Inferiority

On the phone screen, I noticed Alvin's number.

I hesitated before getting up, going to the window, and picking up the phone.

I'm not going to run away any longer.

"Hello."

There was no immediate response, and all that could be heard were rapid breaths as if he didn't trust the call would be answered.

Finally, I heard Alvin's voice. "Happy Birthday, Jill."

If I recall correctly, that was the first time he wished me a happy birthday. It was hilarious because he never said it in all the years I had known him.

But now that I'm gone, he said it.

On the same day last year, I arranged a feast at home. He invited me to the workplace before I finished, where he slammed me against the window and did me several times after signing the contract.

I wasn't an exhibitionist, and I was nervous taking it there, but he couldn't care less. He simply behaved out and spewed on me, as if I were a hole.

The alcohol's effect was enormously enhanced in the dark. It would be a lie to suggest that I was uninter