Run Away, My Angel. Virginie T.

always white-hot knives stabbed in my heart. Even today I am afraid to walk through the front door and tell him that I got kicked out of my child care job. I thought this job would be a good workout for our role as parents, but the parents in question, for whom I worked, did not like my presence in their house. Well, especially the lady, who suspected her husband was feeding fantasies about me. Jealousy, when you have a hold on us! So, she fired me manu militari after catching her husband intently admiring my ass while I bent down to pick up a toy, and now I have to tell my fiancé who doesn't give a damn what were the reasons for my dismissal. All he sees is that I have no job, period. My phone rings, offering me a reprieve before the upcoming argument, and in spite of myself I smile when I see the name that appears on the screen.

      — Hi.

      — Hi pretty Mal. What's new?

      A deep sigh escapes from my lips while my shoulders sag.

      — Mallory?

      — I got fired.

      A first tear comes down my cheek at full speed. The first of a long series that I have been holding back since I left the house of my former employers.

      — Hey Mal, don't cry my beautiful. You know I can't stand it. Tell me what happened?

      — The husband was staring at me once again without being discreet and this did not suit his wife's taste!

      — OK, OK. Calm down. It's not your fault, sweetheart. You couldn't help it if the guy couldn't handle his libido in the face of your beauty. Their marital relationship doesn't concern you. They're the ones who have a problem to deal with. Come on, stop crying.

      I continuously sob and I wonder how Leon is understanding what I am trying to say.

      — What will Brandon say? We're going to fight again and...

      — Stop Mal. Brandon loves you and if he is not able to accept you as you are then he does not deserve you. You are a great girl and any man would be happy to be with you, okay?

      I am still down, but Leon has the knack for doing good to my ego. I breathe deeply several times to get over it.

      — Thank you. It felt good to release the pressure.

      — You´re welcome. I have told you this already. I will always be here for you. You can call me day or night.

      I do not know how to answer to so much kindness. Sometimes, I think he expects from me more than I can give him, only, in a very selfish way, I do not want him to walk away from me.

      — Thanks again. I have to go.

      — Call me later to tell me how it went. I'll be there in a minute if you need to.

      I do not answer. I'm not sure I'll be able to call him after the conversation that awaits me.

      — Promise me, Mal.

      — I'll try.

      I hang up before he goes on. I have already involved him too much in my relationship. It is time for me to act as an adult and take responsibility for my actions.

      Despite my good intentions, I very reluctantly come into the house. Brandon is there, on the sofa, arms folded and eyes fixed on me. Obviously, he was waiting for me.

      — Hello.

      — You don't have a job anymore?

      I shudder despite of myself as I take off my shoes. I am trying to buy some time, but he is not in the mood to give me a break.

      — You don't have to put this off. You stayed in the car for half an hour. Were you looking for a way to once more tell me the news?

      — It' wasn’t my fault, Brandon…

      He does not let me finish the sentence, he stands up abruptly and raises up his arms.

      — It's never your fault Mallory. You are never to blame, but it ends up being the same: you don't have a job and it's still up to me to take care of everything, from groceries bills to the gas of my car that you use to go to interviews that again lead to nothing.

      This is the first time he has accused me of being a kept woman and I take it very badly, to say the least.

      — I'm sorry to be a burden to you. I thought that by living together, the couples were united, but obviously I was wrong.

      He raises his voice, getting more and more angry as he begins to pace the room in front of me.

      — United doesn’t mean that I have to pay for everything while you take it easy.

      I, too, am exasperated by his unfounded words.

      — Because according to you I don't do anything? I spend my time looking for a job!

      — That’s the point Mallory. You're just looking. Only, you find less and less, and the few times you're hired, you barely hold a job for a week before leaving and then it starts all over again. It's endless and I'm sick of it!

      I don't know if I should laugh or cry. I am so worn out to see our relationship crumbling for so little. Because for me it is ridiculous. As long as we love each other, that should be what mattered the most and our relationship should strengthen through the trials we go through. Only, on the contrary, our relationship is torn apart at every obstacle and I am afraid that soon there will be nothing left despite all the love that we have. I then launch the first idea that comes through my head.

      — We should have a child. With no delay.

      This has the merit of stopping him and then he sets his eyes on me. I try to explain myself before his anger resumes and he will no longer be listening to me.

      — Why wait? You said it yourself, I'm available, I'll have plenty of time to take care of this. What matters is that we love each other and that this child is a proof of it.

      Brandon laughs out so loud that it echoes in our sparsely furnished living room.

      — You suggest to me to have a baby you will take care of, while I toil like a mad man to take care of you and your offspring?

      My offspring? I almost choked on my saliva and somehow I sit down on a chair before collapsing on the floor.

      — Because do you really imagine that I still want to have a baby with you? After all our arguments, do you really think I want to be this committed to you?

      His eyes are icy while he scrutinizes me, waiting for my answer. However, what can I answer to this? I realize that I was not aware of the gap there was between us. I thought it was only a passing setback and that eventually we would get over it. However, I am far away from reality. I can only speak in a whisper, my voice is stuck in my throat.

      — No, I suppose not.

      Brandon is worn out. He collapses on the sofa with all his weight, making the seat squeak, while he resumes in a dreary tone.

      — Honestly Mallory, I'm not even sure I want to go on.

      Second dagger in my heart. I do not want him to clarify his thoughts but at the same time, I need to understand the extent of the damage.

      — Continue what?

      — Us.

      I have to be masochist, asking him to clarify.

      — That is?

      — I'm not sure I want to live with you anymore. I think we should take a break for a while.

      A break... Everyone knows the meaning of "taking a break" for a couple. It is a polite way, if there is one, to break up without saying it clearly. If I had not been sitting, I probably would have fallen to the ground in pain. I'm losing my footing and I need Beth more than ever. I need my best friend to heal my wounds. However, I'm too proud to call for help.

      — I'll give you time to turn around, but I'd like you to pack your bags as soon as possible.

      Because on top of that he is kicking me out of the house? I stand there with my mouth open and my arms dangling,