Footsteps shuffled, rolling wheels whizzed past her, and flight announcements blared over the loudspeaker. Tori grew dizzy from the sensory overload as they waited in the long line. It was Sunday, and the airport was a zoo with everyone heading home from their weekend travels.
“Next!” The agent called.
“We’re up.” Scott nudged Tori. She already had her cane in one hand, carry-on strapped on her shoulder, and her ID and boarding pass in her other hand. She knew there was an extra-long line of passengers behind her, which made beads of sweat stick to her skin.
Scott and Tori walked to the counter.
“Boarding pass and ID?” The lady at the counter said gruffly. Tori could tell from her tone she must be having a rough day. Scott went first, then Tori handed over her items. The agent let out a hmmmpph as she inspected Tori’s documents.
“Is there a problem?” Tori asked.
“Why do you have a driver’s license if you’re blind?” the agent snorted.
“Well, it's the last form of identification I had before I lost my vision.” Tori gritted her teeth. “I’ve never had an issue with it in the past,” Tori said as if she’d taken dozens of flights since she lost her vision and was a pro. This was only her second trip, but this lady didn’t know that.
“Why didn’t you ask for disabled assistance through the line?”
“It’s my right as a visually impaired person to determine what level of assistance I need,” Tori bit.
“You don't look blind. You look perfectly normal,” the lady said smugly.
Tori's cheeks grew hot, but she tried to keep her composure. "That's because I am normal. I just can't see,” she spat back, lifting her aviators to the top of her head. That should do the trick. “I don’t know what you expect a blind person to look like, lady. Want to examine my eyes to be certain? See how my pupils don’t react to light?”
The woman was quiet for a beat.
“Fine,” she finally huffed.
“Tori, she’s holding your documents. You need to grab them,” Scott whispered to her.
Tori held out her hand as the lady placed her ID and boarding pass in her hand. Tori yanked them from her.
Scott grabbed Tori’s arm, pulling her over to the scanner line. The bucket clanked to the metal in front of her.
“Can you believe that?”
“Bucket’s in front of you.” His belt buckle jingled. “One, you need to stop flashing around a damn driver’s license and get a disabled person’s ID. Two, you can’t go picking fights with TSA agents. She probably thought you were faking to smuggle something. This is Miami after all.”
Tori felt for the bucket and placed her bag inside, seething at the rudeness of the agent and Scott not taking her side.
“I’m sorry, but getting a new ID was not top priority on my going blind checklist.” She yanked her sunglasses off the top of her head and tossed them in the bin.
The bucket clanked as Scott pushed them through and led her to the line for the scanners. “You go through first and wait for me on the other side.” He tugged on her, pulling her forward.
“I’ve got this.” Tori shook his grip off. “Stop yanking my arm like I’m a damn child.”
“Ma'am, you will need to step into the full scanner,” the TSA agent monitoring spoke up to her. “And I'll need to X-ray and inspect your cane for explosive material.” Tori groaned. Last time they let her go through the metal detector and skip the body scanner, keeping her cane so she could navigate.
“Fine.” Tori collapsed her cane and held it out in his direction. “Would you please help me to the scanner?”
“Yes ma'am.” He led Tori over to the next line. “There are two people in front of you. It’s straight away. Wait for the attendant to tell you to go in. When you get in, turn to your right and lift your arms up.” He left her to fend for herself. She stumbled toward the machine and did as instructed while the machine whirled around her.
Scott stood behind Tori and watched as the guard made her collapse her cane and led her to the scanner. He was next in line and started to head that direction but was stopped by two TSA agents.
“Sir, we need you to step over to the side.” The first agent said.
“Listen, my girlfriend, who’s blind, is over there by herself,” he protested and pointed to Tori. “I’m her only guide since they took her cane.”
“Sir, we need you to come with us.” The second man invaded his space, pushing his belly that was overlapping his pants closer to Scott.
Scott looked over at Tori, still waiting in line, and weighed his options. One, he could put up a fight and they’d miss their flight and get bumped. Two, he could just roll with it. He went for option two.
Scott nodded and followed them to the side.
“We need you to remove your prosthetic so we can inspect it.” The man nodded to a chair they’d pulled over.
Scott dug his heels firmly into the ground and crossed his arms. “No.”
“Sir, you need to comply,” the guard said.
“You’re not allowed to ask me to remove a prosthetic device. Just like you were not allowed to take a mobility device from my girlfriend.” He pointed to Tori, standing in line, chewing on her nail. It was killing him that she had no idea where he was. “You may inspect it however you wish, but you’re not legally allowed to make me remove it.”
“We have reason to believe there’s something inside the leg.”
Scott would have laughed at the absurdity of that if he wasn’t so pissed.
“Yeah there’s something in the leg, my stump,” he growled.
“If you would like to be taken to a private room, we’ll allow that, but you’ll need to remove the device.”
He glanced over his shoulder to look for Tori, but she was nowhere in sight. He could pitch a fit due to his disability rights, but he was more concerned about Tori than his own dignity at the moment. Scott flopped down in the chair and pulled off his leg.
Scott leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest while the guards looked inside the socket and swabbed it down.
“Now that, please.” The second man nodded to Scott’s liner.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Scott glared at him. The guards just stared back with deadpan expressions. Scott grit his teeth and rolled off the suction cover and his compression bandage, all the way down to bare stump, for good measure. He just wanted this over with so he could get to Tori. “There.” He clenched his jaw.
Mumbles and whispers came from the people in line. He had a full audience now for the circus.
“It’s clean.” The one guard looked at the other, and they nodded.
“May I put my leg back on?” Now that you have completely violated my rights as a person with a disability.
“We just need to pat you down.”
“Well, I’m gonna need my leg to stand.” You fucking asshole. The man held out the prosthetic, and Scott yanked it from his grasp.
“Ma'am you can come out now.” New voice, female this time, and still no indication Scott was nearby. What the ever-loving hell? Tori moved to the outside of the machine and stood for further instruction. “Please step to the side.”
“Is there a problem?” Tori asked.
She ran a wand up and down Tori, beeping as it hit her wrist. Tori frowned. "Do you have any metal that would trigger an alarm?" she asked.
“I have a pin in my wrist.” Tori ran her finger across the scar. “My medical ID card that clears it is in my wallet…” Not that she had any clue where her wallet was.
Her hands raked up and down Tori’s body without warning, causing her to jolt from the violation.
“Ok, you’re clear. You may go now,” the TSA agent said coldly.
Tori swallowed the lump in her throat and rubbed her temples, wishing she could make sense of the noise swirling around her. She had no idea which way to go. She was utterly lost. “The other agent—the male one—took my cane to scan it. Could you retrieve it for me please?" Her annoyance level was threatening to break through the roof.
The lady sighed. “What does it look like?”
“Oh my God! I’m blind, dammit. It’s a folding cane for the blind!” Tori’s voice raised an octave.
“Oh! God, I’m sorry!” Her tone softened. “Let's get you out of the way of traffic.” She pulled Tori over to the side.
Yanked like a damn toddler once again.
“You stay here, and I'll go look." The woman disappeared into the nothingness. Tori stood there for what felt like an eternity.
“Sorry.” Scott’s voice finally reappeared through the fog of noise. “They pulled me to the side after the X-ray and swabbed my leg, made me pull it off, which they’re not supposed to do,” he growled. “Then they gave me the pat down." She could tell he felt bad for leaving her for so long. "What's going on?"
A few moments later, the lady returned. “I’m sorry, ma'am, but they seem to have misplaced your cane.”
“Misplaced it?” Tori's voice grew louder, and her cheeks flushed hot in anger. “How in the hell does that happen?”
“We’re very sorry, and we’re looking for it. It's possible it got mixed up with someone else's belongings by accident. We’re doing the best we can to locate it.”
This is unacceptable. “Oh, yeah, because I'm sure people are going to mistakenly walk off with a blind person’s cane.” Tori was infuriated.
Scott placed his arm on Tori's shoulder. “What do we do now?”
“She can file a claim with lost and found. Hopefully, it’ll turn up,” she said apologetically.
“Did you bring a backup?” Scott asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
Tori fought to keep it together, but she could feel the hot tears of anger burning her useless eyes. She sucked in a breath and swallowed her emotions.
“Can you make it without it, babe?”
There was no way she could navigate a bathroom—or anywhere—alone without it. The cane was her independence, and without it, she was lost. She’d have to rely on Scott. She nodded. “I’ll use the restroom on the plane if I have to.”
“Ok, let's just get to the gate.” He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her forehead.
They managed to board without any further mishaps. Tori buckled her belt, leaned her head back against the seat, and let out a long breath.
“That drink cart can't arrive soon enough,” she groaned.
Scott chuckled and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Hey, we made it through, right?” He patted her trembling hand.
“Barely.” She shook her head. “I wish I had a dollar for every time a person has questioned me because I don't look blind enough.”
“Well, in their defense, you don’t at first glance.” He pulled out a magazine from the back of the seat and leafed through it as the plane taxied out onto the runway.
“What's that supposed to mean? What’s being blind supposed to look like?” she asked defensively. “Is it because I don't have squinty or discolored eyes? Or is it because I take pride in my appearance? How should I look according to societies perceived notions?”
He rolled his eyes, put down the magazine, and turned to her. “I was giving you a compliment.” He stroked her cheek.
“Well, it's infuriating. Just because I may not look blind doesn’t give people the right to be disrespectful to me. You don’t know how many whispers I've had to endure. She doesn't look blind. Aren’t blind people’s eyes supposed to be weird?’” Tori mocked, “Lucky me only ended up losing my vision completely, but thank goodness I'm still pretty.” She crossed her arms.
Scott knew he was treading in dangerous territory, so he said the best thing that came to mind. “Yes, thank goodness you’re still hot, because I sure do enjoy looking at you,” he leaned in closer and whispered, “I’d sure hate to put a bag over your head while I fuck you. Unless you like that sort of submissive thing… I mean, I’ve always seen you as a dominant, but I’m game for whatever, babe.”
Her face exploded in a megawatt smile, and she laughed so obnoxiously she snorted and drew a few stares. “You’re crazy.”
She ordered a drink when the flight attendant came by and took a nap on Scott's shoulder while he read a book.
“We've landed.” Scott nudged her.
Tori let out a yawn and stretched. “Wow. I was out.”
“Yeah, you were. You were snoring,” he teased her as the plane came to a halt at the terminal.
“I don’t snore!” she protested.
She didn’t, but he liked messing with her. “It’s probably a deviated septum from your car accident. We should get that looked at.” He bit his bottom lip to avoid laughing.
“God, maybe Keith was right. I should’ve got the nose job.” She touched the bridge of her nose.
Scott erupted in laughter. “It’s so fun to fuck with you.”
“Asshole.” Tori smacked his arm.
The plane grew noisy as people filed out. They were able to board first, however, it does you no good on exit because everyone is trying to get out at once. He’d wait a bit to let the crowd die down.
Tori pulled out her phone, put in her ear bud, and started messing with it. Eventually, Scott got up to get the bags. Her overstuffed suitcase was jammed in the bin; it had shifted during the flight. Why did she refuse to check the bag when she carried so much? I had to check mine, why didn’t she just check hers?
In one fell swoop, as he pulled the suitcase free, Bam! His elbow hit something. He turned as Tori grabbed her nose and dropped to the seat.
Oh shit.
Gasps and whispers came from those left in the cabin around them. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Scott’s eyes widened. “Oh God, babe! I'm so sorry.” He pulled her hands away to assess the damage. Blood streamed down her face, dripping into her palms.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” A flight attendant weaved herself through the crowd. “Here you go.” She handed some napkins to Scott as he pushed Tori’s head back, trying to stop the bleeding.
He looked to the flight attendant. “Can you get me an ice pack?”
The attendant’s eyes widened at the amount of blood, and Scott tried not to dizzy himself. It was now down Tori’s shirt and dripping in his hands. “Sure.” She ran down the aisle. Tori sat there for a long time, saying nothing, holding the napkins to her nose.
“Babe, say something. Are you ok?” Scott rubbed his hand on her arm. “Dammit. I'm so sorry.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded. “How bad is it?”
He pulled the napkins away. “The bleeding has stopped, but the bridge of your nose is starting to swell.” He cringed. “You’re gonna to have two black eyes tomorrow.”
“I may need a nose job after all, or at least that paper sack.” She mustered a smile. "Ouch, smiling is bad…" she winced.
The flight attendant returned with the ice pack, and Scott placed it on her as she grimaced from the cold. “Is she ok?” the attendant asked Scott.
“I’m fine,” Tori managed to say, which sounded more like “bine” with her pinching her nose. “I do speak, you know. He doesn’t talk for me. I’m blind, not mute,” she huffed at the attendant. Tori stood and grabbed her purse. “Let’s just get home.”
Tori sat up, took the ice pack off her face, and put it on the coffee table. “I’m done. I can't take anymore. It's freezing.”
“You’re gonna have to get that nose looked at, and I’m not messing with you this time,” she could hear the cringe in his voice. "We should go to the ER. I’m worried you broke your nose again, babe.”
“No!” she shouted at him. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” He came over and sat next to her and grabbed her hand. She yanked it away. “I can't take anymore today. I can’t.” She was so tired, and the last thing she wanted was a long night in the ER.
Scott’s phone rang. “Hello… Yes… I see… Ok, great. I appreciate that.” Scott hung up the phone. “Airline called. They found my bag. It’ll be delivered here tomorrow morning. They didn’t find your cane, though.” On top of the fiasco of getting off the plane, the airline had also lost Scott’s bag he checked that held his extra prosthetics and travel crutches. Thankfully, he had a few items of clothing in his backpack.
“Well, a cane is cheaper to replace than prosthetics, so I’m glad they found your bag.” She started to stand. “I need a drink.”
He put his hand on her leg for her to stay put. “Ok, I'll make us one. You rest.” His footsteps echoed into the kitchen.
“Stop fussing over me!” she yelled, rubbing her temples.
The glass clanked as he poured the drinks.
“Ok. I understand you're pissed at me. It was a shitty day. I dropped the ball watching out for you.” Scott raised his voice a bit. “At least you weren't the asshole that gave his blind girlfriend two black eyes.” He gulped his drink then slammed it on the counter. “Do you have any idea how awful I feel?”
There’s the problem. These were the days she feared would drive a wedge between them. “You can't watch me every second, Scott. Today was not your fault; it was the inevitable fall-out of having a blind girlfriend. This is the kind of day I warned you about.” The fact he was blaming himself made it worse.
“Still, I'm sorry.” He came over and hugged her. “I always want to take care of you and make things easier on you.” His voice dripped with pity. She never expected Scott, of all people, to treat her that way.
Fire coursed through her veins. It was everything she feared. Scott and his heroic obligation to take care of the poor, helpless, blind girl. “Stop pitying me. I don’t need a caretaker. I can take care of myself!” She yanked out of his embrace. She walked over to the table by the door and opened a drawer, pulling out her spare cane.
“Where are you going?” He came over and tugged at her arm.
“Don’t grab me!” she shouted. “I’m not a toddler.”
“Then stop acting like one,” he spat.
Her blood boiled as she bit her tongue.
“I need to get out of here.” She put on a pair of glasses to cover her black eyes and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I just need some time alone to think.” She flicked open her cane.
“To think about what?” Scott snapped.
“Everything.”
Scott watched Tori walk out the door in a huff. He resisted the urge to follow her. His instinct was to watch out for her and keep her safe, however, he had to balance that with giving her independence and solitude, which meant there were times he'd have to learn to let her go.
He poured himself another drink and sank into the sofa. Her words echoed in his mind. It will become a bitch. It’ll invade every aspect of our lives…
He thought he had a grasp on living life with a disability after what he had been through. As determined and independent as Tori was, she was right. Her disability would demand his energy and attention even more so than his own, mainly from her own stubbornness.
He got a small taste of that this weekend, despite all the fun they had. Her blindness would always be there as a force to be reckoned with. Add onto it the endless heartbreak… She wouldn’t lay eyes on him on their wedding day, she would never see the children they may have, she wouldn’t watch them turn wrinkled, grey and old together. Tori was right, if he dwelt on that thought too long, it flooded him with more sorrow than he could hardly bear.
Tori grabbed a drink at the bar around the corner then took a cab over to Keith's house. He still lived in the old, renovated townhouse in Georgetown they shared years ago. She paid her fare and tapped the three steps up to his doorway and knocked.
“Hey, gorgeous!” he said with shock as he opened the door and gave her a kiss on the cheek, ushering her into the foyer.
“Sorry I didn't call first. My cell phone died. I couldn’t Uber—had to hail a stupid cab. That was a nightmare. Apparently, they can’t see me, either. The white cane is like the cloak of invisibility.” She groaned and let out a sigh. “Anyhow, I took a gamble that you’d be home.”
A second pair of footsteps entered the room, followed by a strange voice.
“Who was at the door, Keith? Oh…” the deep voice trailed off.
Soft music played in the background, and a heavenly scent wafted through the air, causing her stomach to rumble. She’d obviously had crashed in on Keith’s date.
And now I’ve ruined Keith’s evening, as well. Good job, Tori.
“I’m so sorry. If this is a bad time, I can go,” Tori apologized. “I didn't realize you had company.”
“It's fine, Vic,” Keith chimed. “Vic, this is Jonathan. Jonathan, this is my good friend, Victoria.” Tori shifted her cane to her left, extending her shaky right hand in anticipation for a shake. Jonathan’s hand slipped into hers gently.
“Nice to meet you,” Jonathan said in a soft, soothing tone. He had a warm, deep, buttery voice. “Can I get you a drink, Victoria?”
“Yes, vodka tonic would be fantastic.” Tori knew Keith always kept that on hand.
“Coming right up.” Jonathan shuffled out of the room.
Keith took her cane and ushered her over to the sofa.
“Also, a charge would be appreciated.” Tori pulled her phone out of her pocket.
“You got it, sweetheart.” Keith took the phone from her grasp. He grabbed her hand for a moment. “Good grief, Vic. You’re trembling…”
“My nerves are shot.” Tori bit her lip.
“You look like something the cat drug in.” She was so angry when she left, she didn’t even care what she was wearing. She probably appeared as if she rolled out of bed. Her hair was pulled back into a messy, little ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of cropped sweatpants, a T-shirt, and converse. God only knew if the colors even coordinated.
“Oh, you haven't even seen the half of it.” Tori pulled off her sunglasses.
A gasp came from Keith as he eased onto the sofa next to her. “Holy shitballs, Vicky. That looks painful.” He paused for a moment. “Scott didn’t. He wouldn’t—”
“No, no, no,” Tori cut him off at the pass, "not intentionally, anyway."
“How rough of sex did you all have this weekend?” He lifted her chin and turned her head toward him. “I mean, I know you're kinky, Vic, but this is a whole sadistic level.”
She let out a feeble laugh. “It wasn't rough sex, although that would be a much better story.” She filled Keith in on the details as Jonathan entered with her drink.
“Here is your vodka tonic.” Tori extended her shaky hand as the cold glass slipped into it. “Keith, I'll be in the kitchen.”
Tori felt rude intruding on their date. “No, you can stay. It's fine. I won't be long. Please, sit.”
“I need to clear the table anyway. You two have your privacy.”
Well, at least they’d finished dinner.
“Anyhow,” Tori continued. “After the whole TSA nightmare, I didn't think the day could get much worse, but as we were getting off the plane, I stood up behind Scott while he was pulling the bag out of the overhead compartment, and that’s when his arm came back. It hit me square in the face.”
“Oh my God. I can’t even imagine how much Scott’s big arm hurt.” Tori knew he was cringing from his tone. “That's embarrassing.” Keith giggled a bit.
“It's not funny!”
Keith stifled another snicker, and patted her hand. “I’m sorry, I'm terrible.”
“You are!” she exclaimed. “Poor, little blind girl gets hit in the face, and you laugh at her.” Tori thought about it for a moment and started laughing herself, imagining the scenario in her head. “Ok, so it's a little funny.”
“So, why aren't you at home laughing about it with Scott?” Keith questioned.
She took a sip of her drink and waved her hand. “Scott feels terrible. He blames himself. He’s making it his sole mission in life to protect me from myself. I warned him about days like this, about what life would be like with me.”
“Oh God. Are we back to this again?” Keith huffed in annoyance. “What, pray tell me, did you say to him?”
“That life with me could be pretty unbearable.”
“Honey. Oh, honey…you’re unbearable, but not because you’re blind.” Keith chuckled. “You're so crazy. You are really to blind to see it.”
“See what?”
The leather sofa squeaked as he settled in further. Tori imagined him crossing his legs and sprawling his arm on the back in his normal Keith pose. “You have an amazingly gorgeous man who’s attentive to your needs, sexually and emotionally. He is willing to navigate through this life with you, and you’re sitting here sulking on my sofa. Why?”
Tori pondered it for a moment. “I don’t want him with me because he needs to be the hero. I don’t want him to give up his life for me. I want him to be happy. I don't want him to always be on the lookout for me, and the type of guy that Scott is, he’ll do just that. I care for him too much to do that to him.”
“Is that your decision to make?” Keith asked. “I know you. There’s more to this than just that. This is your thing, Vic. It has nothing to do with you being blind. You’re scared of anyone that gets too close. You’re so afraid of losing control that you self-sabotage to try and stay in control.”
She groaned, knowing Keith was right. “If I push him away, he can't hurt me,” she confessed. “Keith, I’m terrified to let him in. All he sees right now is my blindness. What happens when he really sees me?”
“Oh, honey, he’s always seen you, exactly for the wonderful creature you are.” Keith rubbed her cheek.
“I’m scared of losing him, Keith.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I don’t know if my heart can handle any more loss in this lifetime.”
“Without risk, there’s no reward. You have to determine is Scott worth the risk?”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Come here. I want to show you something.” Keith pulled her off the sofa and led her upstairs. She knew this house about as well as her own and knew he was taking her into the third bedroom that was mainly full of storage and junk.
“Why are you taking me to your room of shame?” Tori chuckled. It was the one area of his entire house that was unkempt, and Keith banned anyone from ever entering it, thus dubbing the name.
“Don’t move.” Keith firmly planted her in a spot. He rustled around for a few minutes as things clanked around. Tori stood there, growing impatient.
“Ah ha! Got it!” Keith pulled her over toward him. He placed her hand on what felt like a canvas.
“A painting?” Her nose curled. “Are you trying to make me feel worse?”
“You’ve seen this one, because you painted it.” He moved her hand to another canvas, then another. Tori counted five canvases in all. Her heart started pounding, and she dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers delicately over the raised lines of impasto she’d applied with a palette knife. She remembered every curve, every color, every stroke.
It was her and Scott. The one she sold years ago in her exhibition to an anonymous bidder right after Scott left DC.
Tears began spilling down her cheeks. “H-how…” she choked on her words, unable to even speak. “You were the bidder?” she choked.
“I couldn’t bear to see it go to someone else.”
She couldn’t believe that Keith kept it hidden all these years. She was overwhelmed with gratitude.
“I was saving it for a wedding gift, because, well…I knew.” Keith knelt next to her and put his arms around her shaking shoulders. “I think you know, as well, Vic. I think you’ve always known.”
Tori thought about Scott, and all the years they’d shared. She called to mind his smile, his scent, the feel of his arms around her, and the passion and friendship. He. Was. Everything. She wanted to spend her life with him, and to be honest, it’s what she always wanted. I can’t lose that. She knew if she kept behaving this way, she would push him away. Her heart needed him, and she was tired of pretending she didn’t.
“I’ve got to go.” She stood.
“I think you do.” Keith gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. They walked outside the room and down the stairs.
Jonathan’s footsteps grew near.
“Would you like a ride home?” Jonathan asked.
“No, I've intruded enough on you two for this evening. I'll grab an Uber.”
“Not in those clothes, smelling like a wino, you won’t. They’ll take one look at your pitiful blind ass and drop you off at the homeless shelter,” Keith insisted. “We’re taking you home.”
Tori locked her front door and placed her items in their familiar spot. It was eerily quiet. It was just past nine, and she'd been gone several hours, but she assumed Scott would still be awake.
“Scott?” Tori called out for him as she slipped off her shoes but was only met with silence.
She walked into the bedroom. “Scott, are you in here?” She ran hand across the smooth sheets. The bed was still perfectly made.
She wandered back into the living room, checking the sofa, which was empty. There was a faint scent of cigarette smoke. Did he smoke? I’ll murder him. She ran her hands across the coffee table, nearly knocking over his empty glass of whiskey. She palmed it. It was still cold to the touch, wet on the outside from condensation.
She checked her phone. There were no messages or calls from Scott. She dialed him, and there was no answer. She put her phone in the pocket of her joggers.
She went back into the bedroom and sunk onto the bed, trying to collect her thoughts. Her own words echoed in her head “I need you to consider it all. If it becomes too much, I understand. I’m giving you a get out of jail free card. I want you to realize what you’re getting into with me.”
Tori's heart pounded in her ears. Did he leave? Was this all too much for him?
She went to the corner where she knew he kept his bag out of the way. She kicked her foot and hit the wall. She fell to the floor, rubbing her hands across, searching.
“No, Scott. You wouldn’t…” a whimper escaped her lips. He wouldn't do this to her. Her throat tightened, and she gasped for air.
She stumbled to her desk, groping, searching for any sign that would tell her differently. Yanking a pair of jeans off her chair, she lifted them to her nose hoping to smell his cologne. The scent of copper filled her nostrils. Those were her bloodied ones from earlier.
She clutched them to her chest, fighting tears, sinking to the ground. She’d done it. She’d pushed him away, to protect herself from the very pain she was feeling right now. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks.
She sat there for some time before getting up. She walked to the closet to put her pants in the laundry. Something soft hit her bare foot. She reached down and grabbed the fallen item.
She ran her fingers over the cotton fabric with elastic waistband. Underwear? His underwear? What in the hell? Tori pulled her phone out of her pocket and tried calling Scott again, but there was no answer.