One woman's amazing journey to becoming who she was meant to be.
Callie
Chapter One
My boyfriend Rupert perched on the edge of the chesterfield--elbows on his knees, leaning toward the TV. His complete focus was swallowed up by the game--soccer, of course. On the opposite side of the chesterfield, I pacified my longing, my desire with poetry.
Something black caught my eye. Our tabby cat Princess pranced into the living room. She jumped into Ru's lap and began to purr as he rubbed her tummy.
"Ru," I purred. I tried again. Louder this time.
"Aurora, I'm watching," he roared at me without looking away from the screen.
When the game was interrupted by a commercial, I slid over to Ru and ran my fingers through his--
He jerked his head away. "The game's on."
"No, it's not. There's a commercial. You have time for our cat."
"I still love Princess."
"What do you mean? I don't under--."
"I said I don't love you anymore." It was like he was telling me we were out of milk.
Numb then crushed and then enraged, I swung my book back and--.
He caught my wrist. "There's someone else. All you do is read; she knows how to live. She's in. You're out. Go pack."
I stormed out of the living room and slammed the bedroom door. I shoved the closet door aside and it hit the wall with a satisfying thud. Ru's designer shirts, pants, and jackets all hung in a razor-blade line. He just loved expensive things. I tore his clothes from their hangers and tossed them out of the window. The big twirling ball of colour tumbled in the air. Suit jackets landed on trees, ties on telephone lines, and his shirts and pants landed in the garden. It was spring; there was mud. I felt like cackling.
Feeling somewhat vindicated, I filled a suitcase with my books and another one with my clothes. Before I left our bedroom, I hunted through Ru's top dresser drawer and pulled out a lump of cash. He owed me.
A gentleman would have helped me navigate my suitcase out of the apartment. He didn't lift a finger. My body was shaking as I navigated the suitcase down the corridor to the elevator and down to the lobby. A set of full-length mirrors by the door in the lobby revealed that my mascara had made raccoon eyes, but I didn't care--well, not that much.
I left the apartment building, heading to...
Some may have turned to their family for support. I didn't. There had been a misunderstanding, a difference of opinion, mistaken assumptions. I'd learned that I couldn't rely on them. I'm sure I disappointed them as well. I promised myself that I would never put myself or them in that situation again. I'm trying to forgive them; I hope they are trying to forgive me. It happened long ago. And I try not to dwell on those memories.
Friends? All of them were Rupert's. I'd worked as his personal assistant. My entire life had been all tangled up in his. He'd defined me. Without him, who was I?
I wrestled with that question as I stepped into the elevator, went down to the lobby, and out onto the street. Rain started to pour. I raced to the bus shelter and slumped on the bench. No bus in sight, I waited for the next chapter of my life to begin.
Sunday, July 17
Chapter One: No job... No home... No boyfriend... No life... What would you do? What does Aurora do?
Callie
