Tara Sivec: Worn Me Down

“It-it’s the dress you got me. Don’t you like it?” I questioned.

He tossed the mail down on top of the table and stalked over to me. “Your tits are hanging out. Do you want all of my colleagues to think you’re a whore? Jesus, it’s like you don’t even have a fucking brain sometimes.”

With a shaking hand, I reached up and pressed my palm over the miniscule bit of cleavage that can be seen peeking out from the top of the dress.

It’s always best not to say anything when William’s in one of his moods. I should know this by now, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know why he was so angry.

“I’m not showing that much. This dress is very conservative compared to what the other wives will be wearing.”

The punch to my stomach is quick and takes my breath away. Bending over, I clutched my hands around my middle and struggled to get air into my lungs while trying not to cry. William hated it when I cried.

“Go upstairs and change. Make it fast. We’re going to be late now because of you.”

“Gwen. Hey, GWEN!”

The sound of my name pulls me back from the past and I blink my eyes into focus. Austin has moved from his spot leaning against the counter and is back in my personal space. The concern on his face is evident and I look down at my hands when I feel something hot and wet on them.

The coffee. Shit, I spilled the coffee.

Austin gently reaches out and pulls the now half-empty mug out of my shaking hands, placing it on my desk.

“Where did you go just now?” he asks quietly, pulling tissues out of the box on my desk and wiping the spilled coffee off my hands.

I stare in wonder as he softly pats my hands. It’s been so long since someone took care of me. It’s also been a while since I had one of those awful memories. I pushed them all away as soon as I arrived at Brady’s house that night so many months ago. I wouldn’t let myself think about them. I was broken enough; thinking about all of the ways I was a fool would just make things worse.

Five minutes in Austin’s company and I’m reliving the past. I angrily yank my hands out of his grasp and finish wiping my hands off on my own.

“It’s fine. I don’t need your help.”

Stepping away from him, I walk over to the garbage can and toss the tissues away.

“You just spaced out and spilled hot coffee all over yourself. Stop being so damn stubborn,” he replies.

Before I can come up with a good insult that will finally make him leave me the hell alone, the bell above the door dings again and the one word that makes everything better is shouted from across the room.

“Mommy!”

Iprobably shouldn’t have called her a princess. That was a dick move, but she’s really pissing me off. Why is it so hard for her to just accept the fact that Brady wants me here and I’m not going anywhere? Who knows what the fuck made her zone out, her hands shake and had her spilling hot coffee over herself. All that irritability bottled up in her tiny, well-endowed body probably short-circuted her brain. Remind me never to call her any names again. Next time she might throw that cup at my head.

Before I can try to reason with her again, my eyes widen in surprise as a mini version of Gwen comes racing into the office and throws herself at the woman whose ass I’d been staring at when she bent over to throw away the kleenex.

“Hi baby! How was your day?” Gwen asks the little girl as she scoops her up in her arms and peppers her face with kisses.

An older woman, I didn’t even notice following behind the girl, stands off to the side with a pink backpack in her hands.

“I colored you a picture at Miss Karen’s and I got to watch a princess movie!” the girl replies excitedly.

Gwen holds onto her tightly and then turns to the woman. “Thanks for dropping her off, Karen.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the woman replies before setting the backpack down on the floor. “Bye, Emma!”

The girl turns in Gwen’s arms and waves. “Bye, Miss Karen!”

As the woman leaves, Gwen sets the girl down and she immediately walks over to me.

“Who are you?” she asks, looking up at me.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

I look over at Gwen with my eyebrow raised. How in the hell did Brady never mention his sister had a kid? I don’t like kids. They’re small and they talk too much.

“This is Mr. Austin. And he was just leaving,” Gwen says, looking pointedly at me.

Yeah, I don’t think so.

“Austin is the capital of Texas. Do you like pink? My favorite color is pink.”

Bending down to get a better look at the little pipsqueak, I see she has the exact same gray colored eyes as her mother, the same smattering of freckles over her nose and the same dark brown hair. Gwen though, has added a few streaks of blue and purple to hers and I’m not gonna lie, it’s hot as fuck.

“You’re pretty smart for a kid. What are you, like twelve or something?”

Glancing up, I see Gwen giving me the stink-eye.

“You’re funny,” Emma says with a laugh. “I’m six. My mom says I’m really smart. Are you smart? Do you have a job?”

Gwen snorts and now it’s my turn to glare at her before looking back at Emma. “I’m a genius. And I’m also a Navy SEAL, which makes me pretty bad ass.”

Emma holds her hand out in front of me and taps her foot. “One dollar, please.”

Pushing myself up to my full height, I stare down at her in confusion. “Uh, one dollar for what?”

“One dollar for the swear jar. You said a bad word. Every time my mom says a bad word I get a dollar for my college fund,” Emma replies without missing a beat.

Awww shit. That’s right. You’re not supposed to swear in front of kids.

With a sigh, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet, forking over a five. “Here, keep the change. I’m sure I’ll be putting you through college in no time.”

Emma snatches the five out of my hand and runs over to Gwen. Little Miss Perfect over there probably never swears in front of her kid. And now she’s got one more thing to add to her ever-growing list of reasons why she hates me and doesn’t want me here.

“Look, mom! I got five dollars. That makes a total of…”

I watch as Emma tries to calculate in her head, scrunching up her face and thinking really hard. It would be kind of cute if I thought kids were cute. Which I don’t. At all.

“That brings you up to sixty-two dollars,” Gwen tells her quietly.

I can’t help the bark of laughter that bursts out of me. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone has a potty mouth.”

Gwen huffs, taking the five dollars from Emma and sticking it into the front pocket of her jeans. “You’re forgetting we live with my brother. Uncle Brady isn’t used to living with a little girl, right Emma?”

Emma giggles and shakes her head at Gwen. “Last week you gave me twenty dollars when you were trying to fix the leak under the kitchen sink. And the week before that you gave me ten dollars when you dropped a big book on your toe. And the day before that-”

Gwen immediately cuts her off by placing her palm over Emma’s mouth. I think I might be changing my mind on my opinion of kids. Staring at Gwen challengingly, I wait for her to explain.

She sighs. “It’s been a bad couple of weeks. Emma, why don’t you take your bag into the back room and get started on your homework?”

Gwen removes her hand from Emma’s mouth and the little girl smiles up at me before scooping up her backpack and racing off to the back room.

When Emma is gone, I watch as Gwen nervously fiddles with things on Brady’s desk. She rearranges a cup full of pens, moves a legal pad to an opposite corner and straightens the desk calendar that doesn’t need straightening – anything she can do to avoid looking at me.