Chapter 2 - The Last Straw

The car’s horn still rang in Samantha’s ears as she staggered onto the curb, her knees were scraped and burning, and her bag lay open on the filthy street, its contents scattered across a puddle of dirty water.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass!” the driver shouted out the window.

Samantha knelt, biting back tears as she gathered her things, weaving between impatient drivers honking because she was still half in the road.

“Get out of the way! Do you have a death wish?”

She stuffed everything back into her bag, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and forced herself upright, holding back tears. Even though her head was pounding, and she was filthy, bruised and still emotionally raw from fighting Jason earlier, she shook it all off and tried to focus.

She picked herself off the floor, made it to her shift, then moved on to the next thing on her agenda, her final class for the day.

Samantha’s head was still buzzing with formulas from class when she shoved the apartment door open with her hip. She’d been trying to remember a passage from her geology notes, so she whispered half the lines under her breath as she sipped a bit of her burning-hot Starbucks.

The first thing she heard was the sound. A high, breathless moan that didn’t belong in her apartment. It was far too loud and pornographic to be mistaken for anything else.

She stepped inside, her bag sliding down her arm until it nearly hit the floor.

There, on her couch that she had bought second-hand with her first tutoring paycheck, Jason was buried balls deep inside a girl from her department. The girl’s head was thrown back, her long nails clawing at Jason’s shoulders as she whined and panted like she was auditioning for a cheap adult film.

“Oh, Jason… harder. God, you’re so much better than---"

Couch girl trailed off when she noticed Samantha walk into the room.

With a wicked, mocking expression on her face, the girl reached up to french kiss Jason, looking Samantha right in the eye as she started taunting between moans, “No wonder she’s so cold, she couldn’t keep you satisfied if she tried---"

Jason’s head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as he groaned obliviously.

“Shut up,” he grunted, lost in the rhythm as he fucked her faster.

Samantha felt something explode inside of her, and for a second, she couldn’t move. Then she set her bag down silently by the door and walked forward steadily, her rage blooming red-hot.

She stood behind them, raised her Starbucks cup, and poured it straight down on their tangled, sweaty bodies.

The girl shrieked, scrambling to her feet as the coffee poured down her hair and streaked her mascara. Jason’s eyes flew open, his rhythm stopping mid-thrust, then he bolted off the couch, grabbing for his jeans.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Samantha’s voice ripped through the apartment.

“Sam! Wait!”

Samantha grabbed the nearest plate off the table and threw it against the wall above them both, where it shattered into a million pieces.

“You psycho bitch!” the girl shrieked, struggling to put her underwear back on. “What is wrong with you?”

“Filthy skank!” Samantha yelled, grabbing another ceramic plate and flinging it at the ground, near the girl’s feet. “In my apartment? On my couch? You think you can crawl in here like a stray dog and fuck my boyfriend?”

Samantha picked up the girl’s heels and threw them at her with all the force she could muster, and to her outrage, the girl ducked to dodge them, screaming her head off and tugging her shirt over her head.

“Jason, help me! Your girlfriend is insane!”

Samantha lunged at her, yanking a fistful of the girl’s hair and dragging her half-dressed across the apartment. Jason tried to intervene, but Samantha shoved the girl towards the door with an inhuman strength fueled by anger, then she flung the door open and pushed the girl out. The girl stumbled out into the hall, running for her life, her arms flailing to cover herself as Samantha screamed after her.

"Next time you even think about showing your face here again, so help me! I’ll kill you!”

The door slammed, and the entire building fell into a hush as all the neighbours strained to listen to the commotion.

Samantha faced Jason. Her chest was heaving, her hands were shaking, sweat ran down her forehead and dripped into her eyes.

“You! You betrayed me in my own home,” she spat, “On my couch. With someone who knows me. While I’m killing myself to pay rent for you.”

“Sam, it’s not what you---” said Jason, still struggling to put his jeans back on.

“Not what?” She snatched up a mug and threw it, aiming for his head. Then another, and another, each one smashing into the wall as he ducked. “Not what? You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t walk in?”

“Sam, please---” He held his hands up, speaking in a low voice. “Sam, I can explain, just list---"

She was screaming so loud her throat burned. “I pay the rent! I bought that couch! I bought your clothes, your shoes, your fucking groceries, and you repay me by dragging some slut in here and screwing her behind my back?”

“I made a mistake, okay? You never have time for us anymore---”

“SO IT'S MY FAULT?!” Samantha chucked yet another glass at him, shaking her head in dissatisfaction as he dodged it.

From the other side of the wall came the neighbours again. “For fuck’s sake, not again! Someone call the cops already!” A fist pounded against the wall.

Samantha stopped hearing them. She stormed into the bedroom, yanking Jason’s things from drawers, from hangers, from shelves, marching them to the window, and flinging them out.

“Sam, stop!” Jason rushed after her, fumbling with his pants.

She stopped to look wildly around the room for anything else of his to throw out, and her gaze fell on the sleek PS5 sitting by the TV, bought with her savings as a birthday gift for him earlier in the year.

She dangled his PS5 from the open window by the cord, her smile stretched wide and manic, and her eyes glittered with hate and contempt. “You love this thing, don’t you, Jason? Spent more time on it and whores than with me?”

Jason’s face drained of colour. “Please, don’t. Not that, Sam...”

Before he could reach her, she let it fall from her hands. They lived on the sixth floor, so the console crashed down to the pavement below, a few passersby downstairs yelled out in shock as they scrambled out of the way.

Jason lunged toward her, his hands trembling. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You cheated on me in my own apartment! With a girl from my department! You humiliated me, Jason, you fucking humiliated me!”

For a split second, he raised his hand as if he might hit her, and the air froze for a moment.

“Do it,” Samantha hissed, standing tall, her eyes locked on his. “Hit me. Add that to the list. Show me exactly what kind of man you are.”

His voice thundered as he made step after threatening step, backing her into the wall, and she retreated, stepping back in fear of what he might do. There were no more plates to throw.

“This is your fault. You made me do this! You don’t give me what I need, so what the fuck did you expect?” With each sentence, he pointed straight at her, digging his fingers into her chest.

“I made you cheat on me?”

“Yes!” he shouted, voice cracking. “You pushed me away! You never have time for me. You treat me like I’m invisible!”

“Because you are!” she screamed back. “Because you’re nothing! You live off me, you drain me, you drag me down, and you dare to blame me when you go to bed with the first girl dumb enough to believe your stupid, empty lies?”

Jason’s face twisted, and for a moment, he looked like he might argue or beg, maybe even try to touch her again. But then his shoulders slumped, and his voice dropped bitterly.

“Fuck this.”

He shoved past her, pulled his jacket from the hook by the door, and stormed out without looking back or saying another word.

Deafening silence followed.

And then her knees gave out. Hot, uncontrollable tears choked her, and the rage that had fueled her burned out, leaving her small and broken on the ground of the apartment she had built and paid for, alone.

For the first time in months, she let herself cry. She cried because she was tired, because of the exhaustion of fighting every day to keep her life from crumbling, only to realise the one person she thought she had on her side had actually been tearing her down from the inside.

She rocked on the floor, tears soaking into her mud-stained shirt, whispering to herself as she gasped for breath. “Never again. Never again.”