The last straw
POV: Andie Hackett
I was in the midst of cutting a key when the sound of screeching tires pierced the air. A car hurtled toward my store, mounted the pavement, and, in a split second, I knew it would crash through the glass front.
Instinctively, I ducked behind the counter as the window shattered. The deafening noise filled the air, shards of glass exploding everywhere, while my heart pounded in disbelief.
I heard a car door open and feet pounding away from the store. I knew exactly who this was. This was Kyle’s way of punishing me, and he wouldn’t stop until I was ruined or dead. Last week, a rock was thrown through the storefront, and although I was insured, I still had to pay the excess. Replacing the window cost me a pretty penny.
Even though I told the cops about Kyle, I couldn’t prove it was him, and there were no eyewitnesses.
I had the worst luck with men and should resign myself to celibacy.
God, I wish I never met Kyle. If only I had known what he was, I would have run a mile. He came into the store wanting a key cut, and I was struck by his good looks and charm, agreeing to dinner in five minutes flat—my first mistake. Especially as my previous relationship had been an absolute shit show, a man so jealous that he accused me constantly of being unfaithful, and for over a year, I stayed away from the opposite sex, declining all and any propositions until Kyle came along.
It didn’t take him long to move in with me. First, he left a toothbrush, then a few items of clothing, and before I knew it, he was living there permanently. That was my second mistake. Of course, I had the chat. If he wanted to live with me, he had to pay half the rent and share all costs.
Initially, it was great, but then little things started annoying me, specifically his odd hours of work and his inability to lift a finger or even take the trash out. He became controlling, and when I broached the subject, he started treating me differently, criticizing and belittling me. I knew I had to end it, but his irascible temper made me weary.
One evening, I unzipped his gym bag, intending to throw his sports clothes into the wash. Instead, I found it filled with baggies of white powder. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were, and that was the last straw. He was a dealer and likely a user, too.
The shock of this discovery was like a physical blow, cementing the feelings of distrust. Maybe I’d been a little rash, but I called the cops, thinking this was an easy way to get him out of my life. The cops already had him on their radar, and I thought they’d arrest him, and I’d be free, but it didn’t work out that way.
He didn’t come home that night as though he had a sixth sense. Changing the locks, I left his clothes with the doorman, which I knew would piss him off, but I never expected him to go to such extremes.
“Oh my god, Andie. Are you okay?” Sandra from the florist shouted anxiously.
Dusting the glass off me, I stood up. “I’m okay,” I said, shell-shocked and shaking as I viewed the damage. The insurance had gone up exponentially after the last claim, and I couldn’t afford the excess. I was a self-employed locksmith, not a high-end earner.
“Thank god for that. I called the police, but I couldn’t get a good look at the driver. He was wearing a hoodie and kept his head down. Do you think…” she trailed off when I nodded. “What are you going to do?”
I shrugged. All I wanted to do was sit and cry. I thought after he threw the stone through the window, it would stop, but now I knew Kyle would never stop until he ruined me completely or worse. There was nothing left for me here.
“I’m done, Sandra,” I said, my chin wobbling.
She bit her lip and shook her head sadly. “I’m here for you, and if there’s anything I can do, say the word.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Do you think you can store a couple of boxes?”
