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Ugly(82)

By:Margaret McHeyzer


“By…” My gosh, this is hard to say. “By…” I start again, trying to say Trent’s name, but I can’t. The humiliation coursing through me is preventing me from saying his name. “By…” I burst into tears. I can’t handle this. I’m not strong enough to tell him, I can’t be…anything.

I’m so weak, so stupid for even trying to make a change in my life. I’m nothing; I’m of no significance to anyone. I’m a waste of air and shouldn’t be alive.

“I’m sorry. I should go,” I say through the thick, strangled sobs. I stand to my feet and so does Dale.

“You’re not going anywhere, Lily. You’ll sit down and tell me what the hell is going on.” He rounds the table and engulfs me in a hug. It’s the first time in years when I’ve needed human contact, I’ve gotten it. He doesn’t suffocate me or drown me in his body, he’s just holding onto me, offering comfort.

I bawl into his chest, my arms tighten around him and I’m left a mess. “I’m sorry,” I keep repeating into Dale’s chest. My sobs eventually dwindle into small hiccups and I finally calm down.

“Tell me what’s been happening,” he probes gently. He’s still holding me. It’s not sexual or sleazy, it’s like a father would hold his daughter when she cries because her first love has broken her heart. He’s a gentleman, and a truly beautiful soul. “It’s okay, Lily. In my office, here at work, it’s safe. No one can hurt you here.” His tone is low and soothing, and I know he means the words he’s speaking.

I let go of my shame, and open my mouth. No, that’s not right, I’m not letting go of my shame, I’m still holding onto that, but I’m risking the consequences by telling Dale what’s been happening. I unwrap my arms from Dale, and step back, giving us some space and room. I look up into his aging eyes, and notice for the first time the wrinkles and dark bags under them. “It’s okay,” he says again and leans back against his desk.

“Trent beat me.”

Dale’s eyes widen and he contorts his mouth, clearly chewing on the inside of his cheek. His hands tighten around the desk and his chest puffs out. “Tell me what happened, Lily.”

I spend the next half hour telling him about the most recent incident which landed me in the hospital, including what happened when we got home a few hours ago. Dale’s been sitting on the edge of his desk, not moving or saying anything. But his face gives everything away, the way his left eye flinches, and his arms strain below his button-up shirt is enough for me to see the anger building up inside of him.

“Please don’t be mad with me,” I say when his jaw tightens and his face morphs into anger.

“With you? Christ, Lily, I’m nowhere near angry with you. I’m mad at myself for being duped by such a heathen and manipulator.”

“You’re not mad with me?” I ask, surprised.

“No.” He takes a deep breath and asks, “Where will you be staying?”

“I was going to ask if I could use the phone, so I can call my friend Shayne.”

“Of course, and if he can’t accommodate you, I have a guest room you’ll be comfortable in.”

I smile at his offer of hospitality, and truthfully, I’m somewhat shocked he’d be willing to accept me into his home. “Shayne’s a girl, and my best friend from years ago. You don’t have to put yourself out. I’m sure there is a shelter close by I could stay in if Shayne can’t help.”

“You’re not staying at a shelter. End of story. Now, when you left, you left like this?” he asks as he gestures toward my body.

“Just me and my diary, nothing else.”

“I’ll organize another uniform for you, and here, take my credit card and go buy some warm clothes.” He takes his wallet out, and offers me his card. But I don’t take it.

“No need, I just need to go to the bank. He’d been controlling our finances, and we have over eighty thousand in the bank. I just need some ID to go and get some money out. But I don’t have any, I’ve left everything back at the apartment.”

“I’d have some here on file from when you first came to work. I can give it to you and take you to the bank if you like?” he offers.

“Yes, please. I need some shoes, and clothes.”

Dale gets up, “I’ll go to the file room, and see what I have for you. But please, use the phone and call your friend.” He leaves me in his office.

Damn it, I don’t have Shayne’s number, it’s in my bag back at the apartment. I pick my diary up and start flicking through it, trying to think of how I can get in contact with Shayne. I remember I wrote it in my diary when she gave it to me. I thumb through the pages until I find it.