What You're Worth

She gasped. The force had shaken her from a dream, pulled her from her deep sleep. Her eyes darted around, frantically taking in her surroundings. She’d only just realized where she was when there was another blow to her back and shortly after there was a punch to the back of her head. She moved to sit up when his hands clamped around her arm. It was strong, firm, and painful. His fingers dug into her skin and she knew that bruises would soon call for long sleeves. She tried to pull her arm from his grip but that only made it worse. He crawled on top of her, pinning her arms above her head with one hand and with the other, he grappled for her neck. His hand squeezed around her windpipe, cutting off the air supply.

“Ben!” she gasped but it was little more than a rasp. His eyes were open but the stare was blank. He was still asleep, trapped in a nightmare that he couldn’t get out of. She inhaled rapidly, dying for breath, for air. She thrashed beneath him, her arms flailing around for anything she could use. Things fell to the floor as she hit them and finally she gave up trying to grab something and instead tried to grab him. She pushed her hands against his face. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and with her last ounce of strength, she slapped him.

The hand around her neck released and she threw herself from the bed, gasping. She sat on the floor, back against the wall, chest heaving. One hand went to her throat protectively. Ben blinked a few times before the room and everything came into focus. His gray eyes landed on her and it finally registered.

“Oh god,” he whispered. “Maya, I—” But he just shook his head. “No.” He repeated the word over and over and pressed his fist against his forehead. “No, no!” Slowly, Maya got up off the floor and moved towards him.

“Ben,” she said softly. He looked up at her. His cheeks were wet and his eyes were bloodshot. “Shh, Ben, it’s okay.” She sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Ben cried into her neck. Each breath Maya took burned but she rocked Ben back and forth. “It’s okay, Ben, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home.” Ben’s tears dropped onto her skin and rolled down under her shirt. And still she rocked him. She stroked his hair until he quieted down and then she laid him down. Maya lay beside him until his breathing evened out and she knew he was asleep. Then she got up from the bed and made her way into the bathroom.

She would have to wear a turtleneck in the morning to work. Her skin was red and already black bruises were forming fingerprint patterns on her neck. She lifted her hair and assessed the damage. Carefully, she probed the sore area, wincing each time, but there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage. She was about to leave the bathroom when she caught sight of her arm. There was a bruise shaped like a grip about six inches up from her wrist. Maya sighed and flicked off the light. But she didn’t go back to bed. She padded into the living and walked over to the large window that overlooked the city.

Since it was four in the morning, there wasn’t much going on. A few cars rumbled in the streets. The sun hadn’t even deemed it late enough to rise and streetlamps cast yellow pools of light across the sidewalk. Maya pressed her palm against the cool glass and sighed. This wasn’t the first time Ben had woken her with his restless sleep. Usually he’d kick her a few times, maybe punch her, sometimes there was a lot of yelling. But Ben had never strangled her before. He’d never been that violent. His dreams, they were out of control. The nightmares plagued him constantly and even when he wasn’t sleeping, Maya could see that they affected him. If you accidently snuck up on him, he’d jump, fear and anger mixed on his face, sometimes lashing out before he realized who you were. Certain things would send him on a downward spiral and the only comfort he could find was in the bottom of a bottle.

After an hour, after watching the sky go from blue to purple and pink with the promise of the rising sun, Maya went into the kitchen to start coffee. As the water warmed, she leaned against the counter. It would be easy to cover these bruises. Long sleeves. Turtleneck. She would claim she was cold. It would be easy.

She reached into the cupboard and pulled a mug from the depths, filing away a note to do the dishes tonight. Maya poured coffee into the cup and added the right amount of cream and sugar until almost none of the original flavor remained. Ben always laughed at her.

“Why do you even drink coffee if you’re just going to cover up the taste?” he’d tease. He liked his coffee black. “Just like my women,” he’d say with a wink. This was recurring joke they had. Ben and Maya had met through friends. It was a blind date sort of thing. And Ben had this image of Maya before he met her and well, in it, she was black. Maya was not black at all and the first time they saw each other, Ben had blurted, “Why, you’re not black at all!” And that’s when Maya had decided he was a keeper. She loved Ben with all her heart. And that’s why she couldn’t just let him go. Not just because of terrible nightmares.

With her fingers wrapped around the cup, hip resting against the counter, Maya sipped her warm drink and watched the sun being its ascent across the sky. She didn’t want to go to work today, didn’t want to leave this apartment and Ben. She worried constantly about him. The nightmares didn’t just go away when his eyes were open. Sometimes they were suddenly there, in front of his eyes, taking him away from this reality and throwing him into another. And when he’d finally emerge from them, weary and beaten, he’d sit in a chair, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and that’s where Maya would find him when she got home. Sometimes he would be drunk and other times he’d just be vacant and empty.

There was no rhyme or reason to the episodes. Different things triggered them. And sometimes he had good days. Those days were few and far between. But she knew when Ben was having a good day. Maya would come home, feet sore, mind burnt out, and the whole apartment would be clean and dinner would be cooking. These were Maya’s favorite days. These were the days that made everything worth it.

After her coffee was gone, Maya put the mug in the sink and went back into the bedroom. Ben was still sleeping, snoring gently, sprawled across the bed. The covers left his back exposed and the gentle sunlight made his skin look golden. Maya smiled. If this had been any other morning, a morning where Ben hadn’t wrapped his hands around her throat, maybe she would have gone over there and curled up next to him, waking him with a kiss. He’d wake lazily and their bodies would move together slowly. But Ben had had a rough night and he needed sleep, not sex. So she slipped into the bathroom and pulled off her shirt and got in the shower.

It took a minute for the water to warm up and then Maya quickly washed her hair and body. She stood in the shower, eyes closed, fists pressed against her eyes. She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a body slid in behind her. Bare skin against bare skin, slipping against each other in the water. The warmth was nice and Maya let herself relax in Ben’s embrace.

His lips felt like lava against her neck. They lingered there like maybe they could magically make the bruises go away. Maya closed her eyes and arched against him. Ben’s hands slid over her body, sliding down the mountains and into the valleys of her being. She turned her body to face them and they collided, collapsing into each other. He was the strength to hold her and she was his savior from the darkness that claimed him.

Ben finished the shower. Maya got out and rubbed away some of the condensation on the mirror until she could see herself in the streaky reflection. Large blue eyes, pale skin dotted with freckles, wet clumpy bangs and long dark hair. In the mirror, her image was distorted. Blurry. Maya sighed and went into the bedroom where she dressed in her required uniform: black slacks and a white shirt, buttoned all the way to collar to hide the marks. Comfortable black shoes. Then she put her wet hair up in a bun and went back into the bathroom.

By now Ben was done. He stood in the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, abs on display. Maya stared for a moment before going up to the mirror. She wiped away the rest of the condensation and then reached over to flick on the fan.

“Hey, I’m naked here,” Ben said. “I’ll get cold.”

Maya grabbed her tooth brush and squeezed some red tooth paste onto the bristles. She hated the taste of mint. Cinnamon was okay. “So go get dressed,” she replied. Ben walked up behind her as she shoved the brush in her mouth and started scrubbing her teeth. He brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. Then he disappeared into the bedroom. Maya could hear the sound of drawers being opened and then closed. She heard the sound of someone making the bed. When Ben was all done in there, Maya was just finishing up with her makeup and they traded spots. He got ready and she picked up clothes off the floor and tossed them into the hamper by the bathroom door.

When she was done, Maya looped her arm through her purse and fished the car keys out of the glass bowl on the table. She paused in the middle of the living room. Ben walked out of the bedroom, his hair crazy from where he’d towel dried it.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Ben didn’t have a steady job. People would call him if they had something for him to do but mostly he just combed through the want ads and walked around town with resumes in his hand.

Maya shrugged and kissed Ben on the cheek. His silver eyes were sparkling. It was so easy to forget all the bad when he was like this, all happy and carefree and considerate. Sometimes Maya thought the good days were worse than the bad days. The good days gave tales of false hope. And then the next morning, things would seem better. Maya would feel like things were going okay for once. But then she’d wake up in the middle of the night to Ben thrashing and screaming and crying and she’d have to coax him from the haze of battle. Seeing Ben like that tore her up inside. What sort of horrors had he seen there? He didn’t talk about it. He rarely remembered the fits. It was like they were just erased from his memory. But he didn’t need to remember what had happened to know that it had. Ben said that Maya always had a certain look about her on days when he simply couldn’t fight the bad dreams off.

“I love you,” Maya whispered, pressing her forehead against his.

He searched her eyes. “It happened again, didn’t it?,” he said softly. Maya swallowed and she saw Ben’s eyes flicker towards her neck.

“Ben—” she started to say but Ben’s nimble fingers undid the top buttons on her shirt with quick precision. Maya didn’t look him in the eye. She heard him suck in a breath and felt his fingertips brush against her skin. It sent shivers down her spine.

“Maya, I—” But she silenced him with a kiss and a small smile.

“I don’t blame you,” she said. “I’m fine.” She kissed him again, longer this time.

“I love you,” Ben said, gripping her hands. “I love you.” Maya gave him a small smile and then she left. The door shut softly behind her and she leaned against it on the outside. With shaking hands she did up the buttons and smoothed her slacks. She readjusted her purse and took a deep breath. Then she started down the stairs and hoped that things would get better.