Just One More Green Light

CW: abusive relationship

Her hand flicked up to brush her hair behind her ears and dread washed over me. The sweat started when she shifted in the passenger seat and my knuckles whitened on the wheel. She angled herself so that her eyes bored into the side of my head.

“So sweetie,” her tone is sickly sweet and cold as ice. “we need to talk.”

“Wha-,” God I hate it when she calls me that. I clear my throat and try to swallow but everything feels bone dry. “Why?”

“Well, I think you know that what you did at my parents was just absolutely dreadful, don’t you?” I don’t want to look at her, so I don’t. I focus on the traffic lights coming up.

Green, Green, Yellow.

I’m probably going to hit a red light in a few seconds. If I just keep counting the upcoming lights, maybe she’ll just drop this. I’ve never been all that lucky.

“Sweetie! Are you even listening to me? I swear you are trying to get dumped. You shit talked me to my parents, called me a liar and an idiot,” She spits at me. I didn’t know people actually spat at one another until I'd been dating Cynthia for a few months.

“But I didn’t say tha-,” I tried to say.

“I didn’t say any of that. I’m always right, I’m sweet and innocent and not at all a stupid whore."- she paused to take a breath.-"I can’t believe you’re still saying I’m a liar.” She flips another lock of hair back behind her.

“I’m not,” I mumble, which she hates. I know she hates it.

“You know I hate it when you mumble, sweetie. Don’t even try to pretend to be the victim here. You know that I was up for a promotion at work and you told my parents I never was. And you had the absolute gall to tell them that I never gave you their check for that commission.” She keeps going and I go back to focusing on the stoplights.

Green, Yellow, Green, Green.

I think we’re going to hit the next couple of red lights. All I can hope is I will somehow magically disappear from the drivers seat. Maybe wake up back at home, with my cat. The one I had to give up because Cynthia had allergies. I had to give up a lot of things for Cynthia. Maybe that should have been a sign.

“My god, you idiot. You missed the turn! I told you we needed to go to the store before we went home!” She berates me through the intersection.

She hadn’t told me, but I know better than to question her. If only I’d known better at her parents house. They just had sprung questions on me that I didn’t have the answers to. I’d never heard of a promotion that Cynthia was up for, so I had simply said I knew nothing about it. Same went for the check. I didn’t even know her parents were interested in my art, let alone that they had interest in commissioning a custom piece from me. But I really should have known better. If Cynthia had told them I knew, then I should have played along. Then I would just be yelled at for questioning her in private, not this.

Yellow, Red, Green, Green, Yellow.

Cynthia yanks my phone from where it was, inthe hands-free holder wedged into the front vent, causing the holder to fall onto the floor.

“If you’re too stupid to follow simple directions then I’ll just take care of them for you,” She furiously grumbles. “Turn left up here, you useless idiot. Ugh, it’s going to take us an extra ten minutes to get there. Not all of us have pretend jobs, sweetie, we have places we need to be.”

The “yes Cynthia” I mumble out earns me a sharp “sweetie” for my trouble. The extra ten minutes seem to pass excruciatingly slowly. Only made worse by the barrage of things I’ve done wrong over the course of the last few days being spewed at me from my right.

Yellow, Red, Green, Green, Yellow.

I’m looking at stoplights that aren't even in front of us anymore, glancing at other paths from the corner of my eye.

When I park, Cynthia finally falls quiet. She takes a deep breath and gathers her purse, dropping my phone carelessly onto the floor next to its holder.

“Well then, sweetie, I’m going to go into the store and be useful. Since you’re being especially difficult today you'll stay in the car. Try to be a good doggie why don’t you. No barking at strangers now, stupid.” The car door slams hard behind her, shaking the entire vehicle.

When the car settles I feel like I can breath. I feel terrifyingly clear, like my head has been in dense fog for months. I can’t help thinking that this is the first time in those months that I haven’t been seeing to Cynthia’s every whim. She only told me to stay in the car, no other orders or demands. I didn’t have to go in and carry everything. I almost don’t know what to do, but my body must. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel again and I start the car.

I’m pulling out of the supermarket parking lot. Turning down one of those paths I'd seen minutes ago when I couldn't breathe.

Green, Green, Green, Green, Green, Green.

It’s like the world itself is helping to set me free. I turn down streets that I haven’t gone down in too long, far too long. I ignore the angrily buzzing device on the floor. I have to drive undistracted after all, safety first. Laughter bubbles out of me, a little maniacal. Safety first.

It takes longer than I remember. A whole two hours longer. But I guess before Cynthia I’d been a mere 30 minutes drive away. They’ve repainted, of course, I remember them talking about it last time I’d been around. There’s a new car in the drive way, its sporty. The landscaping is the same. The dogwood for Sadie, and the forget-me-not’s from when I'd been a bit obsessed in fourth grade. I finger the scruffy Japanese Maple’s leaves as I wander up the stone path to a familiar door. The same old tinny doorbell rings out from behind an ugly, beautiful green door. It only takes a moment for it to open.

“Lyra?” My mom asks, surprise coloring her voice. Tears fill my eyes when I see her arms are already opening and I fall into them.

“Hi, mom,” I choke out. “I’m sorry it took so long, the red lights were overwhelming.”

***

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