DaySleeper

When I wake up the next morning, Kane has breakfast ready, with a bottle of Tylenol and a cold glass of water.

“I just…” he says as I take the pills, “I don’t remember doing anything, but I must have. I should have known I was too rough on you.”

I nod, and kiss his cheek.

“You didn’t mean it?” I ask, biting my lip.

“Of course not,” he says, his voice sounding strained. I kiss him hard.

“Then it’s okay,” I promise.

~~
I stay in the house for three days. Mark keeps calling me. Kane sees this on my phone, and becomes furious. He throws my phone into the wall, where it shatters. I keep the day after in my mind, where he promised over and over again that he didn’t mean it, that he loves me. I follow it a moment later, after trying to explain myself. He storms out of the house as I pull a piece of the plastic from my now destroyed phone from my forearm. The blood trickles out slowly.

~~
Kane and I lay in bed.

“Baby?” Kane asks. I make a noise to let him know I am listening. “I am really horny.” He says, turning towards me. I feel my skin crawl. I don’t reply at all. “What, did Mark visit you today?” he demands, “Too sore to make love with me?”

I wince.

“Of course not baby,” I reply, gesturing for him to come over, “Come here.”

He rolls on top of me. My stomach clenches as he kisses me. My heart pounds as he removes our clothes. He lines himself up, and I put my hand to his chest.

“You didn’t prep me,” I remind him quietly. He scoffs.

“Whore like you doesn’t need it,” he says. I push him again as he moves forward. He pushes my wrists into the mattress and enters me. He only releases my wrists in time to cover my mouth and muffle me.

~~
I am terribly sore the next day. Kane had to go to work, but he made me breakfast again, and gave me more Tylenol. He sat there and cried for an hour, apologizing over and over again.

“I am so sorry!” he says. I take his face into my hands and kiss him.

“It’s okay,” I assure him. He lets out a small noise. I pull his face to my chest. “You didn’t mean it,” I assure myself. He nods into my chest.

~~
The police arrive the second week. Apparently Mark was extremely concerned for my well being. I hate him right now, and I regret ever pulling him into this game. Kane joins me at the door, taking my hand. The police officers stare down at our joined hands.

“We were told there might be some domestic abuse occurring in this household,” the female cop says. I find myself laughing, fake.

“Did Mark send you two?” I ask. The male nods. I sigh and invite them in. I ask if they want anything to drink. They decline, so we sit at the kitchen table.

“Mr. Day called us. Apparently he’s very worried about you, Mr. Mason,” the female says.
I sigh and feel my heart racing.

“Mark is romantically interested in me,” I explain, “But I am very devoted to Kane. Mark doesn’t get that. I’ve tried to tell him I am not interested, and I guess he took me confiding in him about my relationship with Kane and our arguments to be some… cry for help? I am not sure what he’s thinking.”

“Well, we’re obligated to investigate,” the male says. I nod, understanding.

“Would you be willing to answer a few questions?” the female asks. I look to Kane who shrugs and nods.

“No problem,” I say. She smiles openly at me and looks and her notebook.

“Mr. Day says he’s seen you with bruises. Care to explain?” she asks.

I laugh.

“I am extremely clumsy. I only grew height wise at 15 or 16. I am still not used to my limbs, my mom says.” I reply. The woman smiles widely. I’d guessed right, she is a mom.

“You said you told Mr. Day about arguments. Strictly verbal, correct?” she asks.

“We don’t fight much anymore since I cut ties with Mark, but it was only ever arguments. He was straining our relationship, you know? I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I value my relationship with Kane more than my acquaintanceship with Mark.” I reply. “He’s a good guy, and his heart’s in the right place, but he was making life difficult. He couldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Well, I think that’s all we need to hear,” the male says, standing. The woman looks surprised, but closes her notebook.

“Thank you again, sir,” she says, and shakes our hands. I see them to the door. Kane watches them pull away.

“I knew you were still talking to him,” Kane spits. I stare at him.

“What?” I ask.

“You got Mark to call the fucking police on me,” he grinds out. I step away.

“No,” I say, “I don’t even have a way to see him. I haven’t even left the house in two weeks, trying to please you!”

“Well, try harder!” he orders and grabs my arm. I try to pull away from him, fear growing in my chest. He yanks me harder and I stumble up the stairs behind him.

“I am sorry!” I cry. He stops where he stands and I bump into him, slouching to the floor.

“So you did talk to him?” he asks, softening. I nod, even though it’s a blatant lie.

He scoops me into his arms. I stiffen.

“Thank you for being honest,” he says. I nod into his shoulder. “We’ll cut him out of our lives. Things will go back to how they were.” He promises. I clutch at his shoulders and feel tears seep from my eyes.

I silently thank god.

~~
The next day, I apparently smell “off”. Kane jumps to conclusions and assumes a man’s been here.

“I wouldn’t,” I insist, “I’d never, ever, cheat on you.”

He holds both my wrists down with one hand.

“Please, Kane,” I whimper, “I promise, I didn’t!”

He doesn’t listen. He never listens. Ever.

“Please!” I cry, hysteria in my voice, clawing its way out of my mouth. I struggle in his grasp, for what seems like the hundredth time. It never stops. He’ll never stop. He promised.

~~
This is the third day in a row that I haven’t gotten out of bed, but to use the bathroom. I am exhausted. I am tired. I’ve convinced myself that if I don’t leave the bed, Kane can’t think I’ve been sleeping around. This worked yesterday, and the day before. He seemed pleased with me. He’d been gentle.

I lay in bed, sore and tired, and stare out the window. I want a cigarette, but Kane’s making me quit. He says it attracts the wrong kind of guys. He doesn’t want people to notice me. I don’t want people to notice me.

Kane speaks with a sick logic. I can imagine him sitting at his desk at work, getting nothing done, but thinking up how I am cheating, planning ways to keep me to himself. It makes me vaguely ill, but I recognize the sweetness behind it. He must really love me.