Waiting

a short story
by Astor W. Heinemann

Waking up to the sound of hysterical banging on the door was not her idea of a good morning and combined with that the memories from the previous night that crowded her head as soon as she opened her eyes, even before she could focus them around the room or even know what was going on, conspired to complete what promised to be a horrendous day. She rubbed her eyes and sat up at the edge of the bed resting her elbows on her knees. The wrinkled white bed sheet was damp with what she initially feared was vomit or blood but turned out to be sweat. More banging on the front door and some muffled calls from a male voice.

"Go away, I don't ever want to see you again" she yelled back at the door. The banging continued and the man said "Open up, dammit. Open up right this second". "Just go, leave me alone!". She laid back on the bed and covered herself with the sheets as if hiding under there would make it all disappear, but the man persisted, now with a slowly softening tone. "Please, darling, open the door, I want to see you, I want to talk to you", and she peeked at the door with just one eye. She could already feel the hardened coating that was applied to her heart overnight crack and slowly crumble to dust. It always happened and she knew she was powerless over his sweet talk and apologetic rhetoric.

Trying to force herself against what her heart truly wanted, she attempted to hold back the impulse to run to the door, even a small spasm of movement and a flutter of the bed sheets as her body wanted to get up, she stayed in bed. "It's not gonna work this time, just leave", she said, but even as the words left her mouth she knew she was lying to the man and to herself. "Please, baby, just let me see you, I'm sorry", and that was that.

She got up and on the way to the door looked at her naked body in the mirror, dried blood around her lips and down her neck, went back to cover herself with the damp bed sheet. She hesitated and as if it had a mind of its own, her hand sprang up and unlocked the door.

The man said he'd been waiting all night outside her door, waiting for her to get some rest so she'd have a cool head to discuss the problems. But she was still very angry, if by now at least willing to see him. The woman coldly walked back to bed, without looking at the man, and sat down looking away at a blank wall. "You promised this wouldn't happen again, how can I ever trust you?", "I didn't mean to, I just couldn't control myself, I love you too much".

As she turned her head to look at him, images of the previous night, how the little spherical fish bowl flew by her hitting that stranger that was trying to pick her up at the bar, how it smashed his face, water all over, sharp cracked glass exploding in all directions and how that little piece went to her lower lip like a bullet. The stranger hit the floor unconscious, the man grabbed her arm violently and they both ran away into the night. They were long gone by the time the EMTs and the law arrived.

Looking into his eyes, she could see the man's pain at the thought of losing her. He hung his head down in shame and he curled up on the floor at her feet begging for forgiveness. "This crazy love made me do it, why can't all those people just leave us alone!" She tried to look away, but she started crying as she knew his heart was hers and hers was his. She stroke his hair and pulled his head up to her lap, "what am I gonna do with you, Tom?" He spread his arms around her waist and held on tight.

Ende.