She sat at the table with her head angled slightly to one side and down enabling her dark hair to fall over the right side of her pale face. Normally she would stay indoors for a few days after one of their 'episodes' but this time he didn't leave and she couldn't bear to be near him right now. This was exactly the type of place he hated her going to, all of the people she could possibly talk to that might 'put silly ideas into her head' as he was fond of saying, in regard to conversations she might have with other people.
The pretty, blond and annoyingly chirpy, waitress arrived with her coffee, hovering beside her for a moment, awaiting acknowledgement. Instinctively she looked up with a smile of thanks and immediately wished she hadn't. Pretty blond waitress's face fell, albeit fleetingly, when she took in the countenance smiling back at her. With a muttered thank you, she dropped her head enough to allow her hair to swing down protectively over the offending aspect of her features.
Taking a quick glance around her at the other tables, she reached down into her bag, that she had stowed by her feet and grabbed her phone from the side pocket. It vibrated silently in her hand. She had been away from the house for little under 30 minutes. Looking at the screen she could see the text messages and missed call notifications had already mounted up, even on a 'good' day this was not unusual, but today the amount appeared to have multiplied by a factor of ten. The phone in her hand, she sat watching the steam dancing in ribbons above the hot coffee and allowed herself to feel the throb in her right temple. Her hand buzzed and it prompted her to look at the flat screen once again. She should just switch it off and get herself together, she knew that, but as always she then worried that he may do something stupid if she didn't respond.
Although it was possible, it was still doubtful that anyone else but him would be trying to contact her since most of her friends had given up maintaining a relationship with someone that constantly cancelled on the last minute and failed to turn up. There were no colleagues that might need to speak to her because he had convinced her long ago that she didn't need to work, he wanted to look after her and he could make sure she had whatever she needed, all she had to do was ask. Another buzz from the phone and she finally unlocked it and took in the stream of notifications awaiting her attention. All 35 were from him. The first 4 or 5 were voice messages, the usual angry rant about how she tortures him and pushes him too far, how she manipulates him into behaving badly because she likes to play sick games with his head and watch him come undone. Then, he had switched to text, which meant that he was calming somewhat, but that he was sitting brooding and then sending her a running commentary which was still angry and nasty but becoming more measured with each instalment.
Due to the lack of response he was now becoming calmer and obviously desperate because he had moved on to saying how she knows how he can be, it was just a silly row and she should come home and they could forget all about it. To come home, have a nice dinner and snuggle down for the night, she could even watch whatever silly movie she liked. In the final few messages he had switched back to phone calls. These were the usual pleading, he needed her, he wouldn't know what to do without her, he couldn't cope and lastly, her personal favourite, he would rather die than be without her. Quite often at this stage he would go into detail about what he had available around him to do the deed, sometimes he would say he had the bread knife in his hand and was prepared to cut his wrists, other times it would be the pills from the bathroom cabinet and a bottle of booze, but today it seemed he hadn't reached that stage just yet but if she remained silent she was pretty sure it would come.
Hitting the reply button, she quickly dashed off a response saying she was taking some time out, wouldn't be long and not to worry. It wouldn't completely placate him, but it should be enough that he was calm when she did go home, so long as she didn't delay too much. She just really needed to get herself together, put her face straight and let the crying subside. It wouldn't be helpful if she looked like she had been crying when she got back, then she would be emotionally blackmailing him, trying to get sympathy and all the other things women used crying for.
After draining her coffee cup, she took a trip to the bathroom at the back of the cafe. Going directly into a cubicle she put the lid down and sat for a short time preparing to go out and survey the damage. After a deep encouraging breath she went out and washed her hands, delaying looking up for as long as she could, then finally she saw herself. Her right eye was just beginning to puff up, red but no real bruising yet, her right temple was tender to her touch. All in all she felt like she'd had worse and even though the swelling was obvious, she might even get away with minimal bruising that could be easily covered this time.
With her hair carefully arranged around her face, she strode out of the small bathroom and wove her way through the cafe to the exit
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