door slowly opened. I turned to see my two best friends in the entire world cautiously walking into the train wreck that was my apartment.

“Hey, love.” Kari sank down next to me, wrapping her arms around my body. “Everything is going to be all right.”

Martha followed suit and the three of us sat on the floor, holding on to each other. The one positive thing I had going for me was the unwavering friendship I had in those two amazing women.

“Karla?” Officer Whistler and his partner walked in.

We all got up. Martha grabbed their hands, shaking them with her manly vice grip. “Officers, thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Yes, thank you officers,” I muttered, wiping my face again. I knew my makeup was smeared all over my face and I probably looked like a five-cent hooker at that point, but I felt unusually comfortable around these two cops.

“Please, call me Sean.” Officer Whistler shot me a sympathetic smile. “I am going to call this in and get a forensics team out. Do we have permission to search your place for evidence?”

“Of course.” I was fighting back more tears as I thought about a ton of people walking in to see my life in shambles, but if it was going to help put James away then it was all worth it. Officer Whistler stepped out into the hall to radio in while Officer Todd went into my bedroom to check out the extent of the damage.

“You’re still going to press charges, right?” Kari asked as she grabbed my hand. The small gesture of support was hugely comforting.

“You bet your sweet ass she is,” Martha barked as she walked around checking out everything that was broken and in disarray as I nodded in agreement.

Sean joined us again. “Karla, do you have a place you could stay for a few days? Just while the dust settles. I hate to think what would have happened if you had been home when he showed up.”

Martha put her arm around my shoulders. “She can stay with me for a while and then with Kari for a bit if need be, right, Kari?”

Kari’s face shifted into a smile. “For sure!”

‘Thanks guys.” Tears poured down my face again, and my eyes stung from the endless days of crying fits.

* * *

After I felt completely violated by my ex and then again by the swarm of police that had to gather evidence from my home, the girls took me back to Martha’s place.

“I just can’t wrap my head around all of this,” Martha states while pouring us all generous amounts of wine.

“Tell me about it.” I chugged down a few large gulps of the smooth pinot noir.

Kari pulled a throw pillow onto her lap while checking a few text messages from her boss.

“I really appreciate you guys skipping work today to help me.” And damn the tears started up again. “Why am I such an emotional wreck?”

Martha took her seat on the other side of me. “If you weren’t a wreck, I would be worried about you.”

Kari looked up from her phone. “Don’t mention it, Karla. Honestly, we all work our asses off. We can take a personal day from time to time.”

My gaze snapped to Kari. “Ok, who are you, and what have you done with Kari?” I teased.

“What?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m not a workaholic!” she shrilled, throwing the pillow at me.

Martha started laughing. “Honey, you’re in fucking denial!”

“Whatever. I’m here—isn’t that all that matters?”

“Yes.” I put my head on her shoulder. “That is all the matters.”

“Oh!” Martha jumped up as a dog food commercial came on. “I almost forgot.” She got up and sifted through papers on her dining room table until she found a pamphlet. “Kari and I thought this might be a good way for you to get out of the house and meet new people.” She handed me a dog rescue flyer with the cutest puppies on the front of it.

“You want me to meet new people? The love of my life just stabbed me in the back. I don’t know about this.” I flipped it open to read the middle. It seemed like a wonderful organization, but with my job being as crazy as it was, where would I find the time?

Kari sat up a bit. “It’s not to meet a guy or anything. We’re just worried that you will become a hermit without James encouraging you to get out of the house from time to time. We just know how you are.”

Martha added, “Just think about it, ok?” as she took her seat next to me again. They made me promise I would consider it, and I would; helping people was my job, so why not help dogs, too?

We started to watch stupid daytime television. It was the perfect way to spend our afternoon—watching Jerry Springer, drinking wine, and realizing that at least I was better off than the poor schmuck that was just told his fiancée had actually been born a dude.