Seraphine

twenty seven

Seraphine shakes her head to combat her thoughts, but they keep coming. Telling her how he's not a good man, how she deserves better than this, how she should run, run as fast and as far away as she can before he kills her. 

She blows out a breath, letting the cool air bounce off her hand and flush her hot, wet cheeks. She closes her eyes and stands there in silence for a moment, not breathing. 

Once she runs out of air, she drops her hand and sucks in a large breath, feeling her lungs expand gratefully. Her chest rises and falls, and she stares at it, focusing on the movement until her breathing and shaking is under control. 

Seraphine straightens, reaches over to flush the toilet, and rinses her wrists under cold water. 

"I have everything under control." She says confidently, pressing her now cold fingers to her eyes, hissing through the pain that spears through her head when she makes contact with her black eye.

She uses the pain to ground herself, bring herself back to the reality of the situation: Derek's not going to kill her, because she's going to be an obedient girlfriend and get her shit together. 

Seraphine wipes away the rest of the evidence that she was crying, smiles to herself in the mirror, and pulls open the door. 

"Derek, I was wondering--" 

"You got an email from your professor, Seraphine. I'll see you later." Derek huffs as he brushes past her, shoving her shoulder with his and making her stumble back into the bathroom. 

"What? Wait--" the door slams shut, and he's gone. Her arm is still outstretched as the silence falls over her, and she blinks before slowly letting her arm fall back to her side. 

An email? I just met with all of them, what could they possibly want?

She power walks to the kitchen, wanting to read over the email and then call Derek to reassure him that everything's fine, he has absolutely nothing to worry about. 

Seraphine grabs her phone, which has been flipped over, and opens it. Derek requested when they first got together that she never have a passcode on her phone so he can easily access it. She never minded, because she never had something to hide. 

Do I have something to hide now? 

Her fingers are shaking as she taps the email app, opening it. There are a few unread from over the weekend--a robbery happened on campus, a reminder from her schools' platform that she had a couple assignments due. But the one at the top is from Dr. Michaels. 

She clicks on it, holding her breath. 

Seraphine, 

I realized I never gave you my task: I simply wish for you to search for an internship. I noticed, when going through your academic progress, that you haven't had one in your college career. Internships are incredibly important, especially with your ambition of becoming a counselor.

I will have you write up an essay once you're finished with the internship, but for now, just look around and report back to me your findings. 

I wanted to apologize for my actions today. I stepped out of line; we all did. Please forgive us. 

Sincerely, 

Dr. Nico Michaels, Dr. Luca Reeves, Dr. Damien Brummer, Dr. Enzo Wren. 

Take care of yourself, Seraphine.

Seraphine takes a shaky breath and exits out of the app, opening her contacts and clicking on Derek's name.

Her anxiety rises as it rings once, twice, three times. 

Then, a beep. 

Seraphine is frozen, her next breath getting caught in her throat. 

Why isn't he answering me? 

Her fingers shake as she taps his name again, and again, and again.

He doesn't pick up. 

"Please, Derek," she begs into the empty apartment, fear now swirling in her stomach. She wants so desperately to explain herself to her boyfriend, to tell him that--

What would I even tell him? 

Seraphine presses her palms to her eyes and sobs. She feels her perfect weekend slipping away from her, her perfect boyfriend sliding through her fingers like the sand in an hourglass, the minutes ticking away. 

When Derek comes back two hours later, Seraphine is passed out on the couch, her phone still clutched in her hands. 

He didn't buy her chocolate.