Prescription for Miss Walker

By the time ten o'clock had rolled around the next day, my make-up was running down my face due to all the sweat. I didn't know why either, it was just lunch.

I cleaned up nicely, I told myself, as I faced the mirror, eyeing up the girl who stared right back at me. Except for the oceans of liner that had tumbled down my cheeks, I almost looked like a person. I could still exist.

Rubbing off all the heavy applicators, I was certain I still looked amazing and turned to my mobile.

After our brief conversation on his work phone, Ash had sent me a text.

It's a date, it read.

A date. A rite of passage I'd been missing out on for years. I'd grown accustomed to just going out, finding a guy at a bar or club, a park or beach and getting to know his bedroom tactics over the name of his first pet or his favourite teacher in high school.

It was different and, what was more? I liked it. I never thought I would again.

Ben had ruined me for years, stopped me from committing myself in fear of being betrayed again. Just because one man did didn't mean they all would. Men weren't evil, just sinners like everyone else.

I was still in my house robe, the same red one I'd worn on the day Ash and I first began our affair. I figured that, if we returned back here either after lunch or at the end of the day, he would appreciate the memory.

Besides, it was only ten, I had hours to kill before I anticipated any make up sex.

I was going to look presentable, I'd show up at the hospital and we'd go out for a bite to eat. As always, I would fuss over the quantity and he'd laugh at me. There would be no room for awkward conversation because we'd already gotten it out of the way. We'd be back to square one: happy.

Of course, it was his decision on whether to start fucking again or not, I'd take that cock back in a heartbeat. I'd give anything to feel the way his arms slimmed around my waist when he held me, not possessively so much as a craving. I'd lose breath when he kissed my neck, both of our worlds blurring and merging into one perfect stratosphere of living. The way his eyes connected with mine as we both reached our peak and never wanted to climb on back down again.

The reality of the situation came on crashing back down again when I coughed. It became continuous, so I did it into my palm, squeezing my eyes closed against the strain.

Groaning loud, I blinked as I pulled back.

There were sprinkles of red across my palm. My body had released it, in a dying hope to be free of the infection.

Instead of getting mopey about it, I wiped it on the inside of my robe sleeve. I'd wash it tonight – maybe tomorrow.

I was just on the verge of picking outfits when the door banged loudly.

Floating to it breezily, I peered slyly through the peephole, more than just slightly irritated when I saw Dave on the other side.

I threw the door open, not caring for once that I was semi-naked. He'd seen it before, after all.

"What do you–"

I didn't get to finish the sentence, as I quickly came to notice the arm load of bags pooled around his feet, packed to the brim.

His attention met my breasts, albeit only for a second.

"I'm leaving for a week to San Diego. My sister is sick. I was wondering... if you don't mind... could you–?"

"I can look after your apartment, sure." I hadn't been all too kind to Dave, when he had been nothing but pleasant. The least I could do was make sure his home didn't blow up or get burgled.

His grin was soft, sad.

"Thanks, Shira. I know you're not in great shape yourself but I don't..." He paused, probably waiting for me to explode or close the door on him already. I didn't. "I trust you. Just you."

My mood dropped instantly and I started to truly realize how horribly I had been treating Dave. He was nice, a little cowardly, definitely. He deserved to have a girl who loved giving him her time.

She just wasn't me.

So, in a gesture of good faith, I accepted once again, gave him a quick hug goodbye and went back inside. This was probably going to be the first week I'd never see him in the hallway.

My mobile buzzed again inside my house robe pocket. Taking it out, the message appeared on the lock screen.

I ignored the arrhythmic thumping of my heart and opened it.

I have news I want to share with you too. I'll see you in less than two hours.

Biting my lip, I pocketed the device again. On the surface, I might have looked calm and ready, but on the inside... I was dropping bombs.

Why was I so nervous? It was Ash, I had seen him plenty times before. This time wasn't different to any of the others before.

If that was the case, then why was I sweating again?

Almost crying because I knew at this rate I would never leave the house, I was startled when the door thumped again. I was right by it and I hadn't felt a presence, that wasn't like me.

Rolling my eyes, I opened it, expecting Dave to be there with his fuckload of bags again. No doubt he would ruin the moment, as it was something he always did.

"Dave, I already said I would, what do you–" My eyes settled on the figure standing there, dressed neatly in a white shirt and jeans. He looked golden. "Oh. Ben. What are you doing here?"

He pushed past me into the apartment, as I leaned back against the oak.

Turning to face me, I could detect a change in him again. I didn't know what it was, but it freaked me out.

"Ben, I said I needed time to think."

"I gave you a day. That's about enough, don't you think?" His expression was wild, a clear indication he wasn't himself.

"Are you drunk?"

He laughed lazily, confirming my fears. He'd never been a model citizen while under the influence.

"So, what if I am? Are you going to chastise me for it? Two fucking years away from you and you... you still dictate my bloomin' life." His words were getting sloppy, slurring more by the second. "I'm a free man, baby. Why don't you... why don't you get that?"

I nodded, pretending I understood when all I wanted was for him to leave. I did not want a repeat of this morning. That had scared me enough – and he was sober then.

"I get it, I-I do."

Dammit, I stuttered. He'd know how I was feeling now and use it to his advantage.

But he just licked his lips vehemently and circled around on the spot.

"Look at us, Shira. We bought this studio together, we picked out these colours, and we spent hundreds of dollars on this stupid fucking sofa!" In response, he lashed a leg out and struck it. I might have winced, I wasn't sure. I just knew I couldn't move.

"Yet, I was the one who got tossed out, when I worked to pay the majority of the bills, and I still do! And I was the one who got bitched about, emasculated everywhere I went... and for what? Well, I think I know why now, Shira Walker."

Hearing him admit to (yet knowing all along) writing the letters, I guess it made me relieved. At least now, I knew I wasn't insane. For years, he'd been communicating with me, without my permission.

He pressed his middle and index fingers to his right temple as he approached me, centimetres away. I turned my face. For one, I didn't want to be hit with that rancid smell again... the other, well I wasn't sure.

"Because no one ever matches up to you. Not me, not your shitty friends... nobody. I mean, how can they? When those said people don't even want to be around you."

I visibly swallowed. The stench of cheap rum kissing my face with every syllable he spoke, it was enough to make any grown woman shrivel in disgust.

His anger boiled down though, and I was thankful, till he snaked a hand across my shoulders anyway. His fingers slipped under the thin material of my robe and met my bra strap. He pinged it, hard.

"But I do. I could fuck a hundred women willing for me to take their pussy, but I've always wanted yours."

I couldn't help myself. My arm raised of its own volition and collided with his face. It was so fierce, so full of pent-up anger that it affected all my senses.

Ben chuckled, eyes sparkling in a way I'd never seen them do so before.

"I always knew you preferred it rough."

About to retort to that, my words were thrown to the side when I became all too disorientated. I'd collapsed down to the floor, legs under me, tucked and jelly-like, as the heat that had arisen in my face began to pulsate.

Looking up at Ben while holding my cheek, I was forced to register the monster that he'd truly become.

He cracked his wrist, raised a hand and came at me.