Chapter 4

Lilith, please pick up!” Aubrey whined over my landline’s voicemail as I stirred myself some chocolate Nesquik. “Jacque asked me out on a date, and I don’t know what to say. This is big news. Call me back!” She shrieked that last part.

I stared blankly at the wall as I stirred, Aubrey’s voice entering one ear and going straight out the other. My mind was as blank as the wall. I needed to gather some thoughts in there, but what was I supposed to think? My mind had shut down. I’d slept well into the afternoon and had yet to even wash my face. I was so glad it was Sunday. By Monday, I would be up and pumping. But right now, I needed to relax.

Turning my head around, I had the unfortunate mental capacity to assess my physical state. My face looked dull and stale from over-oxidized foundation, and mascara-stained tear tracks down my cheeks. The eyeliner had spread around my eyes and inspired the inner raccoon to surface. I felt like a raccoon, too. Eating off-brand chips that tasted bland, drowned in soda, and watching horrible comedy movies late into the night as I’d cried.

I loved having the occasional mental breakdown.

Holly barked and I jumped out of my trance, spilling some chocolate milk on the marble tile. Holly licked it up immediately. I breathed deeply to feel a little alive, and inhaled the milk in one go.

Beep.

“Lilith, are you dead? Should I call the police?”

I ran toward the phone and accepted her call. “It’s the weekend.”

“Oh…I forgot. Did you hear that Jacq—”

I sighed. “Yes. Look, just be yourself with him. He’s quite similar to you so I doubt he’d have a bad impression of you.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“What do you mean?” I raised a brow and placed the glass gently on a nearby table.

“I don’t know…” She trailed off. “I just really like him and want to impress him. I’m not very impressive as a person.”

“You’re twenty-five with a Master’s degree in Fashion and Jewelry. What on earth do you mean?”

“Who’d be interested in that? That’s girly stuff.”

I groaned, realizing that Aubrey had internalized a lot of misogyny from her exes and other men around her.

“The guy loves fashion, Aubrey.” I rubbed my forehead. “Haven’t you been through his Instagram?”

“What if he’s better at fashion than me?”

“You have a master’s degree,” I shouted helplessly. “Good grief, Aubrey, do you really think dating is a good idea when the other person can’t even get to know and like who you really are? You don’t wanna show them that because you don’t like yourself at all!”

“I-I do like myself!”

“Then why do you keep changing yourself for other people?” Silence lingered on the line for several moments. I sat back on the edge of my couch’s backrest, waiting for her to respond. “Hello? Aubrey?”

“You’re right…” she whispered. “I’ll think on it.”

Click.

Slight guilt tugged at my chest, and I knew I must’ve hurt her feelings a bit with that. But the way she acted was really getting on my nerves. It had been a year of deliberately undermining herself and being a doormat. Probably longer, which was why she came to me. I had tried improving it with subtle suggestions and directing her into considering therapy for her self-esteem and pattern of running after assholes, but it was time I was blunt with her.

With a groan, I let myself fall backward onto the couch. Holly jumped up on me, demanding pats and ruffles, which I was more than happy to give.

I had a very weird feeling that last night wasn’t the last of the motherly drama left to deal with.

The phone rang once again, and I sighed in annoyance. Why didn’t people understand that they should leave others alone during the weekends? I swung my arm over my eyes and ignored the sound bouncing around the room, until it finally stopped. And went to voicemail.

“Hi, it’s Emily.”

I froze.

“I don’t want to pick a fight over the phone. Tell me when we can meet.”

Did this have to happen today out of all times?

I needed to get out of here before the walls caved in and crashed over my head.

“I was surprised you called,” Marcus said as we settled behind a table by the window in a quaint little coffee shop. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”

“I know it’s weird,” I shook my head, “but I’m a really reserved person and don’t know a lot of people so…”

“Oh.” His eyes widened in confusion. “Sorry, that hardly sounds believable.”

“I-it’s true.” I could feel my face go red with embarrassment. “I don’t know why I thought of you off the bat, I just…maybe because your mom was really nice the other day, and so were you. It’s rare to find people like that these days.”

“If it’s any comfort, I have trouble trusting people, too,” he said with an understanding nod. The waitress came over, promptly took our order, and left. “Just black coffee? The apple pie’s really nice here, by the way.”

“I don’t have a sweet tooth.”

“You’re full of surprises, Lilian.”

“Lilith.”

His eyes shone with curiosity, and it was kind of flattering, to be honest.

“Your name’s Lilith?”

“I changed it after I moved out of my mom’s place.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “You’re really something. Why Lilith out of all names? It’s close to the name your mom gave you.”

“I just admired Lilith from the biblical stories a lot. I mean, I’m generally not a religious person but I never saw her as someone evil. She was just…normal and demonized for it.”

“I agree with that interpretation.” He nodded excitedly. “Have you heard the reinterpretation of Medusa’s story and how the curse was actually a blessing in disguise?”

“I have!” I perked up. “The patriarchal system placed Athena in a position to punish Medusa who was a victim of Poseidon’s assault, so in its guise she gave Medusa the power to protect herself by turning men to stone so they may harm her no more.”

“It makes more sense that way,” he agreed. “I’m obsessed with folklore, fairytales, and mythologies. I often look out for retellings that bring out aspects I wouldn’t have noticed as a man. I guess I just got tired of reading the same thing over and over.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, pick up whatever classic you can that’s been a hit and written mostly by men. I found a repetition of gore, violence, and war in most. I was inspired to write a paper on this in high school when I found out that Disney had changed most of its classic animated movies to be more family friendly. It’s kind of where my love of reading sprang from.”

I listened, absolutely stunned and entranced as we discussed things back and forth about everything and anything under the sun. It was…exhilarating. I’d never been able to talk to anyone like this before, mostly because I never took the opportunity to seek out people like him. I’d always been so desperate to survive and leave my ex-boyfriend and Mom that I forgot I needed friends, too.

To be fair, I still had as many trust issues as I did back then, and everyone back in Michigan had been terrible to me. I wasn’t even sure why I’d let my mom follow me to New York. Probably all the years of being gaslit had led me to feel responsible for her own terrible circumstances. I was only just beginning to accept that her behavior toward me was never justified under any circumstances.

Should I stop sending her money?

“About last night…” He interjected out of nowhere, and I suddenly felt myself growing alarmed. “I know what she said about your nose wasn’t very nice. I hope you didn’t mind me butting in the way I did. I understand that it was something for you to tackle on your own.”

“What? No!” I cried out. “No, please don’t apologize. No one’s ever stood up for me like that. I was just shocked.”

“I just wanted to make sure.” He chuckled nervously. “Hopefully I wasn’t being too forward. I was just stating a fact; you’re incredibly beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I said awkwardly and sipped my coffee to hide my face. My chest felt warm again. It was a weird feeling and definitely not something I was used to. I knew paranoia would ruin it for me sooner or later. I could feel his gaze on me, soft and kind. I glanced at him, his eyes catching the sunlight. They were green. But I was sure they had looked brown last night.

I blinked and glanced away, concerned that my mental health was taking a toll on my memory. If it got too bad, I’d saved up enough to retire comfortably. Maybe if I could stretch my career another fifteen years, I wouldn’t have to worry about the next generation, either—if that was ever a possibility of happening.

Next generation?

I was shocked at my own thoughts. I’d always actively avoided the topic of kids, especially after moving out. I always believed I could never be a mother or partner to anyone because of the abuse I’d put up with. I didn’t want to perpetuate a never-ending cycle of generational trauma. I would kill myself before I ever inflicted that onto a child. Recovery from trauma was extremely difficult, and I was losing all hope of being okay anytime soon.

A prolonged but easy silence fell over us. I felt a lot calmer and my coffee was gone.

“I’m kind of taken aback.” Marcus laughed lightly. “When we met your mom, she made you out to be this meek and tender thing that was always stressed and needed someone to desperately lean on all the time, but you’re pulling through just fine from what I can see.”

I wanted to laugh at him. Mom was right, but not in the way she thought. I did need someone. A therapist.

Yet, as I sat here, I realized that I could at least start out with a friend.