One-Sided Stories: Secrets Unspoken on the Line

Chloe? It's me. Don't hang up. Please. I was just listening to this story… you know that show I like… about secrets unfolding on a phone call. And all I could think about was you. About the secrets we're not supposed to talk about, the ones everyone sees but nobody names. I saw you today. At the farmer's market. You were by the flower stall, pretending to look at the peonies. You thought I didn't see you, but I did. You were wearing that big wool scarf, the grey one. It's seventy-five degrees out, Chloe.

And sunglasses. Inside the pavilion. I almost called out to you. But then he came over. And I saw it. He put his hand on your arm, and you… you flinched. Like you’d been burned. Don't. Don't you dare tell me it was nothing. I saw your face. No. No, I didn't come over because I didn't want to make a scene. For YOU. I didn't want to make it worse. But I'm done with that. I'm done being quiet. What happened to your eye? You walked into a door. Again. My god. How many doors are you going to walk into before you realize you're living in a house with no exits?

Remember when we were kids? You were the tough one. You broke your arm falling out of that big oak tree in the backyard because you were convinced you could fly. You didn't even cry. You just held your arm and told Dad you’d almost made it. Where did that girl GO? The one who wasn't afraid of anything? He's taking her. He's taking her from you, piece by piece, and you're just… letting him. What do you mean, what do I want you to do? I want you to leave! I want you to pack a bag and walk out that door and never, ever look back.

I know. I know you love him. Or you think you do. But love isn't supposed to hurt. It's not supposed to make you hide from your own sister in the grocery store. It's not supposed to leave marks that you have to cover with scarves in the middle of summer. He's sorry? He's always sorry. His apologies are just the space between the bad things. They don't mean anything. Don't cry. Please don't cry. Or do. Cry. Let it out. What was that? Oh, god. Is he there? Is he home now? Chloe, don't say anything. Don't say a word.

Just listen to me. I have a bag packed for you. It's in the trunk of my car. It has clothes, some cash, your favorite tea. Everything you need for right now. I'm getting in my car as we speak. I can be there in ten minutes. Chloe, if you can get out, just… just knock once on the phone. If you can't, do nothing. I'll understand. Just one knock if you're coming. Okay. Okay. You're so brave. You are the bravest person I know. Listen to me. Put the phone in your pocket. Don't hang up. Just put it in your pocket. Go to the front door.

Say you're taking out the trash. Say you're checking the mail. I don't care. Just walk outside. Don't run. Just walk. I'm on my way. I'll be parked two blocks down, at the corner of Elm and Second. A blue sedan. You'll see me. Just walk. I'm coming. I love you. I'm on my way. Just keep walking.