I didn’t.
Because suddenly I wasn’t sitting at dinner with my mother’s new boyfriend.
I was sitting across from someone from my past.
Back then, I worked part-time at a little bookstore downtown.
Marcus was my manager.
I was also dating a man named Tyler.
If you’d asked me then, I would have told you Tyler was protective.
He picked restaurants because I “took forever.”
He chose movies because I “always picked weird ones.”
He corrected my clothes before parties.
He called three times if I didn’t answer once.
I didn’t recognize controlling behavior for what it was.
I simply got used to saying:
“Whatever you want.”
One afternoon, Marcus was rearranging the front display.
He held up two books.
“Which one?”
I shrugged.
“Whatever.”
He didn’t move.
“Which one, Jeannie?”
“Either.”
“I didn’t ask which one wouldn’t upset civilization.”
I laughed.
He held the books up again.
“What do you want?”
I looked at them.
“The blue one.”
“Great.”
He put it in the window.
It should have meant nothing.
Except Marcus kept doing it.
Coffee order.
Work schedule.
Display signs.
Music.
“What do you think?”
“What do you want?”
“Which do you prefer?”
