The Girl who cried "Abuse"

"Abuse!" That's what she declared. "Abuse!" Was the statement she gave the cops. "Abuse!" she cried on the phone with his mother. "Abuse!" She screamed in the parking lot of Walmart. "Abuse!" She screamed in the backseat of the car next to her sleeping, one-year-old daughter. Only, she wasn't being abused. She was the abuser.

Where as he was the victim.

I'd known him six-months. I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved with a younger man. I didn't want a boy playing idly with my heart - let alone one with a child and a "wife."

Only as it turns out, he wasn't actually married. He did have a child. A one-year-old daughter. However, when it came to having a "wife" - it was actually a young woman - nineteen- who claimed the title without any actual formality. She was, as one confidant quietly confided, a nuisance. A girl who had it in her head that she and him were meant to be together for the rest of their lives.

Who could blame her? It was a bitter truth that I knew all too well. Often, that first love isn't real love - it's a small rain storm that only prepares one for the eventual torrential hurricane that love often affords us. As a woman who had to embrace the bitter-sweet reality of love, I knew what she was hoping for...that walk down the aisle...that long white gown...to be able to say "Until death do us part." Only she didn't quite realize that she would be the death of her own relationship.

It wasn't exactly a secret that he was stepping out on her. He was, after all, miserable and from his perspective, trapped in a tumultuous relationship with a woman who greeted him each day with contempt in her eyes. Based on observation, I could see that he was afflicted. I saw him as he worked the line, taking in one order after another all while his phone continued to sound off with it's demands.

On top of work stress, he had her. A woman who sought to control every single aspect of his life and made it a point to constantly degrade him with cruel remarks. Though, no matter how many times he said he was leaving, he continued going home to her. Not for her but rather, for the sake of his daughter. A daughter whom he loves more than the world itself.

It's not easy trying to be a father to a young girl whose mother was controlling and vindictive. This he had confided in me on one of our many rides to my place. A favor he did as I didn't have transportation. It didn't take long for his child's mother to catch wise to us hanging out. The moment we arrived at my place of resident, his phone would begin to blare and "wifey" would scroll across his phone's screen.

Always having to go - we would make the most of whatever time we could get together. Whether that was in the main galley at work - A place that connected the front of house to the heart of house - or, in the back of the restaurant or, on a walk around my neighborhood or, in my very living room.

We would talk about our lives often sharing in each other's happiness and pain. It didn't take long for true feelings to emerge. After three months of talking, it became evident that something deeper resided between us. We sensed it and everyone at work could sense it too - a fact that no one shrugged their shoulders to or sighed derisively.

Initially, I worked to deny and suppress those feelings. The last thing he needed was to be burdened with another woman in his life - let alone having to deal with the ramifications of leaving his child's mother to be with me. However, eventually, he let it be known that he too was conflicted. Making it known that what he felt was simple but that the overall situation was not. To which, he confided in me one of his deepest fears.

"I have a prior and she keeps saying that she's going to call the cops and put my in jail. She keeps telling me that if I leave her then I will never see our daughter again." He cried. His head buried in my chest. his body shaking.

"She can't take your daughter away from you. She doesn't have the right." I consoled. "And if she does, you have people willing to testify to the love you have for your daughter and your character. We know you. We know you aren't what she says you are. We see you. I see you."

"I'm not even on the birth-certificate. The day she was born, my license was expired so they wouldn't let me sign and there's no way that she will let me." He lamented.

"Well then," I suggested, "perhaps it's time to be more pragmatic. Figure out what you have to do to get access to parental rights. You are her father and your daughter deserves to have you in her life." I stated.

I remember him looking at me as my gaze went elsewhere. His eyes penetrating...boring...as if trying to see...something. That very thing that I was denying myself. The very same thing that I was denying him.

He could tell I was nervous. There I was in his car, feeling anxious and yet, funny enough, at the same time, calm. Though - I could feel my heartbeat throbbing in my hands, in my ears, in my lips, in my neck...between my thighs. Every part of me wanted to pull him to me but I knew better.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I just can't...I mean...being around you is exciting. It's the most liberated I've ever felt. I just know...look, I'm here for you come whatever but we have to lay off on the car rides." I declared.

"Why?" He inquired.

"Because she's resorted to threatening me. She continues to message me and block me off your social media. She already told me that she wanted to hurt me. That she has no problem coming to where we work or coming to my home to prove her point. Not that I'm afraid of her. I have experience on my side. It's you and your relationship with your daughter. I would hate for something to happen and for you to lose all of that. What's more, is to have a hand in it...I don't think I could ever live with myself. It's evident that I truly like you. I mean I really like you.

I mean, I have never felt like this before. It's as though my heart is still, yet I know it's still beating. That I can't breathe and yet, I am still breathing. But now? Now isn't the time. We have to be smart and that starts with you doing what you know needs to be done. It starts by being honest with yourself and realizing that you deserve more than a woman who continues to hurt you. Your daughter deserves to see a happy, healthy relationship and the longer you stay with her the more at risk you become. I don't want to be an escalation point. I want you to do this for yourself." I admitted, my hands fumbling with a piece of paper now crinkled beyond recognition.

Sensing my unease, he reached out to my hand and held it with his. So warm and strong. His fingers, lacing with mine brought me comfort and at the same time, a familiar urgency of longing. As I went to pull away, I felt his grip gently tighten.

"It's true and you're definitely right," he said "It's just that I can't stop thinking about you. You are so kind and so open and so honest and, not once have you judged me or belittled me or called me stupid or worthless. I can't help but be drawn to you. I want you. I need you. Please...won't you just look at me?" He asked.

It was a hard thing to do...to turn and face him. My eyes already heavy with tears but even as I slowly turned my head, I felt his hand fall gently under my chin. He slowly turned me towards him and brought his lips close to mine and in that instant, despite all reason, logic and rationality, I gave in.

It was like being sucked into a vortex - parts of me collapsed, other parts of me grew stronger and even some of the broken bits began to shake and regather. I was eclipsed by a power higher than self and it was existential. I melted and I folded until I felt his hands on my thigh. His hands on my breast. His hand on my neck. My hands too, were wildly in search of him. Wanting all of him, I pulled him in closer. I wanted him so much closer...

And then, the phone rang.

We both looked at the phone screen already knowing.

"I've got to go." He said, that spark in his eye diminishing in thought. I gripped his hand gently.

"I know." I replied.

I remember getting out of that car never wanting to get out of that car. I could spend such a long time in that car. With him. As I watched him drive away, I knew what he was going home to and in the instant that his car disappeared around the corner, my phone rang.

It was her.

END OF PART I. Be sure to subscribe for Part II coming soon!