Divergent Limit

Divergent Limit

Element 04 - Nothing To Be Done

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November 3rd, Monday

The sound of calm rain tapping against the window made Claire appreciate the warmth of her blanket even more than usual. She had been lying awake for a while now, pondering how safe she felt despite Jason not being in bed with her for the first time in a week. He had asked the night before if she'd be fine waking up alone and of course she had said yes, even though, in all honesty, she didn't know. But she'd have to be able to sleep through the night on her own at some point, so she urged herself to try it today.

Nevertheless, she missed Jason's presence. She had never been in a relationship, or at least not one that involved regularly sleeping in her partner's bed. A handful of dates, two boys she had kissed, that was the full extent of her romantic history. Despite the circumstances of her current situation, she had found waking up next to someone to be nice.

It was 10:18 AM already. Her sleep schedule was slowly getting back to normal. On top of the sexual abuse Mark had put her through, he had also forced her to stay awake for 45 hours. After she returned home exactly one week ago, she had slept from roughly 4 AM to 8 PM in Jason's arms. When she woke up, they had talked through the night, which messed up her sleep schedule even further.

She knew she should get out of bed, but cuddling her googly-eyed Pi-plushie that Jason had left in her arms as a substitute for himself was too seductive. Her comfort was rudely interrupted by a sudden pain, a cramp in her lower abdomen. She got out of bed immediately, and once she was standing, she felt a small gush of liquid leave her body. Despite the pain, she smiled in relief and mumbled:

"Finally..."

Then she hurried to the bathroom.

One shower later, she left the bathroom wearing sweatpants and an oversized sweater she was borrowing from Jason. He was out running some errands, mostly grocery shopping, and she expected him to return soon. She wanted to do something, anything, to be less of a burden to him.

So she began her tour through the small two-room apartment that was Jason's home. Vacuuming the floor? Jason had taken care of that yesterday. Doing the dishes? A brief look into the kitchen revealed they were done already. Making dinner? The fridge sheltered two slices of lasagna ready to be baked whenever hunger struck them. Doing the laundry? No need to even check as the thrum of the washing machine had accompanied her all morning. Taking out the trash? The cans were already empty. Frustrated, she had to conclude: there was nothing to be done.

She grabbed a pen and a spiral pad from her bag in the bedroom, then returned to the kitchen and sat down at the small table with a sigh. For the most part, she had worked through the lectures she didn't attend last week on her own. Diving back into math helped her keep her mind occupied, gave her something to focus on. Only the topology problem set she had wanted to take a look at that Saturday night eluded her.

She opened the file on her phone again. The problems didn't strike her as particularly difficult, but every time pen met paper, her hand didn't move. She simply couldn't bring herself to do it and she knew why.

After going over it multiple times these past few days, she had figured it out. This topology problem set was what was supposed to happen, what should have happened. Solving it meant acknowledging that reality had diverged from the intended path. The text from Eugene she couldn't bring herself to answer posed the same problem.

She closed the problem set and looked at Eugene's message instead. Before she had even read a single word of the actual text, her eyes were drawn to the time stamp: October 25th, Saturday, 11:38 PM. Roughly two and a half hours after they had said their goodbyes. And five minutes after Mark had announced his 27-minute countdown to midnight.

It wasn't fair. Eugene had texted her, happy and oblivious to her fate, while she had to listen to the psychotic ramblings of a serial rapist explaining how he intended to use her to break his personal 24-hour orgasm record. How could these two things exist in parallel? And then there was the message itself.

"Hey Claire, this is Eugene. If you could show me some time this week how I fucked up last week's problem set on compact sets, you'd be a lifesaver! That stuff makes 0 sense to me. Also, I really liked talking to you! If you ever feel like grabbing a coffee or just hanging out again, I'd love that."

It was sweet, earnest interest without entitlement. His text radiated the same golden retriever puppy energy as his first comment about her Maxwell purse back at the Infinite Pint.

What was she supposed to do with this? She wanted to see him again. After all, she had thoroughly enjoyed their conversation on the stairs. But she didn't know if she could see anyone right now. She and Jason had invited Emily to come by later today. Telling her what happened would be difficult enough. But telling a boy she just met? How would that conversation even go?

"Hi Eugene. I'm sorry for ghosting you, but I went through severe trauma immediately after we last talked. If you're still interested, let me know."

That was absurd. If not the truth, she had to tell him something else about why she had taken so long to respond. But even if they did meet again and that date went well, what if he tried to kiss her? Could she handle that? She had no idea.

The sound of the apartment door opening pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Claire?"

Jason called for her, just loud enough for her to hear, not loud enough to wake her in case she was still asleep.

"I'm in the kitchen!"

Following the sound of his steps, she traced Jason's path with her mind's eye. When he walked into the kitchen, he carried two large grocery bags and his hair looked damp. The dark circles under his eyes revealed the toll her presence was taking on him.

"Need any help with that?"

She asked.

"Nah, I got it."

He put the two bags on the table, then gave her a quick look. She had gotten used to his eyes scanning her. He wasn't staring or ogling. He just gave her the occasional glance a parent gives a young child in the next room to make sure everything is okay.

"You look well. Did anything good happen?"

As he took off his jacket, she wondered if she should tell him the truth.

"Got my period."

After everything she had shared with him already, this didn't feel that personal by comparison. Jason stood still immediately. She could see on his face how his brain was buffering.

"... Yay? Sorry, I feel like I'm missing context here."

She averted her eyes.

"I was a few days late."

"I see..."

He hesitated before he continued.

"Oh, should I have bought something for that? Sorry, I'm not used to having a girl living with me. I can go to the store again and get whatever you need."

Her hands clenched into fists.

"I brought my own pads from my place before we came here. I'm not that useless..."

Normally, she used tampons, but pads felt more comfortable now.

"Right..."

He did it again. By her nature, Claire wasn't prone to anger. But recently, she could feel these bursts of rage come over her. Whenever that happened, Jason acted like it was nothing.

"Sorry, that came out wrong. I'm fine."

She apologized. He nodded with obvious worry on his face. Claire took a deep breath.

"I've been here a week now. Is there anything I can do to help? I don't want to be a freeloader."

Jason waved her off and began unpacking the groceries.

"Don't worry about it. You're my friend and my guest."

She bit down on her lip and folded her arms in front of her chest. Why didn't he get this?

"Alright... So, did you buy anything nice?"

She redirected the conversation to a less loaded topic. Jason's face softened immediately.

"Oh, a ton of stuff. But one thing in particular caught my eye."

Claire's posture relaxed as she got curious. Jason reached deep into the bag.

"Ugh, why did they have to put this at the bottom?"

He grunted as if his arm had to dig a tunnel through cement.

"Remember how we used to eat ice cream when we had sleepovers as children?"

He pulled a pint of Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra out of the bag. Then he continued.

"We ate these all the time when we were like... 11 I think? Anyway, I thought it would be fun to revive that tradition when Emily comes by later. Do you know why we stopped eating this? I remember really liking it."

Claire smiled. She remembered very well why they had stopped.

"Oh yeah! You told Kendrick about this great ice cream you were always eating with me. Kendrick laughed his ass off when he heard the brand name and 'informed' you that Karamel Sutra was a pun on Kama Sutra, which he then went on to explain to you in detail."

She could see a grin forming on Jason's face as the memory gradually returned to him.

"You were so embarrassed, I wasn't sure your face would ever return to its normal color. I think after that, you told your mom to never buy it again."

Jason laughed. The tiredness on his face briefly disappeared.

"Oh boy, that sounds like something I might have done back then. I haven't thought of Kendrick in forever. Any idea what he's up to?"

Claire shook her head.

"No clue. His mother got a new job somewhere else shortly after and they moved. I don't think I've heard anything from him since."

"Maybe I should try to look him up later. Would be fun to get in touch with him after all these years."

Jason put the ice cream into the freezer, then grabbed the milk and put it in the fridge.

"Any other surprise purchases?"

Jason thought for a moment.

"Uhh... not sure if this counts as a surprise, but I thought you might like this."

He reached back into the bag and revealed to her a shampoo he bought. 'Almèra', the almond-scented women's shampoo she used to buy.

Her face froze for a second. She gulped once, then stared him down with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"You think this is funny?!"

Jason looked baffled.

"What...?"

Her favorite shampoo. She loved it. Until Mark had used it on her body when he had forced her to shower with him. She never wanted to see it again.

"I asked you if you think this is funny?!"

She jumped out of her chair. Jason immediately took a step back.

"Claire, I don't understand...?"

She took the bottle and threw it through the kitchen door into the hallway.

"Mark used that! How do you even know I bought this before?!"

Jason's eyes briefly followed the trajectory of the shampoo bottle until it landed in the hallway, burst open, and spilled its contents on the floor. The almond scent began to fill the apartment. He returned his gaze to her and raised his hands defensively.

"I... I saw it in the trash can in your bathroom when I took a shower at your place. So when I saw it today in the store... I just thought you might like it. I didn't know..."

She slammed her hands down on the table and leaned forward.

"Did it maybe occur to you to wonder WHY I threw it away?!"

A moment of awkward silence. Jason couldn't hold eye contact. He looked at his feet as he gave his quiet, apologetic reply.

"I... I thought... it was... empty?"

Claire was about to snap at him again.

"Well, yeah, that...!"

Then she suddenly stopped like she had been punched in the face.

"...makes sense..."

All the tension left her body as abruptly as it had come about, and she sank back down onto her chair.

"I..."

She looked at him. He was just standing there, back against the wall, scared and overwhelmed.

"I'm so sorry, Jason."

What had gotten into her? How could she treat him like this? She buried her face in her hands and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry..."

Jason came closer, one cautious step at a time. She felt his hand on her shoulder. A tentative, unsure touch that lacked the naturalness with which he had held her so often these last few days. She grabbed his sweater with both hands and pulled him toward her, hiding her face in his stomach.

"I'm so sorry..."

Jason slowly knelt down and wrapped her in his arms. He pulled her close and gently stroked her hair.

"It's okay."

She shook her head, smearing her tears all over his sweater.

"It's not okay. You deserve better."

She whispered between two sobs.

"Don't worry about it. We all get angry sometimes. Trust me, I can handle a shampoo bottle flying through my kitchen just fine."

She chuckled at his lame attempt at a joke. He kept holding her tight.

"Thank you."

She meant it.