There are a few more toasts to my health, to Sal’s, to our future life together. Finally the spotlight moves off us, and the guests start to mill around the room, breaking off into small conversational groups.
Sal is still next to me, though. I need to get away. I lean over and tell him I’m going to the ladies’, then I hightail it out of the room, tears choking me all the way out.
Going to the ladies’ room will be too obvious; if Sal realizes I’ve been gone too long, it’s the first place he’ll look. So I head the other direction and make my way to the back part of the restaurant. There’s a door that says EMPLOYEES ONLY; I glance around and see no one nearby, so I push it open and head into the big, dark room beyond it. It’s a storage room of some kind, with shelves covered with supplies—bags of flour, pots and pans, canned goods, bottles. Surely nobody will look for me here.
My breath is catching in my chest, trying to make sobs, but I won’t let it as I make my way as far back into the room as I can. Finally I reach the back wall. I let myself slide down to the floor, where I put my head in my hands and finally let it all out in wrenching, tearing, painful sobs that make my chest hurt.
It’s a full-on ugly cry, definitely not the kind of thing you want anybody witnessing. It’s so bad, in fact, I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to stop.
I’ve lost control of my emotions; I’ve lost control of my life. All I wanted was a little bakery to call my own, and now I’m stuck with an abusive boyfriend who won’t let me out from under his thumb.
Fiancé, I correct myself. Apparently he’s your fiancé. I look down at the diamond on my hand. It’s huge, reflecting the faint light in the room, trying to twinkle. I can’t be happy about it. I can’t be happy about any of this. All I can do is cry.
There’s a faint sound suddenly, and I freeze. Is somebody in here with me? I picture rats, and the idea makes me even more nauseated than I was. I try to drag back the sob that’s in the process of escaping from my mouth. There’s another sound, and the light in the room shifts. Somebody’s opened the door where I came in.
Dammit. Did they follow me? Did Sal send somebody after me? My hands start to shake. I won’t go back to that room where everybody can see what Sal’s announcement has done to me. Won’t let them see that I’ve been crying. I shrink back against the wall as far as I can.
“Sarah?” The voice is quiet. I can tell it’s a man, but I can’t tell who. I press my hand against my mouth, biting my finger to keep my sobs under control. Then a dark shadow approaches and fills the space between the shelves in front of me. “Sarah?” he says again.
It’s Nick.
“Oh my God.” I leap up from the floor and throw myself at him. I’ve got no pride left; I can’t afford it. “Nick.” The sobbing starts again, and I’m not even embarrassed, not really. But my heartbeat has sped up, and suddenly my breath is rasping in my throat. I feel like I might be about to explode. “Nick, please.”
He returns my embrace, his arms gentle around me. How is he part of this mess, where all these men do nothing but exert control whatever way they can? How is it that he and Sal have the same job, the same boss? I can’t get my head around it.
His voice is still gentle, and he cups the back of my head with one hand. “Shhh, Sarah. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not. It’s not okay. It’ll never be okay.” I struggle to breathe. “I can’t marry him, Nick. I never said I would. He never even asked me—he just…” I stop, trying to catch my breath.
“Slow down,” he says quietly. “You’re hyperventilating. I think you’re having a panic attack.”
I nod and try to get myself back under control. “Deep breath,” he says. “Deep breath.”
Finally my breathing eases back to a more normal rate. I clench my fists against Nick’s chest and look up into his face. His eyes are glittering in the dim light. “I can’t marry Sal. I just can’t. I don’t want to. He’s… He hits me, Nick. I can’t live with that. Help me. Can you help me?”
His hands tighten on my arms, and I see his mouth press into a hard line. “Come with me. Right now. We’ll get the hell out of here. I’ll take you to my place. You can stay there. Sal won’t know where you are, and he won’t be able to force you to do anything. I promise.”
I nod, scrubbing my hands over my cheeks to wipe away the tears. I have to look horrible, my nose running, eyes red and swollen. But Nick’s looking down at me like there’s nothing wrong at all, and what I can see of his expression is gentle, almost caring.