Taking Chances

Chapter 2

The Monday morning sun split the greyness that saturated the spare bedroom. A groan came from a lump under a blanket on the bed. Curled up in a ball under that blanket, was Bec. She knew she had to get up and get on with the day's chore: have it out with Phil, but the vodka courage was gone.

Bec heard her sister, Jen, burst out of the other bedroom, "I'm going to be late for work." The sound of curtains being flung open soon followed.

Bec opened the bedroom door and winced at the sunlight. Shouldn't have had so much wine, or maybe it was the vodka?

Jen was adding coffee grounds to the coffee-maker, then flicked on the switch. "Help yourself to whatever but don't make a mess. I'll be back around five," said Jen with a piece of toast dangling from her mouth.

Bec felt ashamed of herself and her hangover. "Wait," she said. "About last night..."

Jen grabbed her teacher's bag and moved toward the door. "Don't worry about it."

"No, I was angry. I didn't mean all of what I said."

Jen's free hand went to her hip. "I know what you meant. You're my sister, and I forgive you. You can stay as long as you need to."

Somehow Jen's nonchalant attitude made Bec feel even worse. How did her life jump the rails like this? She bit her bottom lip but couldn't meet Jen's gaze.

Jen opened the door to leave, then stopped. Over her shoulder she said, "You have to call Phil and end it properly. For your own sake." She closed the door and was gone.

Bec's head throbbed. She knew Jen was right.

The front door banged open, making Bec jump with fright. "Forgot my phone!" Jen called with a red blush upon her cheeks. Slam! Out she went, rushing off again as always.

Relax. Nothing to worry about here, Bec chided herself as she downed a cup of coffee. She went into the bathroom and, stripping off, noticed her reflection in the mirror. Mercifully, the swelling around her eye had gone down.

She pinched at her hips and thighs. Phil always said she should 'get some work done' there. Now, Bec looked at herself as a new woman. She smiled in what seemed like the first time in six months. Phil could go to hell for all she cared. She was out. Done. Finished with him and his manipulative ways. She was free to be who she really was: Rebecca Williams, and no one was going to tell her how to live her life.

With new found freedom warming her heart, she stepped into the shower before the water had warmed up letting the cold take her breath away. It felt good and she fought to control her breathing as the water rushed over her sensitive areas. Her thick, blonde, shoulder-length hair flattened against her neck. Gathering it up, she began massaging her hair with a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. Perhaps I'll go back to brunette. The hot water came through and Bec darted backwards out of the shower spray. She laughed out loud, excited by the physical sensation and emotional freedom she had found.

Fifteen minutes later, Bec emerged refreshed, clean, and wrapped in a towel. She went through to the kitchen, checked her phone, then put it down. Still nothing from Phil. Should I call now? Looking at the clock, she saw it was eleven-thirty. Phil would be busy with work and in no mood to be disturbed. Better to wait until twelve-thirty, when he had lunch

She toasted a piece of bread, looked for Turkish feta cheese, but found only sliced. Guess they don't have real cheese in the boonies.