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Delilah

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Eleanor all but demanded that we have a weekend together after I'd told her about seeing Stan at the hospital. Dot, Nor, and I had already had a sleepover set for the weekend before Harry made his snarky comments, though. I didn't see the problem. Especially not when I was entirely confident that he'd had his fair share of sleepovers with his greaser gang.

The last person I'd expected to see was Stanley, although maybe I should have known better. He'd been prone to appearing at the hospital back when we were dating. Some method of keeping me in check disguised as visiting his dear girlfriend during her shift. I was mad that he was there just as much as I was mad that I reacted to him in the ways I always used to. That incessant flutter in the bottom corner of my heart, in response to the way his aura melded with mine instantly. Viper venom dipping into open wounds. Bad habits you know you haven't yet broken. Traipsing across skyscraper tightropes; aware of the danger, but disregarding it completely.

I was mad that Harry showed up like a goddamn knight in beaten, clattering armor. I was mad that the both of them caused a scene. I was just...mad. Anger bubbling under the surface, lid closed over the boiling water. Mr. Wellers had caught my eye before I was leaving for the night, waving me into his room, and suddenly the anger vanished. At least for the few minutes I stood there, talking to him.

"Dear, I don't mean to be nosy, but what was all that ruckus about?" he rested his chin in his palm, like he had all day to listen to whatever I decided to tell him. And maybe that's because he did.

I shook my head with a breathy, exasperated laugh, "Don't worry about it, Mr. Wellers. Just dealing with a patient."

His eyes glanced over my face as if he was trying to read below my skin. "I hope that angry one didn't say anything to ya. He seemed real ruffled; glad that grease kid showed up for ya. Stay out of trouble, though, Miss Delilah. I don't wanna see you getting into a mess"

I'd only nodded in response, unsure of what to say that would quell his curiosity. Of course Stan had said things to me before. Things I could very well write a book about. Things I knew he should have never said, but I hadn't known what to do. Being apart gave me peace and distance from him, until he decided to randomly show up and try to harass me back in. I refused to succumb anymore. I'd done it one too many times already; falling for his manipulation like an obedient puppy. Gently taking the treat from his open palm and rolling over onto my back. I think he knew I meant it this time, and that's why he continued to show up. Desperation washing over his features, hidden below the shallow layer of ice at the surface.

If only Mr. Wellers knew the mess I'd already found myself in.

"Well, I won't keep ya, sweetheart. Have a good night, I'll see you in the mornin'."

I bid my goodbyes to Mr. Wellers and headed straight home, where I promptly hid any events, or emotions, of the day. If Dad knew Stan showed up again, he probably would've called the cops and that was the last thing I needed to deal with. He didn't understand why I was so hesitant to get the fuzz involved; why I didn't want to recount every aspect of my previous relationship, only to have it be ignored in favor of the pompous, manipulative man who's word would always hold more weight than my own.

It's something I can ignore and shove to the back of my mind. An inconvenience easily shrouded in a blanket of ignorant bliss. A simple aspect of my life that I just...have to deal with...until Stan finally leaves town.

"Baby girl, do you ladies need anything tonight?" my father calls through the house while I pack a few things to take to Nor's. My radio is quietly humming static in the background as a soundtrack to my preparation.

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