Shafted [ONC 2022]

Perfidy

Rukiya had never been happier to turn the key in her door. The familiar sights and smells of her apartment washed over her—the pina colada candle she often burned, the giant monstera near the windows.

When she'd moved into this apartment three years ago, she didn't have a vision in mind of how she wanted to decorate. So little by little, she filled it with things she liked—the dark brown sofas, the matching TV stand, a shelf of succulents under an LED lamp, and a painting of a woman bathing in a forest from her favourite artist.

She sat her bag on the little table by the door and hung her coat on the hook above it. "Babe? You home?" She crossed to the bay window that overlooked the park and pulled the curtains closed, but not before catching a glimpse of the kids chasing each other through the snow.

Ty had left the Xbox controller on the coffee table, along with two empty beer bottles. She set the former in its place on the TV stand and threw the latter in the trash. The remnants of spaghetti coated a saucepan on the stove, and she found two plates in the dishwasher.

"Babe?" She looked towards the pocket doors that led to her bedroom and heard the shower switch off. Of course, he was just getting his day started at noon.

Rukiya slid the doors open. The first thing she saw was Ty, sitting on the bed with eyes trained on his phone and earbuds blasting music. He looked up after she stepped in and gaped, his eyes shifting to the bathroom door just as it opened.

Out walked a slim brunette, smelling of Rukiya's favorite mango body scrub, wrapped up in her favorite spa robe. "Hey honey, are you—" She stopped short, and stiffened, her eyes moving back and forth between Ty and Rukiya. The silence buzzed, and the tension was hot and heavy and electric, like the moment between a flash of lightning and the inevitable thunder.

Ty swallowed and rubbed his face. "Rukiya, I—"

"Shut up." Calmly, too calmly, Rukiya reached behind the chest of drawers for one of the five steel bats she kept in the apartment. The metal was icy against her hands, but its bite did nothing to quell her rising anger.

He shot up from the bed. "Rukiya, put the bat down and let me—"

She cranked her arm back to swing. "I said shut the fuck up. You." She pointed the blunt end of the bat at the brunette, and the woman flinched. "You have ten seconds to get your ass out of my apartment."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she squeaked, putting her hands up in a placating gesture. "I didn't—"

"Nine. Eight. Seven."

The brunette tore from the room and, two seconds later, the front door slammed shut.

"You." She pointed the bat at Ty. "Get dressed, and you better be fucking quick about it. If I have to come back in here, I swear to god, this bat will be the least of your worries." She took measured steps from the room, dragging the bat in her wake.

The leather of the couch was cold and oppressive against her back as she sat down. All she could hear was the droning of her heart in her ears. All she could smell was mangoes and betrayal. All she could see was red. It wasn't enough for him to cheat. He had to bring another woman in her house, in her bed. A cramp ran up and down her arms from squeezing the bat too hard and she eased up her grip.

After spending the ride home ruminating over what she'd say to him, she'd walked through the front door intending to have a hot shower and then sitting down for an overdue talk. But there was nothing left to talk about, it seemed. He'd made his choice.

Ty emerged from the bedroom minutes later, dressed in jeans and a black sweater. Rukiya remembered thinking how charming he was when he approached at the opening banquet for Salsboro Enterprises. Back then, his locs had been shorter; he'd been clean shaven, shy. Not this selfish monster with no regard for her feelings. All the wit, charm and confidence had faded, and arrogance, impatience and frigidity had replaced it.

It wasn't worth saving. They weren't worth saving.

"Rukiya, just put the bat down, please," he begged. "And we can talk about this." Strangely enough, this was the most sincere and least condescending he'd sounded in a while. Too late.

Rukiya finally met his gaze. "The phone." She held out a hand.

When she stayed silent, he set the phone in her waiting hand. Even though she hated iPhones, she'd bought it for him after he dropped his old one in water. Brand new, matte black, sleek. She'd caught him eyeing it one night in bed and surprised him with it the next day. She popped the sim card out and handed it to him.

His jaw ticked, and he breathed a sigh through his nose. "Kiya, stop acting crazy and let's talk." He hadn't seen crazy yet.

"There's nothing to talk about. We're done." She slipped the sim card into his pocket. "The rest of your stuff will be waiting for you downstairs tomorrow. Leave. Now."

"Kiya—"

"Get out!" she screeched, raising the bat. Her anger boiled over. She imagined herself hitting him over the head—making him hurt as much physically as she did emotionally. And if he stayed in her line of sight one moment more, she would.

Ty put his hands up and back away until he reached the door. His hand found the knob, and he eased out of the apartment, but not before shaking his head like a disappointed parent. Like he'd done nothing wrong. Like she hadn't just found a woman in her apartment wrapped up in her favorite robe.

Rukiya tossed the bat, and it skittered over the wood floors before slamming into the door. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Maybe she hadn't been the best girlfriend, but nothing she did, nothing she could do, would warrant stepping out on her. She drew her legs to her chest and sobbed into her knees. 

All that hard work, all the sacrifices she'd made amounted to nothing, and that hurt. It felt as though someone had set her chest ablaze. She brushed her braids from her face, and her hand brushed against something soft. Kadin's beanie. It still smelled like him, like cedar and geranium.

They'd made a promise to each other to confront the things and people in their lives they'd been running away from, and she could only hope his talk with his parents went better than her non-talk with Ty. 

Rukiya wasn't sure how long she sat there on the couch, but some time later, a knock on the front door cut through her ball of misery.

"Rukiya?" Wendy called.

She lifted her head. "D-don't come in." She couldn't let Wendy see her like this, a broken mess sobbing on the couch.

But, in true Wendy fashion, she barged in anyway. Her dark hair was thrown up into a ponytail and she wore pink Hello Kitty PJs that Rukiya threatened to steal on more than one occasion. She stopped short at the sight of Rukiya curled up on the couch.

"Oh no, honey. What's wrong? What happened?" Wendy knelt in front of the couch and laid a warm hand on Rukiya's knee.

Rukiya inhaled a shuddering breath. "I..." She cleared the gravel from her voice. "Ty had another woman in..." She couldn't even get the thought out. The words were so bitter they made her want to gag. A gambit of emotions ran through her friend's eyes, and by that alone, Rukiya knew she needn't say more.

Wendy breathed a sigh through her nose. "Come on." She stood and offered her hand.

"Where are we going?"

"You're not staying here like this." She took Rukiya by the arm and pulled her to her feet. "We'll go up to my place, run you a nice bath, and we can have some carbonara and champagne. I have a buddy who owns a steam cleaning company. He'll make sure every trace of Ty and whatever bitch he had in here is erased."

Rukiya smiled through her tears. Of course, Wendy would know what she needed.

"Then we'll burn that mattress and get you a new one, repaint the room. Complete transformation. It'll be just like he never lived here."

She nodded. "Thank you, Wendy."