Breaking the Grid

party

I'm in the kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta, exhausted from the day. Joe's been more unbearable lately, sticking around when I need space, always trying to pull me into conversations I don't care about. I don't even have the energy to tell him to leave anymore. I can hear him pacing around my house, his voice droning on about losing some big partnership at work. It's all noise in the background until I feel him—his body pressed against mine from behind.

"I had such a shit day, Blair. You don't even care, do you?" His voice is low, close to my ear, and it makes my skin crawl. I feel trapped, and his hand starts to wander.

"Joe, stop." My voice is steady, but the fear is rising fast inside me.

Instead of backing off, he moves closer, his hands sliding down my side, too familiar, too invasive. I grip the edge of the counter with one hand, using the other to push at his arm. He's so much stronger than me, and it's like pushing against stone.

"I said stop!" I raise my voice this time, trying to step forward, but Joe slams his body into mine, shoving me hard against the counter. The edge bites into my stomach, and I wince in pain, feeling his breath on my neck, his hands roaming my body like I'm some object he owns.

He's holding me there, his hands trailing up and down, his fingers grazing over my thighs, then moving to my chest, pressing against my breasts for a second too long. My stomach twists in disgust.

"Get off me!" I manage to get out, my voice cracking as I try to shove him away. But his grip tightens.

"You're so beautiful..." he mutters, almost absent-mindedly, as if he's talking to himself. "It drives me crazy. You've been acting weird lately, but I can fix that. Liking women... it's just a phase. You'll get over it. I'll help you." His hands keep moving, now over my stomach, and I can barely breathe. My body goes stiff with revulsion.

"Joe, I swear to God, stop." I'm shouting now, panic gripping my chest.

But instead of stopping, he presses a hand over my mouth, silencing my screams. "Shut up," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous, "Just shut up, okay? Be a good girlfriend for once."

Tears sting at my eyes, and my heart races in terror. I'm trapped—his body is too heavy, his strength too overpowering. Every second feels like an eternity as his hand moves from my mouth, brushing against my neck before traveling back down to my hips. I can't stand the way his touch feels, can't stand the way he talks to me like I'm broken, like I need to be "fixed."

"You're mine, Blair. Your dad knows it. You just need to fall in line."

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, cutting through the suffocating tension. Joe curses under his breath, his grip loosening just enough for me to push him off. He turns to the door, anger flashing in his eyes as he storms toward it.

"Who the hell is that?" he growls, yanking the door open.

Leah stands there, her face immediately hardening when she sees him. Her eyes dart to me—standing in the kitchen, trembling, my hands still gripping the counter as if it's the only thing keeping me upright. Her voice is sharp, steady, "Blair, are you okay?" She doesn't wait for my answer. She steps inside, facing Joe. "Get out. Now. Or I'm calling the police."

Joe glares at her, but Leah doesn't back down. After a long, tense moment, he grabs his jacket and storms out, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he's gone, my legs give out, and I sink to the floor, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. Leah rushes to my side, kneeling next to me, pulling me into a tight hug.

I can't stop crying. It all just comes out, and I feel like I'm drowning. She tries to calm me, whispering reassurances, but I'm breaking apart right in front of her. She doesn't understand—how could she? Leah doesn't know the truth. She doesn't know that my relationship with Joe is fake, that I'm living in a nightmare I can't escape.