Thank You

Encounter

Here it is, rising strong and tall in front of me, and I can't help but shudder at the sight. I hate it. The cold white of the modern shaped walls is nothing like Cate. The building is nothing like the special, unusual, one-of-a-kind woman I fell in love with. It looks so generic, similar to every house in the neighborhood. It feels unpersonal, so unlike Cate.

I stand still on the sidewalk across the street, staring at the big shiny – yet so bleak – house from afar. The lights are off. After all it's past three by now. I can't do anything else than look at the white building. My feet are like stuck in cement, and I can't move. My body is stiff, and I don't even try to step out of this trance because I know I would fail. What exactly is keeping me away from crossing the empty street and burst out the door to take Cate away from her monster of a husband ? Even just thinking these words make blush in embarrassment.

She was right. I am so young. I am just a kid, and I still think and act like one. How silly of me to think I could simply kick down the door and enter the house without anything bad to happen. I am nothing but a fragile little puppet Andrew could take by the neck and break in tiny pieces before throwing it in the trash. Where I belong. He could snap me in half with a twitch of his wrist. What can I truly do ? This is all I can think about as I am standing face to face with this house I despise. I can't even ring the doorbell, it is three in the morning, and I would have to explain where I come from. And the truth obviously isn't an option. I am the teenage girl your wife met and fell in love with within a week. Stupid. And I believed I could save her all by myself.

But before another word can cross my mind, the lights illuminating the outside of the house suddenly turn on, and my heart skips a beat ? Did she see me ? Is she coming to meet me ? To touch me ? To kiss me like she wrote she wanted to ? But when the door slams open, my heart simply stops beating. I have to repress the sudden urge to throw up as I watch Andrew come into the recently lit pathway. Not him. Oh, no. Not him. My feet still seem to be glued to the ground, and no matter how much I want to run away from him, I just can't move an inch from the place where I am currently standing. He is the one starting to cross the dark street to get to me, and if his face battered with fury looked atrocious to look at from afar, seeing it up close is something I wish I could have never lived. His hands rolled up into tight fists open up at once as he pushes me onto the pole of the streetlamp planted behind me. My body is able to move again, but I stay passive, looking right into his eyes red with anger.

"I knew it was only a matter of time until the little fucker who writes love letters to my wife would turn up at my house."

His hand is still on my chest, but he doesn't add any pressure ; the look on his face is enough for me to give up the idea of fleeing. I remain standing, my back leaning on the cold metallic pole, staring at the face of the man I couldn't despise more. I had never seen it before, but it exceeds my expectations. He is even more monstrous than what I imagined he would be. But then again, I suppose I didn't want to imagine him.

"I don't know what you think you saw, or heard, or whatever, on Christmas, but you are delusional. Cate is safe. She always has been around me. I don't know what kind of fucked up act is going on in your little brain, but you got it all wrong. Thinking she could love you. Ha ! What a joke. You are nothing but a kid. A filthy little kid who just wants attention and decided to ruin the first happy family she ran into. Well, not on my watch. You show up again ? You write to my wife again ? I won't be half as nice as I am right now. You can make sure you won't be able to walk back home after I'm done with you."

I wish I had started recording before he stormed out of the house.

"We're a happy family. We're having a kid. If this isn't love, what would you call it, huh ? If you're so good with words, what d'you call it ? Oh... cat got your tongue ? Right. So, you remember, don't get anywhere close to my wife. My wife. If you do, well, I fucking warned you. You don't try to see her. You don't come to our home. You don't go the that stupid theater. You don't write, or call. You don't try to fucking contact her. You cross her in the street ? No, you don't. You walk away if you see her. You don't get near her. You think that's simple enough for you to remember ?"

I don't answer, still staring at him with a half-hidden look of disgust.

"I asked a question."

My mouth stays closed, but I know my chin is slightly trembling.

"I asked a question !" he starts yelling, his fist clenched again, ready to fly right into my face, "You answer when an adult is asking you to talk !"

His eyes and face seem even redder as I keep looking at him silently. He backs away a little, turning his back on me for a half second, before violently turning back to face me, madder than ever. His hand flies, and in a split second I think the threat he voiced out earlier is what is waiting for me now. The force of the blow makes me fall to my knees again, and I can taste blood in my mouth. I think I might have bit myself accidently when hit me.

"I'm gonna go back inside. When I look outside the window, I want you gone."

With these last few words, he turns his back on me for good and walks back to the house he had the audacity to call a home without a single last glance towards me. It takes me second to stand up again, but as I do – wiping the blood off my chin – I finally see her. She's hidden in the darkness of the room she's standing in, but I can see the cut on her cheekbone clearly enough in the moonlight. I straighten my back, ready to fight my way into the house. The sight of Cate hurt is one I cannot bear to see. Not anymore. It has to end. But when I look back at her staring by the window, I can see her shake her head slowly, a sad smile on her barely healed lips. I know the blond waves hide more damage, but I am too far away to truly see. But I can see her shake her head, and with one last look, I turn away and run.

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this is when i specify once again that i have nothing but respect for both andrew and andrew and cate's relationship. this story is doing him dirty, I KNOW, i am the one hating myself for writing some of these things, but well, it is all fictional, and a big part of the plot is based on how andrew acts, so, bear with me. all that to say it again, i do not think ill of andrew AT ALL.
yep, that's it, also yeah sorry we're getting dark again.