After getting back from Tulum, I didn’t know where else to go, so I spent the week at Cynthia’s. Of course, I had to tell her something. I couldn’t just invite myself over without so much as an explanation, but I don’t tell her anything important. All I say is that we had a fight and I need some time away from my place. I don’t think she fully believes me, but it’s as good of an explanation as she going to get. I don’t want to involve her. I’ve seen something that I had no business witnessing, and I have no idea what the fallout will be. What happens if you are a witness to a murder? Will the murderer come after you?

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Cynthia asks me coming home from work one day. I haven’t been in the shop for five days. I took some of the days off earlier for the trip, but now I’m just avoiding it. At first, I thought that I needed time to get together a plan. But now, I’m not so sure. The more days that pass, the less of a plan I’m able to come up with.

“Yeah, fine,” I nod, eating a bowl of cherries. “Why, did something happen at the shop?”

“No. Something happened to you. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

I shrug, trying to pretend that everything’s fine.

“You never skip work willingly. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on. Logan and I just had a very big fight, and I don’t want to see him, in case he comes by.”

“Did he hurt you?” she asks with a concerned look on her face.

I shrug. Shake my head. No. Not yet, I think to myself. She waits for me to say the words.

“No,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “What?”

She doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go.

Later that night, while we watch the People’s Couch on Bravo, I get a call. I look at my phone. I let it go to voice mail.

“Who’s that?” Cynthia asks.

“Cal,” I whisper. My hands grown numb. Not this again. What the hell is going on?

I freeze, unable to move. She takes the phone from me and plays the voice message on speakerphone.

“Hey Avery. What’s up? I was just thinking about you? You know that I love you, right? I’m sorry about everything. But we can’t keep doing this to each other. I know that you love me too, no matter how much you try to deny it. I’ve made some mistakes. But you’re not perfect either….Oh, who am I kidding. You are perfect. I miss you. I don’t care about the restraining order. I need to see you again. And you better be there. You better act nice. Otherwise…I don’t know, Avery. You just can’t keep pushing me away like this. I want you. I need you back, honey. You have to take me back, honey.”

I get up and walk toward the kitchen. Tears are building up within me.

“Are you okay?” Cynthia asks. Suddenly, they all flow out of me like a torrent. A rainstorm. I start sobbing. I can’t stop. I can’t breathe. I can’t utter a word.

“Oh my God! Avery!” Cynthia runs over and puts her arms around me.

“I’m so, so scared,” I manage to say through the sobs.

“You have to go back to the police.”

I nod. I try to take a breath, to calm myself down, but I can’t. Waves of pent up emotions continue to flow through me. After a few moments, I stop fighting them. Instead, I just let them go. I collapse onto the floor, wrap my hands around my knees and bury my head in my chest. I feel Cynthia’s presence, but I don’t really see her. I feel her rubbing my back and head, but she seems so far away that she might as well be on the other side of the country.

“I just don’t know what to do,” I finally say after the tears slow down a bit.

“You have to go to the police.”

“But they don’t do anything. They just give him citations and that’s it. Nothing’s different.”

I take one deep breath after another, but despite how much air I inhale, I continue to suffocate.

“Maybe you should get a gun,” Cynthia says quietly. I look up at her. She wipes my cheeks with her sleeves and fixes my eye makeup. I must look like a fright.

“What?”

“Maybe you should get a gun for protection. In case, he tries something.”

“A gun? I can’t get a gun. I don’t know how to use a gun.”

“You could learn. It might be helpful. I mean, what if, God forbid, Cal had a gun?”

My whole body gets covered in goosebumps at the thought of that. I take more breaths, but I start to choke.

“You’re hyperventilating, Avery. Here, bury your head in your knees. Don’t breathe so fast. Breathe in. And then out. In and out,” Cynthia says calmly. I try to follow her instructions. At first, it is futile. But after a few breaths, it gets better.

It takes me close to half an hour to get myself under control. Eventually, my tears dry up. My breathing becomes more even, and I’m able to think a little more clearly. Cynthia helps me off the floor and makes me a cup of green tea. The steam coming from the cup puts me a little bit more at ease, but decisions still have to be made.

“Maybe, I should get a gun,” I say looking directly at Cynthia. “No, I will.”

She nods. Both of us know that getting a gun will be crossing some sort of line. Life is not like the movies where people shoot each other with little consequences. Owning a gun is a responsibility, and one that I should only take on if I’m really ready. I’m not ready, not today, but perhaps I will be in the coming days. The one thing I know for sure is that I can’t just sit around and wait for Cal or Logan to come after me.