A Nice Guy

A Glipse of A Poor Girl

We met four years ago, Alex and I. Back in December of 2019.

We grew to be best friends, as weird as that was for a grown man and woman in our mid twenties, myself in a relationship—it just grew into something wholesome and real, and most importantly something completely platonic. We had boundaries, and he respected my relationship.

Not only did he respect my relationship, he respected me. He treated me like his sister, ready to protect me by any means necessary. He'd laugh with me, tease me, and over the years, he'd grow with me. We quickly became adults—real adults with actual responsibilities, and yet we remained closer than I'd ever anticipated us being. I was grateful for the friendship, for that brotherly love an only child could only wish for.

But one day, there was a shift. It was subtle one, almost undetectable, but it was there. His eyes lingered on me for a second longer than they usually would. At first, I'd make a face at him, my confusion forcing me to play it off as a joke. I'd roll my eyes after catching him staring at me, pretending to play along. I convinced myself that he was teasing me, attempting to make me uncomfortable for a laugh.

I stopped attempting to play along when his gaze started wondering my body. He'd wait for me to notice he was staring at me, and as soon as our eyes would meet, he'd drop his gaze to my waist, sometimes below it. It sent chills down my spine, but it confused me more than anything else.

Soon the attention became physical. He'd walk by, grazing my shoulders with his hand innocently enough, but his hand would slide down to my waist. It'd make me jump, of course; an intimate touch from him was never anticipated or welcomed. It made my hair stand and my jaw clench.

I couldn't look him in the eyes anymore, and on the rare occasion that I did, I was never able to hold eye contact with him. It was all too confusing and overwhelming, the sudden shift in attention he gave me. I wasn't familiar with it, and it was like he was turning into a stranger.

I contemplated telling my husband Derrick, but I figured the attention would pass, or maybe I was overthinking it. I figured, maybe I was being dramatic, or worse, I'd done something to provoke this sort of attention from him.

...

If you're interested in reading more of Hazel's POV, please check out my other book, "A Poor Girl"!

I really hope you enjoyed my book, and if you end up reading more of my work, I hope you enjoy that as well!

Please let me know your thoughts and opinions! Did you hate it? Did you love it?

I have mixed feelings, personally.

The ending was supposed to be like a punch in the gut, in a way. Like, we see Alex try his best to become a better person, but in the end, he's still this abuser who's never happy, even when he gets exactly what he wants.

In the end, we learn more about Alex's past, and even begin to sympathize with him because of what he'd gone through when he was younger. But the truth is, it doesn't matter.

Abusers are abusers, regardless of what they've been through. Regardless of what they say, or what they promise. Whether they cry, or whether they punch holes in the walls, they are abusers. And most of the time, they don't change.

I wish you all healthy relationships filled with unconditional love and respect, and nothing less.

Xoxo