Zara
I wake up before the alarm. For a few seconds, I don't move. I lie there staring at the ceiling, my body exhausted physically and mentally after a restless night. I shift slightly and pain shoots through my ribs, and suddenly the memories come back all at once.
The bar. The man. The room. Mr. Carter.
I push the thoughts away immediately, afraid if I walk down that path, I might not stop.
I force myself to sit up, my muscles protest, stiff and sore. When my feet touch the floor, a dull ache spreads through my body like a warning. I ignore it.
The bathroom light is too bright when I flip it on. I take a quick shower and finally get the courage to look at myself.
I sit in front of my small dressing table and for a moment, I just stare at my reflection. The bruises are worse than I thought.
A dark purple bloom spreads across the side of my jaw, fading into a sickly yellow near my cheekbone. There is another along my collarbone and a faint shadow on my temple.
I tilt my head lightly. Yeah, concealer is going to have a hard time with this one.
"Well, that's a terrible idea." Callie's voice come from the doorway behind me.
I glance at her through the mirror. She stands by the doorway with her arms folded across her chest, wearing one of my oversized t-shirts and looking like she hadn't slept at all.
"You're not seriously getting ready for work," she says.
I pick up my concealer and start dabbing it under my eye.
"Yes, I am."
"Zara." She groans loudly.
"What?"
"You were almost assaulted last night."
"I know."
"And you're bruised."
"I noticed."
I keep blending the concealer. It helps a little but not enough. Callie pushes off the doorway and walks into the room.
"You shouldn't be doing this. Don't go to work, take some time to yourself I'm sure the manager would understand."
"I can't just not go."
"Why?"
I set the concealer down and finally turn to face her.
"Because, my problems won't magically disappear just because I was almost assaulted."
The words sound colder out loud than they did in my head. Callie flinches.
I continue before she could argue.
"Bills still exist. Rent still exists. Life still goes on." She shakes her head slowly.
"You should be resting."
"I'll rest later.
"You should be angry."
"I am."
"You should be−"
"Callie."
She stops talking. For a moment the two of us just stare at each other. I soften my tone slightly.
"Life doesn't stop just because something bad happened."
She sighs heavily.
"You're unbelievable."
"I've been told." She rubs her face.
"You're going to regret this."
"Probably."
She looks like she wants to argue more, but she finally gives up. I return to the mirror.
The concealer is doing its best, but the bruise on my jaw is stubborn. I try layering foundation.
Still visible. Great.
I grab a slightly darker shade and blend it carefully. Better.
Not perfect, but passable.
"You know," Callie says quietly from my bed, "you don't always have to be strong."
I pause for half a second, then continue blending.
"I'm not being strong." She gives me a look.
"Yes, you are." I cap the makeup and look at her.
"Well," I say, "it's working so far."
"Your car was brought by in the morning. When you're done getting dressed, despite me being against it, don't forget to take your coffee with you. I'll see you later."
She walks over and hugs me from behind, lingering for a beat.
"You know I love you, right?" she murmurs.
"I know, I love you too."
"Take care, okay." I nod.
She takes her bag and after one final worried look, she leaves. I finish up and with one deep breath, leave for work.
⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎
The drive to the hotel feels longer than usual. Morning traffic crawls along the streets, horns occasionally breaking the quiet rhythm of engine tires and asphalt.
I keep both hands firmly on the steering wheel. My ribs still ache every time I inhale too deeply. I ignore that too.
Maybe Callie was right, I should have rested. But resting means thinking and thinking means remembering. I am not ready for that.
The hotel comes to view ahead of me, tall and polished. I park in the staff parking lot and sit in my car for a moment, just breathing.
Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. I grab my bag and step out.
The secretary in the lobby looks surprised when I walk in.
"Zara," she says, "Mr. Barr asked to see you."
Of course he did.
"Come in."
Mr. Barr sits behind his desk, glasses perched low on his nose as he reviews a stack of papers. He looks up when I enter.
His eyes linger briefly on my face, on the barely covered bruises then he sighs.
"Miss Kyle, please sit."
Something in his tone makes my stomach tighten. He folds his hands neatly on the desk.
"I'm afraid we have a problem."
My chest tightens further.
"What kind of problem?"
He clears his throat.
"We've been doing our best to get to the bottom of what happened yesterday. The man from yesterday claims that you came onto him."
The words don't register at first.
"I'm sorry," I say slowly. "What?"
"He said you seduced him."
"I heard what you said I'm just...why? I didn't..."
My brain struggles to process what he has just said.
"You can't possibly believe that." I turn to him, my anger spiking. He avoids my eyes.
"This isn't about belief, Miss Kyle, it's about procedure."
"What procedure?" my voice tightens. "I didn't seduce him; he tried to rape me and the bruises on my face are a clear indication he was forcing himself on me. End of story."
"I understand your position."
"No, you don't. I got away with my life, barely and you're sitting there telling me that I seduced the guy."
He sighs.
"Until the investigation concludes, you are indefinitely suspended from work."
The words hit harder than the bruises.
"Suspended?"
"Yes."
My throat feels dry.
"I didn't do anything wrong. I need this job."
"I'm sorry," he says again, but his voice sounds distant. "This is standard protocol."
"Some standard protocol. You're supposed to take care of one of your own, your staff. And now you're suspending me because of some false claims?"
"It is just suspension. The hotel's reputation is at stake. It is the only thing I can do. My hands are tied."
Anger flares briefly in my chest.
"Your hands are tied? I'm the one who is getting suspended. So, he attacks me and I lose my job?"
"No one is saying you were attacked."
I stare at him.
"You're right," I said quietly. No one was saying it.
He adjusts the papers on his desk.
"The suspension is effective immediately."
I stand slowly. My legs feel strangely unsteady.
"Understood."
I turn and walk out of the office.
I don't go home. Instead, I get into my car and drive. I don't have any particular destination in mind. I just drive.
Past traffic lights. Past coffee shops. Past people going about their perfectly normal lives. Eventually, I end up at a small park near the edge of downtown.
I park and step out. The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of wet grass. A narrow path wounds around a small pond in the centre of the park.
I find an empty bench facing the water and sit down. Ducks drift lazily across the surface. For a long time, I just watch them.
My mind replays the morning. Mr. Barr's words. Indefinitely suspended. The accusation. Seduced him.
The unfairness of it presses against my chest like a weight. Tears well in my eyes and I look up, blinking them back.
What am I supposed to do now. My phone vibrates in my bag and I dig it out to find a message from the bank. The hotel had deposited a payment equivalent to the days I've been working since it was only mid-month. They were not going to hire me back.
I sit there for hours, just contemplating. Thinking. Trying to figure out what comes next. This was going to be hard. With the bills and all the fees I had to pay, I was cornered.
The afternoon sun sets in, casting a warm glow on the pond. After driving around for hours and thinking for another unhealthy hours, I decide to go pay someone an overdue visit. It had been a while.
ns216.73.217.54da2
and then Add to home screen.