The Last Thorn

8. The Dawn

Florence is scrolling through the ads on her computer. There are many ads, but some of the flats seem habitable. Even though she celebrated and told everyone yesterday, she’s not sure whether it was a promotion that Alex was talking about, but now she sure hopes so.

No matter- promotion or not- she’ll have to go with a chamber sized flat. She finds some options that are still overpriced, but at least they don’t seem like they’re pest infested. One of them is actually in the building next to this one. She’ll take a look at it next thing tomorrow. She’d still be able to see Eugene multiple times a week.

There’s a knock on the door and it opens.

“Florence? Do you have a minute?” Eugene asks.The look on his face is very serious.

“Yeah, come on in,” she says and shows him to sit down on the bed, “What’s up?”

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re about to do,” Eugene says carefully.

Florence gets defensive, “Yeah, I know, Eugene. I’m looking at flat ads. I have to live somewhere, don’t I?”

Eugene frowns. He doesn’t want it to go this way. “Flo, don’t be like this. You know what I mean. It’s just you probably don’t realize how much money all of this actually costs” he says, as he shows around the room.

“Oh I know alright. I know how money works, Eugene. If you don’t want Garrett to move in, don’t put me in the middle in all of this” she says irritated.

The atmosphere in the room gets boiling hot. Eugene clenches his wrists. “It has nothing to do with me and Garrett!” he exclaims. “Why would I want to sneak around his rented place all the time if I’ve got my own? I was just being a good friend to a person who can’t get her own life together for crying out loud.”

Florence doesn’t say anything. It was totally different to hear from Garrett whom she doesn’t care about, than from her friend. Eugene isn’t planning to stop the rent any time soon.

“Your salary is ridiculously small, because you can’t commit to a single job for more than a year. What have you been working as so far? Oh, I remember, a cosmetologist, a consultant at that boutique you hated, a librarian and now you’re a programmer who dreams to become a huge writer. When was the last time you wrote a single word for that book great book of yours, huh?”

Eugene doesn’t care how hurtful it’s for Florence to hear all of this. It’s like he’s on a killing spree. The more he hurts, the more he’s willing to say. All of these thoughts have been suppressed inside for years. It’s now the time he’ll say it all, because he’s angry at Florence. She attacked him first when she mentioned his fear of getting married and having a rather peaceful life.

“You want to know what I think about your plans? They’re ridiculous. You’re gonna throw everything you’ve done for the next person that’ll smile towards you anyway. You’re gonna get obsessed and codependent again. And do you want to know what else I find ridiculous? You can’t even commit to which gender you’re attracted to.”

 Florence is in the rage. If she wasn’t better than this, she’d turn his head into a punching bag. “Don’t you think it’s ironic that YOU are telling me about psychological issues? What about you, mister? How about those drunk cries about not wanting to grow up? Actually, it has nothing to do with me. You were actually keeping me close to you as an excuse to behave like a teenager. All those parties you’re always doing “for me” are actually for you,’’ she says, disgusted.

A realization dawns upon herself. ‘’God, how couldn’t I see that he was using me before?” she asks herself.

Florence’s face lights up. It’s like she suddenly sees everything clearly. It’s bittersweet, but she feels like she’s finally free. “Wait, it actually makes sense,” she says as she straightens up in the chair. Now she recalls many little details which put the puzzle pieces together perfectly, ” You just don’t want to grow up, but you need an excuse, so you don’t face the problem. You were actually enjoying that you’ve got someone who’s struggling, so is always ready to go out with you and party like an idiot.”

Eugene looks away from her. It’s nonsense. “Don’t reflect your problems on me. It’s not my fault that you prefer to wash your problems down with an alcohol. I was just keeping an eye on you, because I don’t want you to go back to your family,” he says.

“Don’t you dare making this about my family. My mom is amazing and it’s not her fault that dad was like that,” Florence roars.

“Like what, Flo? Oh, do you mean- a killer?” he laughs sourly.

“Don’t even think about bringing Cassie into this,” Florence warns with angry tears in her eyes.

“Can’t you see that you’re low-key attracted to jerks, no matter men or women, because your father was like that? Can’t you see that you’re doing the same thing your mom was doing? You’re turning into an alcoholic, Flo. You chugged tequila shots like it was nothing. And what were you thinking yesterday? Lying to  Marco that you’re going home. You weren’t home at when we came back, that’s for sure. It was 3 am, Flo. I bet you were asleep somewhere drunk without a care in the world. You know what, I decided yesterday that I’m done worrying about you. It’s not worth it, and I was right. I heard that you came into your room at 5 am.“

“I’m doing as good as I can,” she says and clears a throat, “not everyone is lucky enough to grow up as the only child and being pampered and looked after for all their lives.”

Eugene’s face is serious and stiffens. “I want you gone by Friday. Fridays are my happy days,” he says as he stands up and closes the door behind him.  

Florence closes the tab which the flat was on angrily. She never wants to see Eugene's face ever again. How dare he speak to her like that? She has done nothing wrong! She's been a victim all her life, from childhood to right now. 

Florence fumes from anger. She wants to tear the whole apartment down. She wants to scream and run after Eugene, and kick him. God, she's never been so angry in her life. She wants to burn all the bridges with Eugene, because she can't ever forgive such a betrayal.

"There are some bridges that, once burnt, are never rebuilt," she thinks.