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She had been such a fool.

Robbie should have never put her in that position, Zinnia knew. And if he had carried out his plan, Zinnia would have been nothing more to Robbie than a name in his past. 

Just letters.

Robbie would have taken everything she had, used her up, then tossed her aside as he went hunting for another sucker to support his sorry butt. No feelings of remorse, kindness, or even love for her. 

Just six letters strewn together into a first name. Zinnia. His meal ticket. The label that separated her from the rest of the herd. For a while, anyway. Zinnia. His mistress. His fiancé. His wife. His mark. His patsy.

His lay.

And they had the nerve to want to stick her with Robbie's funeral tab!

She'd fled town like a cat with a tail wrapped in rags and doused in kerosene.

Zinnia had appeared on Clancy's doorstep. She'd had no where else to go. No one else to turn to. Her parents were long dead, and Clancy was her only living relative. He was her father's older brother.

The man was ancient, but he had agreed to let her stay.

No more dark thoughts, she chided herself.

Tonight was special. This was Zinnia's twenty-sixth birthday. She was determined to celebrate, to mark the occasion as a new chapter in her life – a happier chapter. A stronger chapter. A thank-you-God-I'm-still-kickin' chapter.

So, she caught a bus and rode it to the crossroads. From there, she'd hitched a ride into town. She took the handful of trinkets and the one cheap dress that Robbie had bought her and burned them out in the back yard. They went up in a ball of black smoke and orange flames. 

And Zinnia felt good. 

Cleansed, somehow.

Clancy was shocked at such waste.

"Girl's lost her mind," he had muttered all afternoon. "That dress cost good money."

Zinnia wanted a totally new fresh start.

***

But Clancy would never understand. Those things were objects of her past, and this symbolic destruction was another baby step toward wholeness. Besides, Zinnia thought, Clancy was probably afraid she'd blow herself up. 

She had been heavy-handed with the gasoline, and more than once Clancy had mentioned the stuff would catch fire like crazy.

But it had been fun to watch it all go up in smoke.

It was a dress Robbie had bought her and insisted that she wear when she was at home – with no bra and panties. She'd wanted to buck Robbie on this, but he got so furious that she was afraid he'd physically hurt her. 

If a fight escalated, there'd be lots of violence on Robbie's part. Then came the perfuse apologies, and all was forgiven. Robbie could charm the socks off her, Zinnia remembered.

So many bad, bad memories.

When money had gotten tight, and her job did not bring home enough money to pay the rent, Robbie demanded she take to the streets to augment her income.

Zinnia had been mortified. She begged Robbie to go out and find honest work.

"Ain't no decent jobs these days, Zin. You know that. Ev'rybody's hurtin'. We gotta do what we gotta do to survive. I ain't the jealous type. If it puts food on the table, well, I guess, I'll have to learn to share my baby. And be sure to wear your special dress.

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