Something Beautiful 》ANGEL FACE

Chapter 8

JANUARY 1997

PRESENT...

All I could do was wait. I thought of different things to say, a confrontational or calm approach. If he didn't  have a job, that would mean he was doing something else to fill the time during the night. If he didn't have a job, he didn't get messed up with machinery. He had been lying to me. Why lie to me? What changed to cause him to lie to me so much? He would be home soon where I could confront him about this. I was scared this would be the end of us. I flipped channels but wasn't really watching any of the shows. I was feeling anxious, with my stomach in twisted knots.

I watched from the window, waiting for him to slide into the parking spot. At about half an hour past two, our beat-up car pulled in its spot. I see him, his blonde hair, taking something out of the back in a box. Then he begins walking towards the car, struggling a little with the box as it's so big. I see him disappear into the apartment, and I go and sit down on the couch. He knocks on the door after about ten minutes, with a big smile on his face and a fresh bruise on his face.

"Surprise!" The box had a new unassembled crib in it. It looked like it was also a changing table and could be converted into a toddler bed. My face remained neutral. He looked at me like I had hurt his feelings, "...I know it's nothing too fancy, but..." He shrugs, then pauses to change the thought, "Sorry, what's wrong with it exactly?"

"Oh, nothing is wrong with the crib. It's perfect. I love it." I say, with cheery tone, but my face didn't match.

"Thennnn...what's wrong?" Bryan's asks me, moving the box to the side where it wouldn't block the door.

"I don't know, maybe it's for the fact you don't work at Rugaware. Or the fact you come home every day with fresh bruises on your face. Or ya know," I shrug, "The fact you can't seem to stop lying to me." Bryan sighs, like I was just putting too much on him at once to handle. Ironic.

"I need you to get out of my ass and stop poking around in things that you have no business doing so in." Bryan tells me, "We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world. Accept it." I stared at him like he was crazy after his outburst.

"What the fuck are you saying right now? You come home with new bruises on your face, won't tell me where you've been, you lie so much, I can't trust you anymore, Bryan." I raise my voice back at him.

"You're counting the bruises on my face. That's crazy." Was the only thing he could come up with. More manipulative shit, "Why can't I just do what I want without having you know every little detail?"

"I don't know, maybe because I'm your girlfriend and care about-"

"Don't even start with me about caring about me. You could give a shit about me. The only person who cares about me is myself. So just shut the fuck up already about it!" I didn't cry this time, I would be leaving tonight after he went to work and never return. If he wanted to see Daniel, he'd have to fight for him because this wasn't the Bryan I met. I wasn't having my kid grow up in this crackhouse apartment with a boyfriend who can't even talk to me like I'm a person. One who comes home with bruises on his face.

"Okay." I say confidently.

"I love you, but damn. Did you have a good three days?" He asks me dragging the box to the middle of the floor, "I'll start assembling this tomorrow." He nods.

"It was good and okay." I sit on the couch, holding onto my belly. He sits by me, taking the remote. We end up watching something that I don't pay much attention too. He doesn't speak much because he can feel the tension. I went with the rest of the night and day acting normal. Not forcing it, because other than the lying, fighting, and such, I still loved him very much. He wasn't a simple person.

Molly arrived around 11 to help me pack my things into her car. It wasn't as much as I thought it would be, mainly because I didn't want to bring any furniture. I took one last look at the apartment that I had such ill feelings for.

This isn't where I wanted to raise my kid. This isn't who I fell in love with. I kept repeating in my head. I began to close the door, but then the phone started to ring. And ring and ring. I go and pick up the phone, signaling to Molly she could go and wait in the car on me.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?" I hear a younger woman voice ask.

"Yes, it is. Who's this?"

"This is Samantha Quinn with Hankins Hospital, Bryan Eisner had you listed as his only emergency contact. He's been in an accident."

"Accident? What kind of accident? Is he okay?" I begin to panic, suddenly feeling awful for deciding to leave me. He'd need me now more than ever. I couldn't just leave him when he was already at a low.

"I can not disclose any of that information over the phone, but what I can tell you is his room number 607 on the first floor, in the emergency room." She tells me. That annoyed me she couldn't tell me, it would leave worried until I figured out and then probably even more worried.

"Okay, I'll be right over." I hung up and ran out the door. Molly took me even though she seemed against it. She said I'd want to stay if I saw him laying there all broken. I had to see him one last time to make sure it was all okay. She drives me and drops me off at front. I go through the halls that smell like medicine and cleanliness. 605, 606, 607.

"Hi, can I go in?" They had a curtain over his bed where I couldn't see him, "I'm his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N."

"I advise against it. They haven't put his bandages on yet, but if you insist, you may." Bandages? God, was his face tore up that bad? I walked in and immediately turned my head. They didn't have to tell me. These were permanent disfigurations. I looked back at him, trying my best to hold back tears.

"Y/-..." He croaked out, "Ple..." His face was swollen and bruised. His nose was broken, the hump sticking out. Some teeth were missing, lip was busted,  "Sor...Sor..." I stepped up to him and combed through his blonde hair with my fingers. A tear rolled down my cheek. What he was doing, that he didn't want to tell me, caused this. I was angry, but more so really depressed. He made a helpless choking sound.

"Bryan, I love you. I'm sorry, too." I kissed his forehead, looking down where his hand opened. A golden ring. An engagement ring.

Maybe...No. No, it's not right. Stop thinking. Think of your future. I took the ring out of pity. I gave him a smile of hope.

"You have always been something beautiful to me." I walk out after he drifts off into an innocent sleep.