Nina

Today, I’m just Nina, an ordinary girl, waking up in the morning and heading to work. But first I’m going to be tired ordinary Nina, because let’s face it, mornings suck. If I don’t get some coffee stat, I’ll be no good to the grouchy customers coming into Java Talk, looking for me to save their day. One. Cup. At. A. Time.

Grabbing my shoes, I tiptoe down the hall to the kitchen, careful to not wake up Niki and Gavin. Four-thirty in the morning is no joke and even though Niki has been greeting me every day at the butt-crack of dawn, desperate to get me out of my funk, I’m still more of a morning person than she is, and I loathe them. Which is why I head to the coffee pot first thing.

There’s a note taped to the top of a freshly brewed pot. She must have set the timer. Thank God.

Nina,

Mornings suck, but I hope yours is great!

Enjoy!

N~

Shaking my head, I open the cabinets, searching for a to-go mug. Opening the door to the right, I see another note taped to a black ceramic mug that says #coffeesaveslives in white.

Hands off, bitch!

Reaching for the one next to it, I stop myself, realizing she meant this whole section is off limits. The mugs surrounding it all have amusing phrases on them.

Coffee Whore, cause I gotta have it every day.

COFFEE BECAUSE ANGER MANAGEMENT IS TOO EXPENSIVE.

I wish “you dumbass” was an appropriate way to end a work email.

A fun thing to do in the morning is not talk to me.

Deciding the shelf below is the safer bet, I grab a normal-looking, stainless steel cup and fill it, letting it cool while I take a seat and put my shoes on one at a time, because I’m ordinary Nina. Securing my hair, I grab my coffee and head for the door, grabbing Niki’s keys on the way out.

As I get in and start the car, it dawns on me: I’m happy today. I’m excited to head to a job that I chose and wasn’t chosen for me. I woke up for me, not because he needed me to find his keys because it was my fault they weren’t where they were supposed to be. Today is the start of finding myself again.

Putting the car in reverse, I turn on the lights and begin to back out when I notice a bicycle leaning against the deepfreeze. It’s the cutest thing I have ever seen and totally not Niki. It looks like it’s out of the fifties, but with a face lift.

I pull back into the garage and get out of the car, an idea popping into my head. I take the keys inside and hurry back out to give the bike a once over. A rusted turquoise body, but sturdy enough to haul me around. Wheels, firm. A basket to hold my coffee and bag.

I’m doing this.

Walking it out of the garage, I climb on and test out the pedals in the driveway.

All good.

As I make one more circle around, I mentally calculate if I can make it before the coffee shop opens. I woke up thirty minutes early and I’m pretty sure the shop is only a few miles up the road. The longer I waste my time pedaling around the driveway, the later I will get to the shop. So, I go for it.

Nothing but me, my bike and the early morning streetlights. I can’t help but think back to the night I left.

“What are you going to do, Nina?” Brandon is in my face again. So close I can feel the spit as he screams at the top of his lungs. “You going to leave?” He pushes me down on the couch, causing me to land on the laptop Niki bought me for school. I don’t have to look to see if it broke. I could feel it.

He must have known too, by the look on my face.

“What’s wrong?” He rolls me over with such force I fall to the floor. Seeing my laptop triggers another accusation. “This!” Brandon picks it up, shaking it in the air, the pressure of his grip cracking the case. “Is this how you applied for the job?” He throws it across the room, the impact causing the laptop to shatter and the drywall to crack.

“Brandon, I just thought—” I try to stand up, pushing myself up onto my knees.

“That’s the problem, now, isn’t it?” His foot connects to my chest, knocking the air from me. “You were trying to think, when I do the thinking for us!” he shouts, pacing. “I’m the provider! Me!”

“Brandon, I’m sorry, I just wanted to help,” I plead.

I knew I shouldn’t have said anything…my words are the ammunition he needed to lock and load.

Reaching down, he grabs the neck of my shirt.

Bang! Shots fired.

His fist slams into my face and I fall back.

“You did this. You wanted to start a war?” He falls on top of me, pinning my hands above my head with one hand as the other caresses the cheek now battered and bruised.

Leaning down, his lips rest on top of mine, his words just a whisper. “Nina, I love you.” He lifts his head, searching my face for forgiveness.

Closing my eyes, I hide the tears threatening to escape. He’s right. I did do this. I fell in love with a man who wasn’t capable of loving me back.

He lowers himself to his forearms, both hands cradling my face. “Look at me, Nina. I want to see your beautiful face.”

My beautiful, battered face.

I do as I’m told. Surrender.

“I told you I would take care of you. That I would find a way out of this mess.”

“I know,” I respond, waving a white flag.

“Then trust me.”

“I will,” I lie.

That night, I watched him shower and change. Going out once again to “entertain” potential clients on his own dime. Taking them to strip clubs and running a tab on his personal credit card. He thought if he just landed the right client he would make partner at the marketing firm he works for. In the meantime, he ran us into debt and blamed me for it all.

That night, I packed everything I could fit into two small bags and took the money I made from a few small jobs I’d done for the elderly neighbor next door. Brandon thought I was being kind and I was, but she was also paying me each month. With that and the change I collected around the house, I had enough to pay for a cab to take me to Niki’s.

That night, I powered down my phone, stuffed it in my bag and headed down the road.

Vanishing.

Today, I want to be seen.