Release Me

Part 8

My pen tapped in an erratic rhythm on my desk as I stared out the window. The gray skies added to my gloom. Normally I'd blame it on top drop, but I wasn't the one who'd played with Samantha two nights ago.

"Your gloomy Jazz isn't helping, you know," Samantha said from behind me and I turned to find her leaning against the doorframe.

"Jazz isn't gloomy."

She shrugged, but didn't move from her spot.

"When are you going to tell me why you left?"

"Some things are best left in the past." I swiveled my chair, but it was caught in mid-turn as she forced it back around.

"Oh, no you don't. For the last six months, you've buried yourself in this room on that computer. When you aren't doing that, you're out with gods knows who, beating them or something."

I glanced down at my lap and took a deep inhale to calm the threatening internal storm I worked so hard to keep at bay.

"Get your hands off my chair." Samantha reacted to the firm tone like my chair was on fire and stepped away. I straightened my shoulders as I lifted my head and sent a look that told her I was in a little mood to argue. Based on her reaction, she'd gotten the message loud and clear. "If my presence bothers you, I'm glad to start the search for another abode with haste; however, neither remaining here, nor leaving, will change my desire to share with you what happened in Boston. You can either accept it as fact, or we can change the boundaries of our friendship."

This time she took a large step back and put both hands up.

"Alright touchy. I thought you loved it up there with him. Something obviously changed, and I'm your friend."

I nodded and crossed my ankles, adjusting in my chair.

"A few things happened. He's always been a perfect gentleman, in relative terms of our relationship. There was a sudden change in my situation, and... he was in love with me."

Samantha smiled at those last words, but as the picture formed, she frowned.

"You don't love him?"

My fingers drummed on my thigh, and I scowled at myself when I noticed the unconscious action.

"That's irrelevant."

"How can you say that? You two seemed great together. I mean, there were time when he was really harsh with his expectation, but you were happy. Unless I'm missing something. Was he abusive?"

My lifestyle and line of work always brought that question to the forefront. I understood it came from a place of caring, but it always made me bristle a little.

"No, he was far from abusive. Quite the opposite of late. The closer we became, the softer he was toward me."

Samantha shook her head and laughed. "That's what people in love do, Atlas. They dote on one another, call them sappy names and let all the little things go."

"Until those little things pile up. Then they are at each other's throats over a thousand annoyances." I pushed up out of my chair so hard it slammed into my desk. "The boundaries changed without my input. When my world crashed around me, he was ready to celebrate because he couldn't see the truth right in front of him," I screamed and blinked back the tears I'd held back for so long.

Her stunned expression chased the edge of my rage as I worked to re-contain the emotions I refused to face. I'd chosen this path out of fear, but in the end I would win because I was free, no matter how much I wished I wasn't.

"You know, you could go talk to him. Work all the problems out. Then you wouldn't have to do your... day job."

I shook my head and rubbed my crossed arms with my hands to fight off the non-existent chill.