"I don’t know why I even bother," Jon huffs as he gets out of bed and storms out of the room.
I lie still as can be, almost frozen by his words. Part of me wants to call him back and do whatever he wants to make him happy. Another part wonders why it is so wrong to not feel good and how Jon can be annoyed at me for it. I feel a sense of shame inside, thinking that there must be something wrong with me that would make Jon act so cold. I feel an overwhelming sense of inadequacy until my exhaustion takes over, and I fall asleep.
I wake up again maybe three hours later to the sound of noise coming from the front room. Putting on my robe, I slowly make my way out of the bedroom to see what all of the noise is. The movement makes me feel weak. I have yet to eat or drink anything and am most likely dehydrated. The sound of gunfire from the television is a roar as I approach the front room. When I get there, I see Jon and a neighbor have set up a video game system in the living room and are playing what looks like a war game.
Our neighbor, a young guy who lives on the first floor sees me walk in. "Oh man, did we wake you?"
I look at Jon, my brows furrowed. I just do not understand what this guy is doing in our apartment. I know none of the video game stuff is ours. Jon had sold everything he had when he was trying to figure out a way to keep his car. Jon shrugs at me and looks back at the TV. Our neighbor sees my confusion and offers to leave. I wave him off and walk over to the kitchen to get some crackers and a glass of water before returning to bed. With the door closed and the small TV in our room on, I can’t hear the noise from the front room anymore. I nibble on my crackers and sip my water, trying my best to finish them before I fall back asleep.
It’s dark outside when I wake again, and the apartment is quiet. My appetite has improved so I make my way to the kitchen to make something. The front room is dark, and there is no sign of Jon. I glance over to the pile of my things on the floor by the door and see that my keys are also gone. He had taken my car again. We had never discussed the dent, and now he is gone again. I wonder how Jon would react if I told him I did not want him using my car unless he checked with me first. I do not think he would react well to that, but it bothers me so much that he keeps taking it without asking.
Exhausted from the activity, I retreat back to our room to sleep. When my alarm clock goes off the next morning, I still feel rough but well enough to go to work. I always hate calling in sick and am already feeling guilty for missing the previous day. When I go to shower I realize Jon is not in bed. I rush into the front room to see if maybe he’s sleeping on the sofa. He isn’t.
Opening the door to our apartment, I ignore the cold blast of air and rush to the landing to see if my car is in its spot. It’s not. Even if I had wanted to go to work, I can’t. I am too stunned that he had not come home to react immediately. I call my office manager and lie, saying I am still not feeling well enough to come back and send a text message to Nikita. I get two texts messages back, one from my manager letting me know I can take all the time I need and another from Nikita that is just a frown face.
This is bullshit, and there is no way I can ignore it. This can affect my job and being able to pay our bills. I cannot help but be concerned as well. What if he had been in an accident and is hurt somewhere? Slumping onto our bed, I go back and forth between whether I should call him