The Other Woman

Comfort

TW.

~~~

As I'm laying in our bed, naked and vulnerable, the sound of him unbuckling his belt is all I hear while I'm frozen in place. The sound of the belt and the bed shifting around me is all that is keeping me alert right now because on the inside I feel numb.

He raises me up forcefully by gripping my hips and all I do is lay there and take it. I know better than to fight him on this, and on anything for that matter. It'll be over soon...

But it doesn't feel like it. It feels like hours before he finally finishes up with me. Torture is the only way I can describe what it's like. Torture to my body, torture to my mind, and torture to my spirit.

The sound of him buckling his belt lingers in my ears and as I slowly lift my head up and open my eyes, the first thing I see is his face right above mine.

"I fucking told you to give me what the fuck I want whenever I ask!" He yells at me as his hand snake around my neck and he grips it tightly as I immediately feel the lack of oxygen. "You understand?!" He asks. I try to open my mouth and form words, but they don't come out! I swear I'm trying to speak, I swear I am!

My eyes shoot open and I immediately start trying to catch my breath.

These nightmares drain me completely. I don't know how to get rid of them, but they need to go away soon because I feel like I can't move on when I have the same crippling dream every time I close my eyes.

Finally catching my breath, I slowly lean over to grab my phone from my nightstand so I can check the time. I click the home button and the time pops up.

6:03 PM.

I quickly gather my thoughts and realize I have an appointment with Beyoncé right now, I should've been there 3 minutes ago. Dammit, I'm gonna be so late. I really, really hope there's not a terrible amount of traffic.

Rushing over to my body-length mirror, I make sure I look decent before putting my hair up in a messy bun. All I'm wearing is black leggings and a black hoodie so hopefully Beyoncé doesn't think I'm getting too comfortable around her.

After I look decent enough, I slip on my tan colored uggs and some black shades over my eyes so she can't tell that I've been crying.

My nightmares are so bad that I wake up with tears running down my face. I don't want her to think she has to feel bad for me or feel like she's obligated to comfort me when my burdens shine through.

I grab my purse and slide my phone and wallet in there then grab my car keys as I rush out of my bedroom and towards the front door. I open it and close it behind me then lock it and rush over to my car.

Half an hour later, I finally arrive at Beyoncé's office and calm my heavy breathing before stepping out of the elevator. I spot Marie, her assistant, and go over to her as she flashes me a pearly white smile.

I smile back and stand in front of her desk while anxiously tapping my foot.

"Hi! I had an appointment with her at 6, Marie. I'm super late, I'm so sorry." I tell her with a pout and she chuckles.

"It's okay, Onika. She's still in there. You can go in, but try not to be loud, I think she's on the phone." She explains and I feel a wave of relief rush over me. Thank God, she's still in there. The first thing I'm going to do when she gets off the phone is apologize to her for being so late.