"Open the door, damn it! I know you hear me, and that you've seen that I've called you too many times to count."
Rachel's knuckles knock against the front door of Ace's apartment. Her cheeks are a heated red, her eyebrows are knitted in frustration. She taps her foot impatiently, and lets out a sigh. Before she dials Ace's number again, he opens the door.
Rachel's bitter stare meets his sour eyes. Her lips angle into a frown, and her blood grows hot.
She scowls. "About time."
"You're talkin'? Get inside."
Rachel enters the apartment, and Ace closes the door behind her. The dwelling was squalid and clustered. The pungent smell of half-rotten food and filth was absolutely repulsive. What could have been such a more organized, sterile place, was degraded by lack of care.
"Rachel, what did I tell you on the day I picked you up from work?" Ace asked.
He faces her, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed about his chest.
"That I fuss, that I'm ungrateful, to shut up." Rachel answers with an impertinent retort.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," His voice and character grows darker. "What was the last thing I told you before you left my car?"
Rachel exhales deeply, giving Ace the answer he wants.
She speaks with clenched teeth. "That I should have come over to your house."
"And why didn't you obey me?"
Rachel pushes her phone angrily in her pocket. She feels the tension fester in her mind and body, just like every time before.
"Because I don't have to."
"Oh, yeah? What made you get that idea? You move towns, and all of a sudden you can do what you want?"
Rachel replies with a question. She lifts up her head to look her partner in the eye.
"So, what if that's it?"
"That can't fly by me."
Rachel shrugs and states sarcastically. "It's gonna have to," She pauses before continuing. "Let me start with you're a child. Just because I didn't come over that Friday, means I had to deal with a week and a half of cold shoulder? I've called you and messaged you day in and day out, and I get no reply. I'm not asking you to answer me right away, but this kind of treatment is a stretch."
"Yeah, and your point is?"
"My point is if I did the same thing, I'd be in the same position I am in right now. Feeling belittled and controlled."
Ace argues. "That's your problem, not mine. You obviously didn't care enough to have me around, so I gave you space."
"Don't try to pull the victim card."
Ace picks up a beer bottle, and bashes it against a surface. He approaches Rachel slowly, blackness brims in his eyes.
"I'm not playin' victim, and I never will be the victim. You been acting real bold and fresh, and it pisses me off."
Rachel is quick to respond. "Me speaking up for myself is making you angry? You need to reevaluate yourself."
He nears her face, the stench of tobacco is intoxicating. It reeked through his mouth, nose, and clothes.
"Where were you, and who were you with."
He doesn't ask for an answer, he demands it.
Rachel's brave composure wavers, but she refuses to cower.
"If I wanted to tell you that, you wouldn't have to bother asking me in the first place."
Ace slams his hand on the wall and barks at Rachel.
"ANSWER ME!"
She looks away from his eyes as she talks.
"I was out… with a friend."
Ace hisses. "What. Friend."
"Does it matter?! Why are you so devoted to knowing about my life when you treat me like crap?" Rachel snaps.
"It does matter, because sumn' doesn't sit right with me. You actin' different, and you couldn't even look me in the eyes when I asked the damn question,"
Rachel huffs, refusing to answer the question.
"You know what? Give me your phone, I'm going to read your messages."
Ace outstretches his hand.
"No."
"Give it to me, right now."
Rachel pushes Ace away, and starts opening the door. He yanks her back by the arm, and pulls her over to the kitchen table.
"Let me go, you manipulative, devious, conniving—"
"Your phone, on the table."
"It's my phone, I don't want you to see my phone."
"Why not?"
"Because it's my phone, and that's an invasion of privacy."
"I don't care. Do it."
Rachel grudgingly obeys, putting the phone on the table with force.
"Put in the password, Rachel."
Rachel does as she's told.
Ace scoffs as he scrolls. His eyes are hungry for any suspicion. He opens the call log and reads it closely.
He shakes his head, then clicks somewhere else.
"Garfield, huh?"
"He's just a friend." Rachel's voice is fragile.
"Well, he must be a real good friend if his messages and calls are all over your phone." Ace's eyebrows lower.
Rachel can't find the words to say, and releases a deep sigh.
He gaslights. "You can't even respect the fact that I want you to myself."
"Okay, Ace."
"Where is this "friend" from?"
"None of your business."
"You better bet your bottom dollar it's my business," His lips become narrow, and his eyes glare. "Tell me who this guy is."
"A friend. Let me spell it out for you. F-R-I-E-N-D."
"And what the hell was so important about this guy that you couldn't come over to my place?! Your text messages are telling me everything I know. You were out with him instead of me."
"Exactly, and I am not sorry." Rachel snatches her phone from Ace, then rises from her seat.
Ace commands. "Come back here."
Rachel stops before she opens the door.
She wants to say something, she wants to say so much more. She's worried that if she brings up problems, that she would spark even worse tension than what has already been endured. Rachel keeps most issues to herself, snd is conflict avoidant. She's so exhausted from all of it, she can't move her lips to talk.
"Give me a reason to."