The Runaway

Six thirty my alarm went off, Stacy left for work fifteen minutes before. I pressed snooze five times, got up at seven. Shower, shave, leave at seven thirty. It’s a forty minute drive to work, and a ten minute walk from the parking structure. I sat in my car for ten minute before starting it. I wasn’t even half way there when I looked at the clock, it was almost eight.

I could already hear my boss; “Yyyou know yyyou’re suppooosed to be hhhere at eeeaght, rrright? It’s nnnot a biiig deal buuut I hhhave to wrrright yyyou uuup.”

The clock said eight. I turned from the middle lane to the exit, almost causing an accented. I went around back on the highway going away from work.

At eight-forty-something I stopped at a gas station near a town I probably passed a dozen times and not noticed, when my boss called. “Hhi Bradelyy, we noticed your over a hhafl an houuer late, wwhen are you going be heerer?”

“Yyyyeahhh, I’mm at, I don’t know wherrrre, nnnot innn theee cityyy.” I copied his condescending voice.

“Sso, when are you going to be heere?”

“I’m just going to take a mental health day, or week, or year so I’m not coming in.”

“Yyeah, that’s a no call, nno showw, that’s a fireable oofffense.”

“Then who would do my job? You? All you know how to do is be condescending and play WOW all day in your office. Anyway I’m pumping gas and you’re not supposed to be on the phone and do that, so by.”

I threw my phone into the street just in time for it to be ran over by a truck. I watched the destruction of me four-hundred-fifty dollar phone with a smile. “That’s probably a mistake.” I told myself. I looked at the remnants of my phone. “I don’t care.” I said allowed.

I drove until I was two states away. Stopped at a Taco Bell, took out my laptop, deleted all my work crap, and looked up the city I was in. Cheaper cost of living but the jobs weren’t as good. I began working on my resume. That night I slept in my car.

The next day I bought a fifty dollar cell phone. I deleted the messages from work without reading or listening to them. There were many messages from Stacy and my family, I called Stacy first.

“Brad? What the- Where are you?” she asked with concern in her voice, I told her were I was. “How did you get there?”

“I drove.” I answered simply.

“What? Why? When are you coming back?”

I sighed, “I’m not.”

“You can’t just leave!” she yelled, “What about us, your job, the apartment?”

“You have Steve.” I said, probably rudely.

She was silent for a moment. “That’s not what you think.”

“Yeah, he just stumbled into you dick first last Tuesday.”

“Brad it’s-” more silence. “I didn’t mean to- I- It was a mistake it wont happen again.” She sounded sincere.

“You-” I clinched my jaw, “You’re being a hypocrite.” I silently told myself. I breathed deeply forcing myself to be reasonable. “We both knew it would end this way.” I finally said.

“What?” she exclaimed.

I sighed, “You only dated me because I’m the opposite of Craig, I dated you to piss off Linda. It was a double rebound relationship.”

More silence, then a low “Yeah.” She sighed, “I wanted this to work, I don’t know why I- I’m not even attracted to him. I’m sorry” Silence. “I’m sorry, it wont happen again. We can make this work.”

“It’s okay, I-” I tried to confess my own infidelity but couldn’t. “I’ve wanted to do this since the divorce. I only moved there because of Linda and now the whole place just reminds me of her.”

She sighed, “Linda!” she exclaimed in a low voice. “I’m not Linda.” she sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“I know. I just- I need a change, someplace else.”

“Brad-”

“Stacy, I can’t go back, and I know you’re not going to leave. I’m sorry.” Part of me wanted to go back though, wanted to make it work with Stacy, but so much more of me wanted to never see that city again.

“What about your stuff, the apartment?”

“We just payed the rent last week. I should have enough in my savings and on my credit cards to pay my half and find a place here. You should have enough time to find a roommate. My stuff, keep it, get rid of it, through it in my storage. There’s a key in the nightstand.”

“Okay.” she said in a low voice, more silence. “So this is it?” she asked rhetorically, I think.

“Yeah.” I said lowly. “There’s Steve.”

“He was a mistake!” I think she meant it. “I like you. I think I’m just- I’m not ready for a real relationship.”

“You’ll find a nice guy.”

“You were a nice guy.” silence, “You’ll find someone good.”

“I don’t think I can trust any woman after what Linda did to me.”

“You’ll find someone you can trust. I’m sorry I wasn’t it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t your ‘it’.”

We were silent for what seemed like hours. “I have to go back to work.” she said. Then probably for the first time in history two people sincerely said: “Have a nice life,” “You too.”

I sat in my car for over an hour, not feeling, not thinking, just staring into space., until a cop knocked on my window bringing me back to reality. I moved my car, went on Facebook, told everyone what happened, though I didn’t say why. I called my family to apologize, even left an apology for my boss.

The first thing I felt after becoming fully human again was like an asshole for not telling Stacy I cheated. I still feel like one every time I think of her. After that I felt relief, like a man who finely reached shore after being stranded out at sea.

I found a cheep places to stay until I found something permanent. Before she took me off her Facebook she pointed me to a local branch of her company that was hiring. With some recommendations (one, surprisingly, from my boss) I barely got the job. Lower pay, same kind of people, but it payed for my place, and payed for a new laptop, tablet, and car.

I did go back to get some stuff in my storage, stuff from childhood and collage. I gave the rest away. It all reminded me of Linda, and Stacy.