Tag: teen romance

Cat

She pulls her knees to her chest and buries her face in them, trying to trap the warmth that’s left inside her. Her wet hair sticks to her legs like cobwebs and there’s a dull ache drumming against her skull. Despite the cold water, Cat can still feel the effects of the wine settling deep within her – warm and comforting, like an embrace. She’s cozy here in this little bubble of solace and safety. Nothing hurts here.

A sharp sound pierces through the fog of her mind, jolting her awake. It’s the bathroom door. Cat’s heart thuds against her ribcage as fear and panic seize her. She attempts to make herself smaller. Invisible. But her efforts are futile as she simply sits and waits. Soon enough he enters the room and his ominous steps echo across the tiled floor drawing closer and closer until his menacing figure towers above her. The anxiety in her stomach increases tenfold with each step he takes, like a dark wave crashing down on her with its suffocating darkness. Every breath feels like an effort, as if she’s being poisoned by terror itself – deprived of air and left to drown in despair.

He uses the silence like a weapon; a loaded gun with the barrel pressed up against her head. Like when the back of his hand connected with her face earlier. It’s all meant to prove a point. To exercise power. Every second amplifies his dominance, each shift of movement a reminder that Cat is in no position to fight back. She feels the shift of his weight and soon enough he’s at level with the bathtub. At level with her. He moves closer until she can feel his hot breath on her skin, sending chills down her spine but there’s no mercy here; just another way for him to mark his domain. Softly, sensually, he presses his lips against her arm, and she’s scorched by the flames he leaves behind.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Years of smoking has made Nate’s voice raspy, but it’s a quality Cat has always found sexy, and she hates that even now, even in the state she’s in, that voice can still trigger a carnal want. “I overreacted.” 

Breaking things is an overreaction. Breaking someone, you claim to love is something else entirely. Cat doesn’t know what to say, but she certainly doesn’t say that.

There’s a sigh. His. Not hers. She wouldn’t dare. Only shallow breaths for her. It hurt too much to breathe deeper anyway.

“Cat…” he utters her name and tension grips her even more. “You have to forgive me…”

You have to forgive me. The phrase is a noose around her neck, growing ever tighter each time he utters it. Nate has weaponized this phrase and he unleashes it with calculated ease every time he strikes her. They’d been dating for the last two years, and he’s hit her five times since then. Each of those five times should’ve been the last. Cat knew she shouldn’t have let it get to five times. But there’s a lot of things she’d allowed in the two years since moving in with him.  

She’s suddenly taken back to the day she told her mom and stepdad Jacob she was moving in with Nate. And although she and her mom had a screaming match to rival all screaming matches, all Cat can remember is what Jacob said to her. “You’re too strong to love a weak man like Nate.”

“Cat…” impatience has crept in and it’s a precursor to his anger. Cat’s far too familiar with that anger. She’s been on the receiving end of it a fistful of times now. There was nothing physically weak about Nate.

“I…” she clears her throat, “I forgive you.” The murmured words mean nothing at this point. She only says them because it’s what he wants to hear. She only says them because she doesn’t want him to hit her again. The damage done to her body tonight will take weeks to heal.

“Please look at me.”

Cat lifts her eyes to meet his. Not because she wants to but she’s afraid not doing so will only kindle the flames of his anger. Self-preservation wins out every time. Especially so soon after he beat her. This is the part of the fight where she needed to tread lightly. 

“Babe,” thick furrowed brows set over eyes the color of ink holds her gaze. There’s something like remorse in his eyes. 

“I forgive you, Nate.” She has to look away because she knows that look of remorse isn’t genuine. 

“God, Cat,” This time the kiss is on her left shoulder, and she fights the urge to shrink away. “It won’t happen again.”

That lie has been uttered too many times before and although her body wants her to believe it, her mind can’t let go of the fact that it will happen again. Nathan is going to hit her again. It’s not a matter of if but a question of when and how bad will it be the next time. 

“It won’t happen again.” He utters a second time, maybe trying to convince himself of the lie. He places more kisses on her wet skin. Lingering kisses. Whispery soft lips, the heat of his breath trails from her shoulder, slowly down her arm, to eventually the back of her hand. “I love you so much, Cat.”

His love bomb upends her mind but seduces her flesh. Its fear, anxiety and need balled into arousal. A byproduct of her trauma. 

***

It’s sometime tomorrow when Cat is awakened by the glare of sunlight spearing through the cream-colored blinds of her bedroom window. Sleep gradually loosens its grip on her as she becomes aware that she’s alone in bed. Nate already left for work. 

He worked the typical 9-5 as a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. But they required him to be there at eight for morning conference calls. Thursday nights he joined his work buddies at Louis’s bar and grill for a couple of beers. He’ll come stumbling high to our one-bedroom apartment at about nine or so tonight. It was typical. Part of his weekly routine. Nate is all about routine. 

Cat’s phone takes that exact moment to chime, and she’s forced to rollover and blindingly search for it on her nightstand. Sharp, white-hot pain takes her breath away for an eternal moment and her whole body stiffens. She can’t breathe too deep. It hurts even more when she tries. Eyes clenched tight, she waits and waits and waits. It’s only when the pain subsides to a dull ache that she allows herself a full breath. But it’s more of a shudder. She moves slowly this time when she reaches over for her phone. Her eyes catch the bottle of painkillers. There’s a yellow sticky note with the words: “Take Me” written across. 

Next to that is a joint he rolled for her and beneath it is another yellow sticky note: “Smoke Me”. It reads. 

He even had the foresight to leave her a lighter because she always misplaced hers. This was always Nate’s remedy to the injuries he caused. Cat couldn’t say she minded it.

She drops the phone on the pillow next to her. The lock screen is a picture of her and Nate. He has his arms around her waist, and Cat has her head resting on his chest. It was taken roughly five months ago on their weekend trip to Newport. He’d planned everything. He pulled up to the tattoo studio where she worked at about midday, happier than Cat had seen him in a while and asked if she could reschedule her clients for that day. He went on to announce to Cat and everyone else in the studio about this amazing trip he’d planned, which was supposed to be this grand romantic gesture. But all Cat could think about was disappointing her clients, some of them having waited months for appointments to get their tattoos at Pins and Needles. She’d honestly didn’t feel like going away. 

All she’d wanted to do was focus on work. Losing herself in her art was the best way she knew to get through traumatic situations. But she’d pushed all that aside, smiled as big as she could and gave him a grateful hug. She’d gone because she knew what it would mean if she refused. 

She swipes the screen and focuses in on their picture. They’re standing in front of the Mello family Vineyard, there’s a sunset behind them painting the sky a mix of orange, red and lavender hues. It’s a cute picture. Instagram-worthy. Polished. Filtered. Fake. 

No one knew that just days before She and Nate were at a clinic, armed with half of their rent money with the unwavering intent to take a life. Cat wasn’t sure if the weekend trip was meant to be a celebratory one. What she did know was that the guilt and grief of what she’s done has grown increasingly suffocating as of late, sometime to the point where she found herself paralyzed by it. 

She grits her teeth against the wave of pain radiating mostly from her left side, just beneath her ribcage. But it’s a pain Cat will take any day over the open wounds of her mistakes. Her sins. 

Stop thinking. She tells herself. She taps the recent call icon in the lower left corner of her phone. It’s her mother. She’s called at least three times in the last two days and Cat has yet to call her back. Cat knows she can’t dodge her much longer because she knows how deep her mother’s crazy went. 

During Cat’s first year at college, her mom drove all the way from their small Easterly town to Boston in a panic because Cat had gone two days without calling. Her mom’s fear was fueled by her obsession with murder documentaries, and she imagined the worst possible scenarios for Cat’s absence. To avoid causing her mom any more worry, Cat made it a habit to call her at least once a day, but that has gradually decreased since moving in with Nate. Now, it’s been over a week since she actually spoke to her mom, and she knows there will be multiple voicemails waiting for her. Feeling overwhelmed and seeking temporary relief, Cat reaches for a joint and turns off her phone before lighting up.

One ring, then a familiar voice greets her on the other end. “Hi Mom,” Cat answers, trying to match her mother’s cheerful tone.

“Don’t you give me a ‘hi mom’, Catherine-Grace,” her mother’s stern voice blasts through the phone, causing Cat to wince and pull it away from her ear. She knows she’s in trouble.

“Why did it take you so long to call me back? Were you trying to give me a heart attack? All I got was your voicemail. Do you have any idea how worried sick I’ve been? I was about ready to drive down there–“

“Mom, please don’t,” Cat interrupts, her heart racing at the thought of her mother driving all the way to see her.

“I would have come sooner myself, but you know how Jacob is,” her mother continues, referring to her stepfather who had always been overprotective of her, especially when Cat’s father was still around. After her knee surgery a few months ago, Jacob insisted on driving everywhere with her.

Cat lets out a sigh of relief, knowing her mother won’t be making the trip anytime soon.

“Mom, I’ve been really busy lately. I have a lot of clients and school assignments to juggle…and studying…and Nate…” she trails off, thinking of her boyfriend.

“I understand you have a life, but that’s no excuse for not calling your mother back. I worry about you, Kit.”

The mention of “Kit” triggers something deep inside Cat. Her mom only used that nickname when she was extremely anxious, and it brings back a flood of memories from their tumultuous past. Memories of her dad’s terror and the constant cycle of fear and anxiety they were trapped in. A lump forms in Cat’s throat as she tries to suppress the emotions welling up inside of her.

“I’m sorry.” Cat murmurs. She didn’t want to fight with her mom. “I miss you.” 

Tears well up in Cat’s eyes and she fights the urge to sniffle. 

“What’s wrong?” her mom asks, and Cat can feel her heart pounding against the bruise Nate left on her ribs. 

“Nothing,” she replies, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, but her mom can hear it anyway. There’s a brief moment of silence before Cat feels like she can almost hear her mom’s thoughts on the other end of the line. “Please tell me what’s going on, Kit. I can hear it in your voice.” Her tone softens as she tries to understand. It’s like she knows exactly what Cat is dealing with. Cat takes another drag from her joint, the smoke filling her lungs and providing a temporary numbness to the physical pain on her side. But it does nothing to ease the ache in her chest. 

“I’m just tired, Mom. It’s been a long week,” she lies, her voice trembling as she fights back tears. She knows it won’t be enough to satisfy her mom’s curiosity. She’ll keep probing until she finds out the truth. And then what? How could Cat possibly explain that the person she thought she knew had a dark and ugly side? That the man who promised to protect her was slowly destroying her every time his anger got out of control? That somehow, she still blames herself for everything – for not leaving sooner, for not saying no, for not standing up for herself?

There’s another long pause on the other end of the line and Cat can hear her mom breathing. “Is it Nathan?” she asks finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cat doesn’t say anything. The truth is, she doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know how to make her mom understand that she’s scared, that she feels trapped and alone.

“Is he hurting you?”

Cat can hear the fear in her mom’s voice, and it mirrors the same fear she feels deep in her bones. “Mom, I can’t talk about this right now,” she finally says, barely above a whisper.

“I knew it. I should have never let you move in with him.”

“Mom…” Cat pleads, desperate for her to stop. “I just…I need some time to figure things out.”

She braces herself for the inevitable lecture, but instead, her mom surprises her. “Figure it out here. Come home, Kit, your room is exactly how you left it.”

Her words catch Cat off guard, and suddenly she yearns for the safety and comfort of her childhood bedroom, the familiarity of her hometown, and the unconditional love of her mother.

“Nickie and Jackson are coming down Friday night.” Her mother changes the subject and Cat is relieved.

Nickie was Jacob’s daughter from his previous marriage. She was three years older than Cat and they didn’t have much in common except for being raised by single mothers. But Nickie had always been there for Cat during tough times growing up. She used to come over every other weekend when they were younger because Jacob shared custody with his ex-wife Celeste until Nickie went off to college. Recently, Nickie had gotten engaged to her high school sweetheart Jackson and according to Cat’s mom, they were planning on buying a house in Easterly after getting married.

“It’ll be good seeing them.”

“You’re coming?”

Cat hesitates for a moment, unsure if going back home is the best decision for her. Going home means having to face the reality of her situation. But the sudden urge to escape Nate wins out, “Yeah, I’m coming home.”

The phone call continues for another twenty minutes. Her mom asks about school and Cat gives a vague but positive response, leaving out the fact that she hasn’t been attending classes regularly due to her busy work schedule. Her mom offers money and reminds her to eat, knowing that Cat tends to neglect self-care when overwhelmed. Nate is not mentioned again.

“Have you gone to church?” This question annoys Cat, and she knows it’s time to end the call.

“Not really.”

“Calvary streams their services online…”

“Mom, I have to go, but I’ll see you in a few ways. Love you.” Cat waits for her mom to say it back before hanging up.

The concept of God was never part of their reality until her mom met Jacob. He was a devout Christian who spoke about God as if he were real. Her mom, eager to make things work after her previous marriage from hell, eagerly embraced Christianity at Calvary where Jacob was a pastor. They forced Cat to attend a few times before she left for college, but she wanted nothing to do with the judgmental people at the church or a supposedly all-knowing God who allowed terrible things to happen without intervening.