“Finally! You’re late!” Eric says, striding over to my door. He hastily closes it and grabs my hand, pulling me in the direction of his.
I raise my eyebrows at his annoyance. “What are you doing?” I ask as he opens his passenger door. “We’re supposed to be going to dinner.”
“We are, but not here. I promised some people we would be there by now. We can talk after dinner. This is a big deal. We need to go.” He speaks as though I’m his errant child. I frown and cross my arms across my chest, refusing to move.
Eric releases a loud sigh, making his nostrils flare as he avoids eye contact with me by looking over my shoulder. He works to maintain a temper that I’ve only seen a small number of times.
“Harper, I’m sorry. I would really appreciate you doing this for me. Afterward we can talk all you want, but this is really important to me.”
I let out a deep breath and get in the car. As soon as I’m in, I regret my decision to be compliant and try not to visibly cringe when he places his hand on my bare thigh. He hands me my cell phone that I’d left at his house, and I accept it and try to fight the impulse to text Max and see how things went.
We arrive downtown with the wish I hadn’t gotten in his car running through my mind for the thousandth time in the last fifteen minutes. My mind wanders to Max again, and I wonder what he’s doing as I follow Eric inside the dimly lit restaurant.
Eric gives a name to the hostess, and we’re taken to the middle of the restaurant where there’s a table with three other couples already seated. They seem to notice us before we’re halfway across the restaurant and one of the men waves to us, grinning.
Dinner is just short of being considered ugly. The “important people” are a bunch of social climbing snobs trying to see whose face they can step on to reach the next rung.
I’ve met plenty of people like this in my life and partially due to the fact that I’ve never cared for them, and partially due to the fact that I’ve just hit number three thousand and eighty-two of times that I’ve regretted agreeing to come to this dinner, I don’t even bother trying to be polite and courteous. When one of them makes a scene to the waitress and acts like a complete scumbag, I snap, excusing myself from the table and leave.
“Babe, slow down,” Eric pleads. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against his chest and he leans forward and kisses my neck, making every muscle in my body constrict.
“Eric, stop.” His breath reeks of expensive brandy, causing my stomach to churn, and his clawing hands make me feel dirty and restless. I push his arm away and continue down the sidewalk.
“Babe, why are you mad? Maybe you just need to get laid. That always puts girls in a good mood. You just need to give it up already, stop playing hard to get.”
I whip my head around, glaring at him. “I’m done Eric! We,” I say, motioning with my finger between the two of us, “we’re done.”
“Harper.” He spits my name, like it’s the answer to all evil as he jogs a few steps to catch up to where I’m heading toward a line of cabs. “Why are you being so damn difficult?” People are starting to stare at us, making me regret for the three thousand and eighty-third time that I got in his damn car. “They were just kidding around, Harper. There’s no need to be so uptight,” he says, fishing around in his pocket.
I stop and face him. “No, they aren’t. But, really, I don’t care because they’re your friends and I don’t expect to ever see them again.”
“You’re not done.” He reaches forward and grips my hip with a sense of possessiveness that sends another wave of anger to course through me. “You’re so damn dramatic and such a tease. Just get in the car, we’ll go back to my apartment and I’ll make sure you feel all better.”
Bile rises in my throat. The combination of the anger that I have right now for Eric, and for myself for staying in this relationship as long as I have, and for getting in the car when I knew that I shouldn’t have, pushes me to the breaking point. I grab the keys he’s twisting around his finger in some maneuver that’s intended to be suggestive but really just makes him look like a perv. He curses as they dig into his skin, and I throw them into an open dumpster some twenty odd feet behind us. All of those years of pool basketball finally pay off and the keys fall with a satisfying clank.
“What the hell? You fucking bitch!” He grips my arm, just above my elbow and whips me back roughly so I’m facing him again. He seethes as his fingers constrict. “I’ve been sleeping with other girls the entire time we dated! You think you’re so special? You aren’t! You’re just an uptight, spoiled bitch!” he yells in my face.
The admission shouldn’t hurt, though it does. I already knew there was a good chance he was sleeping around, but hearing it from him, and wondering exactly how long it’s been going on causes a twinge of pain.
My eyes dance to a few bystanders that I can tell are debating on whether to interfere. I hate that this is becoming such a spectacle.
Retaliations and accusations flood my mind with a plethora of four letter words that would make Kendall proud, but I clamp my mouth shut and walk away. My pride screams at me to go back and let him have it, but a small voice urges me on, reminding me that this isn’t a battle worth fighting. You fight to keep things you want, things that you believe in, and neither of those apply.
I quickly flag down a nearby cab and don’t bother looking back as I climb in and recite my parents’ address. I figure it’s best to worry about my car tomorrow, when I’m not angry and don’t have to wonder if Eric will try and follow me there. The cab driver glances at my reflection in the rearview mirror several times, and then politely inquires if I’m alright as he too just witnessed the end of Eric and me.
Heat rises to my cheeks as I nod and quietly thank him for his concern, assuring him I’m fine.
“Do I want to know?” Kyle asks, getting out of his truck as I climb out of the cab.
“No,” I reply, making my way over to him. Kyle slings his arm loosely around my shoulders, and we walk up to the house together.
“I don’t mean to pry, but why are you still dating him? I understand you want to make your own decisions, and when it comes to dating, that is your choice, but he’s such a loser!”
My sisters have all changed tactics, and rather than complain about Eric, they simply work to discuss Max as much as possible. Kyle prefers to avoid the topic of Max with me, sticking to bashing Eric, which I’m more than fine with.
“I know. I ended things tonight,” I reply as he opens the front door.
Kyle’s eyes snap to me and a smile lights up his face. “Thank God! It’s about time! Sunday, I’m pouring you a drink and we’re celebrating!” He exclaims.
“What are we celebrating?” Kendall asks.
I look up to see her sitting at the kitchen table with Jameson, Abby, Landon, and Max. All have towels wrapped around themselves as they devour pizza. My heart flutters at the sight of Max as he hovers in his chair, like he’s debating whether to stand and greet me, or remain seated.
“Ding dong the douche is gone,” Kyle sings, reaching for a slice of pizza.
“Seriously?” Kendall asks, her voice a few octaves higher as she looks to me for confirmation. “What happened?”
I shrug and walk to the kitchen to pour a glass of orange juice. As I add some cranberry juice to it I see Max slide back into his chair. Obviously neither of us knows the proper etiquette currently.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to do it tonight! What happened?” Kendall asks as Kyle comes up beside me and extracts a bottle of vodka from above the fridge that he hands to me with a grin.
“Who cares, he’s gone!” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “Seriously, there were a few times I really wanted to punch that guy. I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get the chance.”