History Doesn't Repeat Itself

Chapter 10

It was early Saturday afternoon and my psycho ex was outside my front door. He looked—annoyingly—fresh, and he smelled like how he smelled the first time I met him—like fresh laundry.

Oofy was in the backyard, so I didn't have to worry about him being scared of Dave. 

"Christy," Dave says.

I don't reply. How could I? Why would I? Why should I? 

"Please, Christy." He says. His voice sounded desperate

I try my best to ignore him but I gave in to temptation. 

"Why are you here?" I say in the calmest tone I could manage.

"I'm. . . I don't expect you to talk to me right now. But It won't hurt to try, right?"

"No. You knew I wouldn't talk to you. Why even bother coming here? Leave. Leave before I call the cops."

"Please, Christy. This isn't about me trying to get back with you." He says. And I don't like that he sounded like he was telling the truth.

"Then why bother talking to me? Wasn't the seven years enough time for you to move on?"

The tone of my voice starts to get louder. I just couldn't stand his presence. Every time I hear his voice, I could remember the night he tried killing Oofy. I hate that the only physical proof that I had of our relationship was the scar on Oofy's eye.

"Can I please just come in?" He says.

Hell no. He really expected to visit his ex's house—which clearly hates him—and come in all willy-nilly after 7 years of non-stop stalking and trying to get back together even though he knew in his heart that I would never forgive him. The fucking audacity of this man is insane.

"You expect me to let you in? Have you gone mad, Dave?" I shake my head and lean against the door. "No. Forget it. Just leave already."

"I'm serious, Christy. I just really want to talk. I want to apologize. To say sorry for everything I did."

"Why say sorry now? Why not then when you tried to kill Oofy? I can't fucking stand your bullshit!"

"Christy, please. I just really need to talk. If you don't want to listen to me, then I won't stop. I'll keep going to you, trying over and over again. I want to say sorry to your face. Not through text. And definitely not through this damn door."

I let out a big sigh and slowly crack open the door, leaving just enough space for me to peek out.

"Fine. But if you so much as touch me in any possible way, I'm going to call the cops. I have them on speed dial. Just the push of a button and you're dead. Got that?"

Dave nods. "You know I'll never do that, Christy. I would never dream of hurting you, and I never will."

I wince at the fact that what he was saying was true. Even though he was drunk and aggressive, he never did anything to hurt me.

Dave was toxic and ignorant. He didn't even care that he had me as his girlfriend. All he cared about was the feeling of having a girlfriend.

But I could never call Dave abusive. He was sweet when he was required to be. He was affectionate whenever he wanted to be. He never yelled directly at me. And he sure as hell never tried hitting me. And I still respect him for that. It's even the reason why I agreed to let him inside. He was safe. I felt safe.

Now we're seated in the living room. The only thing separating us was a table.

I notice him staring deeply into my eyes as we sat across from each other.

"So? Start talking," I say, breaking the silence.

"You're still very pretty even though you got in the car crash," he says in a hoarse, low, soft voice.

I pretend to barf.

He laughs. "Come on, you know you like it when I call you pretty."

I can't believe that I'm actually considering this, but he was right. I used to love it when he called me pretty in that voice.

I giggle a little bit, and I go back to the issue at hand.

"Tell me why you're here, Dave. Don't try flirting with me. It's not going to work."

"I know it won't." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "Christy, I wanted to say sorry for the shit I did back then. I'm sorry about everything that happened. I was drunk, and I didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry for hitting Oofy and. . ."

"You did more than just hit him, Dave. You swung a baseball bat at him."

"That was in the past, Christy. Will you ever let go of that? I'm sorry, okay? Let's not bring Oofy into the conversation anymore."

I tilt my head and I feel my eyebrows furrow.

"How can we not? His blind eye is the only living memory I have of you. I can't let go of something I see every day."

"I said I was sorry."

"Saying sorry won't bring his eye back, won't it?"

Dave pauses and stands up.

I reach for the phone behind my back and hover my thumb over the dial button.

"What are you doing?" I say.

He looks at me and shakes his head slowly. "You don't want me here. You don't want to talk to me at all. Do you?"

"I never said that," I say, and It was a half-truth I'm going to give him the privilege to hear.

"Bullshit, Christy. I know what you're trying to do. It's not going to work with me. It might work for Lev, but it's not going to fucking work on me." He says as he heads to the door.

Lev? He knew Lev?

"What? Lev?" I say as I stand up and grab his elbow, stopping him mid-step. "You know him?"

"That's not something I want to talk about right now, Christy. I won't talk if you don't want me to. I've caused you enough trouble already."

I think of something to make him change his mind.

"If you agree to talk, I'll hug you." I blurt out, cringing at myself for saying it out loud.

"You'll what?" He says, turning to me.

"You heard me. If you tell me what you know about Lev." I bite my lip, quickly debating on whether I should actually do this. But It had to be done. "I'll hug you. Like a real hug."

"What's a hug going to do?"

He tries to take another step, but I stop him.

I didn't want him to stay, but I wanted him to tell me about Lev. I want to know where he is, who he was, and how he ended up after I was in that accident. I didn't miss him or anything, which was strange. But I really needed to remember him. I wanted to meet him in person and talk to him. I wanted to see him again. 

"Please tell me, Dave," I say.

"This isn't something I would talk with you about, Christy. This isn't a conversation I can have with you even if I wanted to."

"Dave!" I yell out.

He turns to me with visible frustration in his eyes. "I can't, Christy. I won't be part of your life anymore. This is goodbye, for good this time. I hope you remember what you need to. I loved you. And I can't take back whatever I did in the past. I'm sorry." He says that last part with pain in his voice.

Turn my head as I see a familiar silhouette just outside the fence as the sound of Dave's boots fade.

My heart dropped and I feel a burning sensation inside my stomach.

He's here.

Gale was here.