With love, your dearest hater

Chapter 1

"I'm not gonna let you jeopardize everything that I've built, Noelle!" Dave punches the cold metal desk in front of him and I flinch. The guard standing by the door makes a move towards us as he hears the bang and I nod with my head, assuring him I was fine.

Dave realizes his reaction and grabs his nape with both hands intertwined looking at the crack in the ceiling in disbelief. He stares right back at me "That we have built together, Noelle" he sighs, correcting himself in his chair with both elbows at the table looking straight into my eyes waiting for some kind of reaction. Any response to all the bullshit he had been spilling all over me for the past ten minutes "Noelle?" — he asks.

"Dave" I Interrupt myself before I can continue. I don't even recognize this man anymore, five whole months in jail have made him into a completely different person. He's thinner, poorly shaved, cheekbones are higher, his jaw more pronounced, his eyes now lack any kind of emotion. Now? The posture, how the orange jumpsuit fits, his tone — all foreign to me. Gosh. I could keep on going all day, but I won't. It pains me to see him like this. This was the man I had been planning on spending the rest of my life with. "I don't know what to say, Dave. I guess this is all just too much for me to take in right now" — I finally say, sounding weak and hopeless

"Just think about" he sounds frustrated like he was trying to explain something utterly difficult to a three year old. That was just not it. I stood there looking pretty, because I don't have it in me to confront this man right here and right now. I'm not buying this crap. Framed? Come on. Dave starts bending over the table and getting closer to me. For once, I feel threatened by his ways. He expects an answer as if I owed him something and it was his rightful place to get it. I have nothing to say. Nothing. He's not entitled to even ask for anything after what he put me through last year. Been through hell and back. I look up to meet his eyes, but I still have nothing to say. Or do I? I wanna tell him he fucked up and I'm moving on with my life. That I don't wanna be held back by a loser who thinks he can get away with anything. For Christ's sake, look around! When I'm about to hit that note he shifts.

His posture becomes far more amiable, like the man I once knew and that makes me even more resentful — he's just trying to persuade me. There's Dave again. He noticed the anger grew big enough to come out and adapted in the sheer light of seconds. There he was, the good old Dave.

I stand up and make a signal to the guard telling him I'm ready to leave. I'm disgusted and pitiful. But I look naïve. Dave stands up at once and grabs my arm "Where are you going? Noelle! I am not finished! We still have time" He's borderline yelling and the people on the desks next to us become startled.

"That's enough Robertson! Time's up. Hands behind your back" the guard finally says. Dave looks displeased but obeys. As the guard puts his handcuffs on, I'm staring at the floor, trying not to partake in this scene. When I look up, I see the guard's tag, he's name is Felix — the name I wanted to give our baby boy once we decided to try for one. Felix should mean happiness.

That is not the life I wanted. For god's sake, this is what I left my career for? This is what I moved to fucking New Jersey for? It all starts sinking in, deeper than ever. He then looks at me with a sweet tone and says — "hey, Noelle...I'll make sure you are taken good care of, I just need this small favor in return. Then everything will be back to normal — this will only be a hiccup in our life. When we're old we're are gonna look back and laugh" He cannot be serious, what a fucking clown. The guard proceeds guiding him through the metal door into the lobby where other inmates wait for their visits.

A female officer then comes and guides me through the door. I look around and the start noticing how women here resemble one another. Sad, desperate, still in love with those men who do not deserve them. Or so I figure. Do they think I resemble them as well? Otisville is a federal prison for white collar crimes but one never knows people's stories. This thought is atrocious, I have nothing to do with them. I want out, I want my life back to how it was before we ended up in this situation.

Even though it's a minimum security facility, there are a lot of checks to go in and out of this space. The amount of paperwork you have to fulfill is incredible. It takes me at least another half an hour just to leave the building and get to the parking lot. When I get to my Mercedes I sit down in disbelief, I start banging my hands against the steering wheel and end up breaking down in tears. What the hell happened to me? I don't even know what's real anymore.

After my nerves settle. I remain seated, starring at this gigantic diamond on the fourth finger of my left hand. "What the actual fuck have you gotten yourself into, Dave?" I say to myself as if he could hear me, I'm exhausted from all this distress. I recompose and start the engine, getting ready to drive in silence to New Jersey for the next two hours as I have for the past 5 Saturdays at 9am.