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Dedicated to astridjaneray Her book Virtue and Vanity is one of my favorites

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I caress the cold and smooth metal as I trace the knife with my finger. I slowly rap my fingers around the plastic handle and lift it to examine it closely. The blade catches another ray of sunlight and makes a glare on the wall. When I was a little kid, it made me so happy to spot these glares. It was magical back then. I smile at the memory. With the tiny smile still placed on my lips, I bring the knife to my wrist, to the same spot where I have the scar. I feel the sharp edges touch my skin. I am not scared. I am at peace. It feels strange, this calmness. Everything around me stills except my hand that is moving to make the cut.

As I lift it up to make a split, I hear the doorbell ring. The sound breaks my trans and I drop the knife and step back until my back hits the wall. I am not sure what I was doing? How did I get here? Last thing I remember was crashing on my couch. I am confused. I start trembling unable to remember. Was I sleeping? Was I sleep-walking? Was I aware? If so, How could I do that? How can I be so selfish? How can I leave my mother? What would have happened to her?

Someone rings the bell again and knocks loudly. I swallow and try to pull myself together. I tie my rope and walk to the door and just as I lift my hands to unlock, I recall the night before and freeze. This could be Matt. He could be here to do it all again. I start quivering involuntarily. I take small steps back away from the door. No no no. It can't happen again. I won't let it.

The knocks comes again much louder than the previous one. Whoever was on the other side of the door, must have heard me as I approached the door. They know I am hear. I look around the apartment looking for an escape. There is nowhere to go or hide. I start to panic and I feel myself choke. Just as I am about to have a full on panic attack, a voice speaks from the other side.

"Ms. Green, I am here to deliver a message from Mr. Harris. I have slipped it under your door. Please read. I will be waiting for you outside the apartment".

His voice is professional like he had been train to say just enough words to convey the message. Nothing more. Nothing less. I look down and there is an envelope with my name on it. I stare at it unable to comprehend what's happening. Am I having another episode? Is this real? Did Ethan really send me a letter?

If I am not fantasizing, what is this? More importantly why? Why now? Why today? Why when so many times things are happening? Why is he not here? Why a letter? Shouldn't he be here if he wants me back? Does he still love me? Is it an apologize? Should I forgive him? Can we forget the years or heartbreak? Can we move past what happened earlier today?

I am still staring at the envelope like it holds the key to the universe. I should pick it up and read it. Whatever was in there, it is still written by Ethan. He has made contact after so many years. It is better than nothing. I wipe my hands with the robe I am wearing and pick it up. It says "Ms. Amy Green". Not "Amy" or "Am", like he used to call me. While I open it, I tell myself not to expect anything. Especially anything romantic. After I unfold the letter, the first thing that hits me is Ethan's handwriting. The same handwriting that I found many mornings as soon as I woke up, with messages about the previous night together, about the breakfast that he cooked as I slept in, about the dates in evenings, about the little gifts, flowers or just a simple "Love you". Tears well up my eyes as memory after memory flashes. I hold back from going down the memory lane and read the letter. It says

Ms. Green,

I have a proposition for you. If you are interested to hear me out, a car is waiting for you outside your apartment. He will be there until 10am to take you to my office.

Mr. Harris

I read it another time to check if I missed any personalization. No. There is no Dear or love. It is not even signed Ethan. Its formal and impersonal. Whatever this proposition is, its business. He hasn't miraculously solved the mystery of his hatred and is coming to take me back to his beautiful castle.

I look at the kitchen clock. Its not even 7 now. I should probably get some sleep and some food. Its been hours since I had any of both. But I know I can't do both as my mind races miles per minute with several questions. I don't even know where to start. I sit on the couch and wrap myself with sheets, a hypothetical security blanket. I try to gain some control over my thoughts. Try to compartmentalize and prioritize like a book on mastering your mind said. But I am not able to do it and give up within few minutes. My head hurts. So I get up prepare myself a strong cup of coffee. As I sip my coffee, I am sure of one thing even if I am unable to perceive the rest, I will be seeing Ethan after so many years. I have seen him many times in newspapers and TV when he flaunted women after women, gorgeous, rich and accomplished. I have even googled him on my weaker moments. But this would be the first time I will be seeing him face to face after the divorce.

I switch on the Tv and change it to a lifestyle channel to stop myself from thinking as I get dressed. I hunt down the only designer dress I own. It was one of the many dresses that Ethan gave me. The day Ethan asked me to leave was the last time I was at our home. When he asked me to pack, I never thought we would get divorced. I kept thinking it was just a misunderstanding and it was only temporary. I walked out with only few clothes mostly jeans and pajamas, and some essentials. On the day of our divorce, Ethan gave me a bag of things that I missed to pack. It only had my certificates and things I have collected from childhood. It didn't have any of the gifts he gave me. Not even the Eiffel Tower souvenir we bought during our Honeymoon.

I pulled out the burgundy dress from the box. The dress is still in good condition. This is the dress I wore when Ethan proposed to me. It was a beautiful day and we were strolling in Central Park amazed by the exquisite cherry blossom trees. We walked away from the crowded part and found a single fully bloomed cherry tree. Ethan had been asking weird questions and making me laugh. He asked me if I saw him in my future. I shook my head playfully saying no. He asked again with a devilish grin, if I would move to San Francisco with him. I shook my head laughing since he knew I have already given my notice and searching for a job there. The next question shocked me. It didn't see it coming. He pulled out a jewelry box from his suit pocket and got on one knee and asked me if I would marry him. We had meet only 5 months back. I loved him but wasn't sure how he felt. I was so shocked but I knew without a doubt he was my forever. My "Yes" was a squeak nodding like crazy and smiling with tears of joy rolling down my cheeks. He stood up, slipped the simple gold ring just like the one I always wanted and kissed me.

I pull my hair into a ponytail and apply a little makeup. I had to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I remove my robe and hang it by the shower to get dressed. As I turn to leave the bathroom, something catches my eye in the mirror. In the mirror, I can see hand prints on both sides on my hips. There are few bruises on my arms and a red mark on my shoulder blades. The nasty scars stare at me. I was distracted by Ethan's letter and have completedly forgotten about it. Now when I look at the bruises, I recollect every little detail. I lean forward and hold on to the sink as every second of the ugly memory replays in my mind. I should look away, block the memory but I am not able to stop. Something changes in the room, it gets colder. Its like a haze and then suddenly I feel a presence behind me. I feel it hold my hips. I know its not true. I can see myself in the mirror standing alone. There is nothing behind me. Yet I am not able to move. I feel like I am being restrained. Then I am being raped again. I can feel the intrusion. I can feel the pain. I can smell his stale breath. I can feel his aroused grunts. I am living the nightmare without a clue how to stop it. Soon I feel it letting me go. I don't fall like the last time, thanks to the sink that I have been holding in a death grip. But ones again I have the same feeling of emptiness and hopelessness.

I don't understand what's going on with me. Nothing is making sense. It felt so real. Was it real? I have the same questions but still no answer. Finally, I pull myself together and rush out. As fast as I could I pull the dress over my head. I am so past worrying about the makeup or hair. I need to leave. I can't stay in this place. I feel claustrophobic like the walls are closing in on me. I pickup my hand bag and dash to the kitchen. I swallow two aspirin and burst out to the hallway.

I run down the stairs and make it outside the apartment building. I immediately spot the black town car, its all flashy compared to other beat-ups parked. I compose myself as I reach the car. Inhale. Exhale. I repeat it as I approach the car. There is a man in black suit leaning against it. He is busy with his phone.

"Excuse me", I say. My voice is shaky and I am fidgeting. The man turns and stills like he has seen a ghost. It makes me uncomfortable so I adjust my Cardigan and hope the bruises are hidden behind it.

"I am Amy. Amy Green", I say nervously. I pull out the envelope. My fingers are trembling when I give him the letter. At last, he breaks the stare and looks away. He straighten up, clears his throat and nods at the envelope but does take it back.

"Ms. Green can we leave now?", he asks looking away like he doesn't want to look in mt eyes. I nod and stuff the envelope in the bag. He escorts me to the door and we leave. As we drive away from the apartment complex, I check if there is anything that is following me. And I pray that whatever this proposition that Ethan has to offer takes. me away from here.