Broken Reliance, Renewed Longing

Benjamin looked at me with eager anticipation, like a puppy waiting for a pat from its owner. His eyes were wide, filled with hope as he waited for my reaction. But I remained still, my face an impassive mask, not giving him the satisfaction of engaging with his clumsy attempts at charm.

“Alright,” he said with a sigh, “I suppose the sedatives haven't worn off completely, so I'll just show you.” He moved the object he had been hiding behind his back onto the bed. It was a pair of tickets to a dance theater.

“Your favorite indie band is going on tour and they'll be in town next month. I know how much you love them, so I camped out on the website for days to get these tickets. You’re the most important person to me, Cora. If this doesn’t show how much I care about you, I don’t know what will.”

I remembered that the tickets had gone on sale only the night before. It was clearly a last-minute effort, his minimal attempt to calm my anger. He kissed my forehead and gently said, “Let’s go see them when you’re better.” 

The room was so silent it felt like the world had stopped spinning, the kind of quiet where even the tiniest noise—a pin dropping, for example—would have seemed deafening. Benjamin’s eyes were locked onto me with such intensity, it felt like there was nothing else in the world but me and him. He was completely absorbed in the moment, his gaze unwavering and filled with an almost desperate hope.

Seizing the opportunity, I slowly raised my hand, pretending to gently stroke his cheek as if offering some sort of tender gesture. His eyes sparkled with anticipation and he eagerly leaned in closer, like a well-trained puppy responding to a command.

Then, with a swift motion, I brought my hand down hard. The sharp crack of skin meeting skin echoed through the stillness, a stinging slap that left five bright red fingerprints blazing across his once-perfect face. The impact was so sudden and loud that it seemed to shatter the silence around us. Benjamin’s expression froze in shock, his face marked with the bright red imprints of my hand. He blinked, momentarily stunned, before his face flushed with a mix of rage and confusion. “What the—what is wrong with you?” he shouted, his voice trembling with anger. I met his fury with a cold, unyielding stare, showing no hint of remorse for the scorn I had delivered.

“You’re disgusting! With your skill at distorting the truth, turning black into white and being duplicitous, you’d be a perfect lawyer.” I continued, my anger simmering.  “Do you think two concert tickets will erase the fact that you’ve wronged me? Do you think I’m a fool? Just wait for your invitation to the police station.” My gaze remained cold and unyielding as I continued, “You said it’s for my own good, but it’s actually you blinded by lust, isn’t it? You’re trying to curry favor with the manager, you’re selling me out, using me as a stepping stone so you can climb higher. You’re a complete asshole!” 

I still have a lot of pent-up frustrations, so I might as well let them all out. “And to think that the manager will make things difficult for me, that's ridiculous. Do you really think my whole career could be wrecked by a few words from some lazy girl like her? Like I’m just goofing off and not busting my butt to get where I am now? Do you think that the department head is that dumb, that you see him as a person with such shallow mindset? You disappoint me, Ben.” Benjamin was utterly battered by my relentless barrage of accusations, struggling to find the right words. 

“Is that how you see me? You think I’m using and manipulating you?” His voice wavered with a helpless edge, a stark departure from his usual composed demeanor. He looked at me with eyes wide and pleading, trying to grasp for any shred of sympathy. But I couldn't muster any. To me, his words felt hollow, just more empty reassurances in a sea of broken promises. I had something more pressing on my mind, something that demanded my attention. Without giving his desperate pleas a second thought, I cut him off with a commanding tone. “Give me my medical record.”

The first time I realized how badly I was hurt, everything went into total chaos. People were running around everywhere and the whole place was buzzing with panic. As I was being wheeled into the operating room, the doctor quickly told Benjamin to hang onto my medical record. 

The moment I said it, Benjamin’s face turned sharply. The usual confidence that defined him was replaced with a visible mix of embarrassment and anxiety. He fumbled with the papers, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to hide his growing unease. Watching his reaction, my heart skipped a beat. A deep, unsettling feeling settled in my stomach. Something was definitely wrong and his nervousness only made the sense of impending trouble even stronger.