Control Me

8

4 years later, present.

Emiko, 22

Nestling the phone between my cheek and shoulder, I plant one hand on my hip while the other nurses a wine glass. I impatiently tap my foot.

All of a sudden he can't answer?

I roll my eyes, listening to the dial tone ring for the fourth time. He's been calling me nonstop for the past few months and in the last hour..? Fifteen times. I've been ignoring his calls rightfully so, all he does is beg and at this point I'm over it. I never wanted to speak, see or hear from him again but somehow he still manages to insert himself back in my life. I have been trying to avoid him at all costs but even a task like that has come to be difficult.

Anytime I was forced to be in the public eye it just so happens to be that Clancy is also there. He'd manage to catch my gaze and find any excuse to be near me. It's unsettling how often I've run into him since the week before we broke up. One minute he's complaining about being swamped at work and never having time for himself let alone me and the next he seems to have all the time in the world.

"Come on, pick up the fucking phone." I mutter under my breath. Eyeing the wine glass in my hand, I tilt the glass and finish off the last few sips quickly. I even pat the rim against my mouth until I get the last drop. That's how stressed this breakup has been making me.

I look down scowling at the three boxes silently mocking me.The mess in my hallway is driving me insane and if Clancy does get his ass over here soon I'll be dumping his shit in the streets.

Honestly, I had forgotten all about his stuff tucked in a small corner of my closet. I'd gotten so used to seeing it there it that I didn't really notice until he reached out. Finding yet another reason to come and contact me.

Calling about clothes he's never worn.

Claiming he's left keys, wallets and money laying around.

I roll my eyes and lick the sweet blood red liquid from my lips. I listen as the last dial tone rings out and just as it's about to go to voicemail the asshole finally decides to pick up. "Emiko?" He rushes out.

I tense up not really expecting him to pick up. Even if I did want him to come get his shit that didn't mean I wanted to willingly speak to him. "Come get your shit." I immediately say. I make sure to keep my voice firm, he needed to understand we were over.

"Can we talk?" He tries.

"What's there to talk about? You've called me fifteen times in the last hour about a couple of old shirts with holes in them. I'm telling you to come get them now." I kick the box of his things with the tip of my foot. "End of conversation."

"That's not what I want to talk about. Come on Emiko, will you be serious for once?" He has the nerve to say.

I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing hysterically but fail.

"What's so funny?" He scoffs.

"You've really got some nerve." I sigh, sidestepping the box and enter my kitchen to pour me another glass. "You made a choice and in return I did the same." I lift my glass in the air and examine the amount with a squinted eye.... I could use some more. I pour a bit more before taking a sip. "So if you were expecting tears or a change of heart then you have sadly mistaken for the wrong woman. Now let's be mature about this instead of wasting time, come pick up your things and let that be the end of this."

"Just hear me o-"

Not giving him a chance to finish his sentence I end the call and march back into the living room. Summer and Eden are sitting on my couch animatedly chatting away, I take a seat on the floor and place the bottle of wine on the table for them to grab.