This project is coming along nicely, and tonight I was given a boost in my personal stakes in it. I’ll be cleaning it up and adding more details for its inclusion in Hello.
He walked in and smiled. “Hello, dahlin,” he said, and invaded my space by sitting at the desk.
“Hey,” I replied casually and, continued to read through blogs I follow and text a friend. “You have fun?”
“Oh, yes,” he slurred slightly. He lit a cigarette and got comfortable. Maybe the chair will tip over, I thought. He proceeded to tell me about heading out tomorrow for the boat races (Yes! A night without worrying about him coming home tanked!) We talked about sending our daughter money in morning. How much, etc. She’d been gone a week and managed to blow through over $200. Our son came down and required constant redirection to go up to bed. Finally he listened.
Then, it started. The sexual verbal aggression.
“Don’t you have some nice tits,” he said.
I looked down at the t-shirt and hoodie covering me to my neck. “Thanks,” I said and kept reading. My phone whistled and I itched to answer the text. I’ve learned not to make eye contact with him when he’s like this; it’s taken as an invitation.
“I bet I’ve played with them more than anyone else,” he said with pride. “I could play with them til the sun comes up.”
On the inside I’m screaming “Go the fuck to bed!” On the outside I just agreed. “Yup, you have.” I kept my tone casual, light. No need to encourage him. He’s got plenty of liquid courage flowing through him as it is.
“You should come with me to the races. We could have some good old fashioned sex,” he flirted.
“No, that’s okay. I gotta stay here with Bub,” I said.
“Aw, come on, babe. We’d have a good time.”
From there I pulled out all the stops. My period. I hate boats. He’s an asshole (inside voice). Who will feed the cats, even. Oh, I used everything in my arsenal. No way was I going for the night on a boat with him. Hell with that. Another text came in.
He got more insistent from there. The sex would be great, he wouldn’t drink too much so he could get me off, etc. I don’t deserve to be treated like that, and it’s happening on a more frequent basis. Pretty bad I can tell when he’s got laid based on how he treats me when he drinks. Clearly, its been awhile. If he had made a move to touch me I’d have cracked the laptop over his head.
I finally let out a breath when he went upstairs. The whole exchange took about 10 minutes. I grabbed my cell and replied to the 2 texts and explained in almost no detail what happened. 45 minutes later, I feel a bit better.
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