Page 2 of Crushing Clover

I sat on the couch and stewed, alternating between despair and anger, scrolling through social media and envying the seemingly perfect lives of my acquaintances.

Noah and I had been together since we’d met at a respite group home when we were fourteen. A couple of years after that, we’d been emancipated, and had moved out on our own. We’d been each other’s firsts for everything. Sure, I was pissed…but was I really going to abandon all of that?

I sent our late rent money to our landlord, along with next month’s rent and a texted apology, letting him know I’d been out of town for work. I should have paid him myself before I left.

Sighing, I eventually went into the bedroom and squeezed Noah’s foot. Either he slept through it, or he ignored me. I then sat on the edge of the bed and patted him possibly harder than necessary.

He mumbled something unintelligible, then smiled blearily. “Babe, if you want more, go ahead and hop on.”

Babe?

He never called me that. Was it his pet name for Shiloh?

I looked down at him, studying his beloved, familiar face in the soft light filtering through the curtains. After spending time away, being used roughly by rich, older men, Noah still seemed very much like a boy.

Wasn’t he what I was supposed to want? The sight of him coming down the street used to make my heart sing, but over time my feelings for him had faded to a vague annoyance, like a chore that was never done and always weighed on my mind.

“Hey, it’s me.” I shook him again and his eyes opened, going round and worried.

“Oh shit!” He sat up so fast our heads almost collided.

I shifted back.

“Uhh, Clover. I was dreaming about you.” He mussed his hair with his telltale hand—he only did it when he was lying.

“Don’t bother. I accidentally got into bed next to Shiloh when I came in.”

He scanned the room, as though she might still be here.

“She’s gone.” How was I feeling so calm?

He straightened his shoulders and frowned at me. “You don’t have any reason to be mad, you know. We’re even. You went to that resort and fucked around on me, so I had every right to step out while you were gone. At least I only slept with one other person.”

Of course he’d use that excuse.

I’d been so eager to come home and feel safe, but the truth was Noah had never been my safe space.

I’d always been his. While I worked my ass off, and cleaned up after him like a parent, he did whatever he wanted.

We’d become a toxic habit. As unthinkable as leaving him had been only hours ago, the idea of not having to deal with his shit anymore felt liberating.

“You know that me working is different than you cheating.” I shook my head at him. “If it was the same, you wouldn’t be so defensive.”

“So, you’re going to act like the victim after sleeping around and leaving me to take care of everything here?”

“I can assure you it was work, not fun. I earned every damned penny, if not more. I got sent home early because I got so badly hurt.”

“You look fine now—better than fine. Fancy haircut, perfect brows.”

My fading facial bruises probably weren’t apparent in this light.

“Well, I’m not fine, and as for you taking care of everything for the past three weeks, I’ve been taking care of fucking everything since we moved in together.”

“You always act like such a fucking martyr.”

“Even when you were dealing, you didn’t pay for anything—you bought yourself a new computer and put us into debt with your supplier because you used half of your product. Why don’t you get a regular job, for fuck’s sake?”

“I’m not working for minimum wage. It’s a waste of my time.”

I was so tired of this argument I hadn’t even brought it up in six months. He refused to see reason.

“Minimum wage is better than nothing, and it will help you build a resume.”

He fiddled with the sheet, running his fingers over a slub in the fabric. “It’s always about money with you. Life isn’t supposed to be all about work, Clover.”

Great. A fucking philosopher. Hell, he was already wearing a sheet and everything.

“My life is only ‘all about work’ because I’m supporting you and cleaning up after you.”

He scoffed. “We have different standards when it comes to cleaning. So what? Real women love taking care of their man. Shiloh doesn’t mind.”

I gave him an unfriendly smile and took a step back from the bed. I’d been hovering over him and arguing with him long enough. The man would never see reason. “Shiloh doesn’t want to see you again, and neither do I. We’re done.”

I dug my backpack out of the closet and started stuffing things into it.

“Where are you going?” Now, he wasn’t sounding quite so cocky.

I didn’t bother answering. The truth was, I had no idea where I was going.

“You can’t take our stuff. There’s no proof you bought any of it.”

“We both know I pay for everything, but you can go ahead and keep it. Don’t bother calling me for money or cigarettes, or anything else you might happen to run out of. Rent is paid for this month and next month, but that’s the end of your free ride.”

I put my ID, the forty bucks I always hid under the Lysol wipes, and a few toiletries into my bag, as he watched in disbelieving silence. When I headed down the hallway toward the front door, he seemed to shake off his shock.

“Clover, wait.” He stumbled out of bed and tried to take the sheet with him to wrap around his waist, as though I hadn’t seen him naked a million times.

“What am I waiting for?”

“You can’t leave.” His bravado had faded, and his voice held an edge of alarm.

His sandy blond hair and big blue eyes attempted to tug on my heartstrings, but it was like trying to play a waterlogged guitar—there was a bit of a twang, but it only set my teeth on edge. “You always say I’m your rock.”

“You were my rock,” I agreed as I opened the door and stepped out into freedom. “It just took me a few years to realize you were tied around my neck.”

I closed the door quietly behind me and headed into the morning.