KACE. Trying to figure a way to get out of a relationship and not feel like a complete failure is difficult. Most people would never understand why I had stayed in the situation with Josh as long as I have. As much as I hate the way he’s treated me, I can’t imagine giving up on us or giving up on our relationship.

I don’t think I know how to be alone.

When I think of it, my head gets all jumbled up and I get scared. Sometimes when I consider leaving him I begin to shake. As soon as I start shaking, I change my mind. I often wish someone would simply decide for me.

Each time he has beaten me, I’ve deserved it. I remember the time when I was eighteen, right after high school. Josh was twenty-one. He had to work overtime on that day, and he came home exhausted from a long day at work. He asked me about dinner, and I back talked him. He just lost his temper. He never would have hit me if I hadn’t talked back. It was a really long day for him.

Each time he hit me, he later reminded me it never would have happened if I hadn’t deserved it. He always told me he wished he didn’t have to do it. He explained if I would just learn my lesson and learn to respect him, he wouldn’t have to hit me. Sometimes I wish I would learn my lesson - and other times I wish I was with someone else - someone who didn’t have to hit me.

Josh and I met when I was sixteen. I’ve never been with anyone else. I doubt, from what he’s said, anyone else would ever want me. I have no idea what it would be like to touch another man or even talk to one for that matter. Josh doesn’t let me talk to other men, and he monitors my text messages and phone calls. He doesn’t allow me to have Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, or Twitter. He takes my cell phone and goes through all of the files in it whenever he wants to, checking for pictures. He said it teaches me to be honest and loyal. I suppose he’s right, but it still bothers me.

When I am at work, I think about what it would be like to have a man treat me like the men in the books I read. I doubt those men really actually exist. If they did, I’d love to have a man like that. One who cherished me and told me I was beautiful. Maybe he would hold my hand and take me to a movie. It would be nice to feel wanted. Josh had not had sex with me for several years and I felt ugly because of it. A woman needs to feel wanted. Even if she doesn’t feel loved, she needs to feel as if someone wants or desires her.

Because Josh didn’t make me feel loved at all, and had not for years, I often daydreamed about other men. I would never cheat on Josh, and even though he wasn’t nice to me, all I wanted was for him to simply want me. I consistently wished he desired something I had to offer him. His desire, however, never comes. I don’t ever daydream about a book boyfriend saving me. I’m not like those girls in the books.

I don’t need to be saved.

I choose to be in my relationship with Josh because I want it to eventually work, and I don’t want to give up on us. I don’t want to be a failure. I only want to be loved. I’m a strong woman, and my persistence stands as proof of my strength. I simply need to be strong enough to make it last until he loves me.

For the last few years I have been thinking about my book boyfriends more frequently. I often daydream about them and what it would be like to actually be with them – to have what it is that’s depicted in the books. To have the hardship, the recovery, and the relationship that I often read about. It really started when Josh held his knife to my throat and told me I was a dumb bitch. We had been arguing more than normal because he quit making love to me. The first time I asked why, he slapped me and said it was because he wasn’t attracted to me any longer. He said I was ugly inside and out. He never slapped me once whenever he chose to slap me. He slapped me until he was tired of slapping me, or until I learned my lesson.

The second time I asked about wanting him to make love to me, he choked me and held me against the wall by my throat. I blacked out and later woke up on the floor.

The third time I asked, he held his knife to my throat and told me to never ask again. Josh has a temper, and I don’t want to learn any kind of lesson that has to do with a knife. I just want him to love me the way I love him.

I try, and I try, and I try, but I can’t seem to ever make the right decisions with Josh. I have continuously made bad decisions which eventually make him mad. I wish just once he would be happy with me, and maybe tell me he liked what I cooked him for dinner. I often wish he would just tell me he liked how I looked or notice when I got my hair cut or colored. The people I work with notice, but Josh never does.

I try so hard.

He used to tell me those things, but not anymore.

Not since he held his knife to my throat.

I have been excited all week for this day to get here. Josh told me if I didn’t do anything stupid all week, he would rent a movie on Friday and we would try to watch it together. Maybe it will be the night things turn around for the better. If we could get along for just one night, I would hold on to those memories for ever.

As I sat in the truck with my Kindle, Josh got out and walked toward the Red Box to get the movies. I sat quietly and read quickly as Josh looked through the selection of the available movies. Reading had become my form of escaping. It allowed me freedom from everything by living through the stories I read. It was easy for me to dream of being the female character in the books I read. A good book could make me laugh, cry, or get so aroused that I had to touch myself. Without reading, I would go completely insane.

My Kindle had become my savior.

“They ain’t got Black Hawk Down or Pulp Fiction,” he said over his shoulder as he stood in front of the Red Box, staring at the screen.

We haven’t watched too many movies over the ten years we’ve been together, but we had seen those two movies no less than a dozen times a piece. I like doing anything with Josh, but sometimes I wish he would think about me and my desires. I’d like to watch The Notebook or something similar. Maybe Safehaven.

“Well, fuck. They ain’t got nothin’ to watch at this shit-hole. Fuckin’ pisses me off. Maybe we should just hit the liquor store and get a thirty pack and hang out at the house,” he said as he got into the truck.

I slipped the Kindle into my purse. My heart sank as he started the truck. Josh drank a lot. When he drank, it made me nervous. When he was drunk, he was always mean. He felt he deserved to drink; because I either drove him crazy or he had a tough day at work. I tried to hide from him when he drank, but hiding tonight would be impossible to do.

“Why you got that shitty look on your face?” he muttered as he shoved his lip full of tobacco.

I shook my head slowly.

“What? You got something to say? I really ain’t in the mood for your mouth, you little bitch,” he barked as he wiped his hand on his jeans.

I wanted to tell him to get a different movie. I felt like crying. Why couldn’t we have a night together and not fight? Why did he have to drink so much? Why did he have to chew tobacco? It made his breath stink and his teeth brown. To have him be kind to me for one night, I’d let him beat me for a week.

A week of having my face slapped and called names.

In exchange for one night of calling me beautiful and kissing me.

“I asked you a fucking question,” his jaw tightened as he shut off the truck.

Oh no. Not here. Please not here. Please, Josh.

“You see what I mean? You fuckin’ ask for it. It’s like you want it. I’ll never understand what drives you to fight with me, woman,” he yelled.

My muscles tensed as he opened the truck door and stepped out and into the parking lot. He slowly walked around in front of the truck and around to my door. After glaring in the window at me, he opened it.

“Gimme your fuckin’ purse,” he snarled as he held his hand out toward me.

“Gimme that sum bitch or I’ll slap your mouthy little ass right here in the parking lot,” he growled through his clenched teeth as he spit tobacco juice into the parking lot by his feet.

I handed him my purse.

He opened my purse and looked inside. He reached into it, shuffled through the contents, and pulled out my Kindle.

“This little motherfucker’s become a problem. I know you talk to people on it. I know you do. Talk to people and read that fuckin’ filth,” he tossed it onto the asphalt beside his feet.

“Josh, no. Please,” I begged.

“What, afraid you ain’t gonna be able to reach your fuckin’ boyfriend? You little whore,” he snapped as he raised his boot over the Kindle.

I covered my eyes as he held his boot over the Kindle. I couldn’t stand to watch whatever he was going to do.

“Josh, no. I don’t have a boyfriend. And I don’t talk to people with it. It’s a Kindle. I just use it to read. It’s my only way to escape,” I sobbed as I moved my hands from my eyes.

“Escape? What the fuck you gotta escape from? See? You always dig a hole,” he held his boot over the Kindle, raised his eyebrows, and spit again.

“It’s that mouth Kace. It’s always getting’ you in trouble. See? Now I gotta do this, and it’s your fault. You did it, not me,” he said as he stomped the screen of the Kindle with his boot.

As he twisted his heel into the shattered screen he shook his head.

“I was gonna scare ya and give it back. But hell no, you had to pop off and get lippy. Hell, I’d have liked to had a good night and a fuckin’ movie together. You just don’t seem to give a fuck about my feelings, Kace,” he said as he bent down to pick up the smashed Kindle.

I looked down and wiped the tears from my face.

“Everything alright?” an unfamiliar voice asked from my right side.

I wiped my face and looked up through the opened truck door.

Ohmygod.

And there he stood.

In faded jeans, black boots, dark hair, sunglasses, and a black hoodie he stood outside the truck door. He had his hands in his hoodie pockets and the hood half over his head. He quickly alternated glances between Josh and I. Slowly he pulled his hand from his pockets and removed his sunglasses. As he turned my direction his steel grey eyes met mine and he paused. I wanted him to help me. Save me from Josh and take me away.

But.

I said nothing. I only stared.

His face was covered in a few days growth of beard. He was absolutely gorgeous. His jaw was tight and his facial features distinct. And. Those. Eyes.

“Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you, slick,” Josh said.

Slowly and methodically, the stranger turned from facing me to face Josh.

“Well, I was addressing both of you, asshole. But I suppose now I’m speaking to her. Are you alright?” his tone changed from stern to pleasant and soft as he turned from Josh to face me again.

He studied my face. Although his mouth didn’t form one, his eyes smiled. The temperature in the truck rose a hundred degrees. I melted into my seat. He was absolutely gorgeous, just like I imagined my book boyfriends.

Take me with you, please. Save me.

I nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Kace,” Josh said flatly.

Quickly, he turned and looked at Josh. As he stood and stared, waiting for Josh to speak, Josh looked down at the ground and remained quiet. The stranger slowly turned back toward me.

I nodded.

The stranger turned to Josh, who was holding the smashed Kindle in his hand.

“Ain’t your business, slick,” Josh said as he slowly looked up from the ground.

“Well, as I was getting off my bike, I heard the word whore. I looked up and watched you stomping on that,” the stranger said as he pointed to my smashed Kindle.

“I don’t let men abuse women in my presence. So, it is kind of my business. And my name isn’t slick, asshole,” the stranger said angrily.

“We just had a disagreement. Ain’t nobody getting’ abused here,” Josh said softly as he looked down at the surface of the parking lot.

“Well, I suppose as long as you’re done being an asshole, and she’s okay,” the stranger paused and looked into the truck.

“It’s no longer my business,” the stranger said as he walked around Josh slowly. His stride was unique. He had a certain way of walking that made him very intriguing.

His steel grey eyes never left Josh.

“Well, she was bein’ disrespectful. We got in a pissin’ match. Like I said, ain’t nothin’ to do with you,” Josh said to the stranger as he slowly walked around the truck.

As Josh opened the door to the truck, the stranger leaned onto the edge of the Red Box and focused on me. As he waited for us to back up, he put his sunglasses back on. His right hand had tattooed knuckles.

Squeeeeee!

Josh tossed the crushed Kindle at me as he got in the truck.

“What the fuck you lookin’ at? And why the fuck is he starin’ at you?” Josh asked as he started the truck.

As I admired the stranger, I was speechless. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Fuckin’asshole. I shoulda punched his ass,” Josh snarled as he began to back the truck out of the parking spot.

I would have loved to see you try that.

As he put the truck in gear and started pulling forward, I looked out the window at the stranger and silently mouthed the words…

Help me.