“Joey’s … An old friend from Queens.” I know how stupid his reaction to the bear was the first time he ‘met’ him, whether it was in jest or not, it highlighted Jake has a severe jealous side and would probably miss the name of the bear. I hope it makes him suffer in the way he’s making me suffer right now. I hang up just as he explodes. Silencing the onslaught of Carrero abuse and craziness. I stand trying to calm the panic surging through me, my body shaking violently and my nerves trembling. Weak and hysterical, my heart pounding through my chest. I know everything is falling apart around me. My world is crumbling.

I jump as my phone rings and his number flashes across my screen, but I red button him in defiance. He wanted to be an asshole and now he suddenly wants to talk. I reject button him a second time when it rings again.

ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!!!! The text beeps on almost as soon as I lay it face down on the bed, inner fear sweeping over me, so my body turns cold and my limbs weaken.

Jake’s angry, angry. Maybe I pushed things too far?

My anger almost drops out of me with insane speed to be replaced with immediate remorse. I should know better than to rile the jealousy card with Jake, it makes him irrational and aggressive, even with me. He sees red and can’t seem to control it. He admitted to me he’s never had any feelings like that in his past, all so new to him and overpowering and I’ve just handed him a lit grenade when he’s drunk and already pissed. I know him. I know his need to lash out and hurt things, hurt people when consumed like this. As a teen he beat his way through a drunken fueled haze many a time and made the headlines. Last thing he needs now is another front-page mess because his girlfriend tipped him over the edge.

What have I done to him? I’m so stupid! So, fucking stupid! I’m supposed to make him a better man, want to be a better man.

I pick up the phone, swaying with indecisiveness and try to call him, my hands shaking violently. Sick with nerves. I get his voicemail and my stomach drops. I try again and again, five times in twenty minutes but I get his voicemail every time and it suddenly dawns on me he’s switched his cell off.

He’s beyond raging with me; he’s gone off the charts angry. I text him quickly, hoping to god he switches it on and sees it before he does something beyond stupid or calls me back.

Jake, I’m sorry, I was angry, please don’t go mad … Joey is the bear you won for me, remember? I’m in my old apartment xxx I love you. I’m sorry.

feeling of fear tightening my stomach. Choking on tears

apartment tonight and be there for him coming home; fix this. Fix my stupidity. I should know better than to ever play that card with him, it’s the guaranteed

fueled by booze and jealousy is a lethal combination and I just lit the fuse. If he’d done the same to me, I

agonizing journey, but I need

… I’m getting a cab back to Manhattan. I’m sorry xxx I

violently, and all resolve gone. Pulling myself together, I call for

* * *

warms me a little knowing he put it there should I ever be caught somewhere in desperate need of assistance; that I had money to use. It just makes me feel even more wretched

me into the apartment with a warm smile and a look of concern, yet he knows his place and doesn’t ask. I know as soon as I walk in that Jake has never been here. I can

won’t be home for hours if he refuses to turn his phone back on and well, he

he is or what he’s doing. I want him home with me so badly. I would agree to

message on his machine “Jake, please come home. I need you.” Muffled through sobs and

curl into his side of the bed, crying my heart out until I drift into a hazy tortured sleep, dreaming of Jake consumed by rage and

* * *

noise in the apartment, I jump in fright realizing the darkness around me is more

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