3-Usuals

Lola-On the morning of Friday, the 23rd

I wake to the most sensual kisses on my body and feel loved. A smile spreads across my face as Nathan trails his mouth down my chest licking my nipples. He gently works my shorts off and nuzzles my core with his nose, making me squirm from the soft contact. I feel his breath on my skin and gasp as the temptation drives me wild.

“Well, good morning,” I whimper to his actions.

“It’s about to be,” he growls into my thigh.

My wish from last night is coming true, making my heart flutter. Nathan moves my underwear to the side and kisses my lower lips passionately, driving me wild. The electric buzz has me moaning in pleasure and begging for more.

The warm feeling of his mouth lapping up my juices and worshiping me is divine. I curl my fingers into Nathan’s silky hair keeping him in place and riding the wave of euphoria. If he keeps going like this, I will explode. I shiver, feeling it on the horizon.

But it’s crushed when a loud ringing ruins our blissful moment. We both growl in frustration at the interruption. I know it’s not mine, slapping my hand on the nightstand and bringing Nathan’s phone to my face. I sneer in contempt at the incoming call from his boss and throw it onto the bed.

“We will finish this later,” he promises, giving me a toe-curling kiss before answering it.

“I’m holding you to that,” I whisper on his lips.

I lay my head on his shoulder and run my finger the length of his smooth tone chest. Moments like this are lovely, with him smiling down at me, and I can feel his love. I know it tickles when he interlocks and kisses our fingers to stop.

However, the mood in the room shifts dramatically as I hear Nathan getting lectured for not doing something at work. He pulls away from me, getting defensive, saying the crew assured him someone had completed the task. He is responsible for ensuring so, Nathan’s reminded by the angry man.

The conversation goes nowhere as Nathan’s temper takes over. He beats the mattress with a closed fist, making me jump. I move away slowly, glad it wasn’t my fault this time, but I also don’t want to get hit while he yells into the receiver.

Nathan’s anger is swimming off of him in waves as he finally gets out of bed, hanging up the phone. He bitches about his stupid boss momentarily and stomps out of the room. I hear the water running and him banging around in the bathroom now.

“Hurry up, or I can’t drop you off at work,” Nathan yells, getting into the shower, more angry than usual.

I physically sigh and topple onto the bed, whining into my pillow in frustration. Why can I only get five minutes of happiness at a time? That was one of the sweetest moments we’ve had recently, and now it’s ruined, making me glum.

“You better be getting ready, Lola!”

Annoyed, I roll my eyes at Nathan’s harsh tone and get started. Now suddenly, we’re rushing to leave after our failed sexcapade. Thankfully, I bathed last night, and all I need to do is get dressed.

I wiggle into my uniform while making us to-go cups of morning brew. I’m not too fond of coffee. I prefer cocoa. However, the intense aroma wakes me, helping to wash away the fatigue and morning haze. I stir in the sugar, focusing on the swirling spoon.

The black pool of liquid helps to hypnotize me into place, but I can’t block out Nathan’s rantings. I hear him cursing and hitting the wall. His behavior makes me nervous, fearing I might be next, demanding I get his things ready.

I stare down at the mug, trying to settle my nerves. But the dark roast reminds me of how the endless gloom of this relationship has swallowed me whole. I feel like a helpless maid more than a loved girlfriend.

“Did you do what I asked?”

“Yes, I laid out your clothes and made you some coffee,” I yell as Nathan exits the bathroom.

“Dammit, I didn’t ask for that, Lola,” he spits my name as if it were a curse, “you’re just wasting time!”

Feeling useless, I turn off the coffee pot and finish my task. I grab a lid when Nathan stumbles into the kitchen wearing his work shirt, half untucked with wet hair. I shake my head; of course, he’s still a mess.

I wish Nathan would take pride in his appearance and at least shave. I’m tired of getting razor burns from his rough kisses. But I will never say that.

“I’m ready. Now let’s go,” Nathan commands from the hall after putting on his shoes.

“Don’t forget your tool belt this time,” I remind him, and he scowls at me, unmoving.

Here I thought I was being helpful, silly me. I ignore his glare and tie my hair in a bun, tucking the loose strands behind my ear. I put on the wrist brace, tightening the velcro straps into place. I inhale a sharp breath as pain shoots up my arm from the ache in my hand.

“Just hurry the fuck up,” Nathan snaps, grabbing his tools from the hall closet.

When I look at Nathan, he turns up a menacing brow but doesn’t remark and no doubt doesn’t care. I’m not surprised. He never apologizes for hurting me these days. I don’t know which is worse, the abuse or Nathan’s lack of empathy, but I’m an idiot for putting up with it either way.

“I said now, Lola!” he barks, slamming the door closed, and stalks out the front exit, waiting outside while I collect my things.

“I’m coming. I have to get my shoes,” I say, holding them under my arm, “see, it took two seconds.”

I lock the door behind us when Nathan spins me about to face him. His glare is intense, squeezing my arm firmly. I’m frozen with fear as the sting of his other hand slaps my head—no doubt punishing me for talking back. I should know better by now and have brought this one on myself.

“Don’t talk back to me. I said to hurry up. I’ll catch shit if I’m late again,” Nathan snarls in my face, “and I still need to pick up, Daniel.”

I stare at the dingy floor to keep from crying. If I raise my hand to soothe the ache, Nathan will only hit me again. I’m saddened that the day started so well, and now this. I straighten up, swallowing my pain, heading for the stairs.

“I’m sorry, now let’s go,” I put my shoes on as we ran out of the building.

It’s the same routine every morning. Nathan stresses out about giving his coworker, Daniel, and me a ride to work. I can always take the bus, but Nathan insists on driving me when going in that direction anyway.

Daniel, his best friend, lives near the restaurant. Their work site isn’t much further than that. Nathan’s letting the call get the better of him, making his temper tantrum a waste of time.

Our drive downtown is silent and full of traffic. After a long detour, we reached the diner, but I was already twenty minutes late. If Nathan’s tardy, I hope it doesn’t aggravate him more than he already is. I apologize and get out quickly without a kiss goodbye because he’s on the phone again.

I watch Nathan’s truck speed off, narrowly missing another car at the exit. I sigh, realizing he’s not even drunk right now and still driving crazy. I shake my head, enter the restaurant, and put up my purse.

An hour into work, I’m boiling with anger; this new bitch, Brandy, is taking all my good tables and pocketing my tips before I can collect them. She’s a blonde bimbo, as far as I can tell. But I realize my bitterness may be affecting my judgment.

I’ve already complained and will throttle her before the shift ends if she doesn’t stop. Being late doesn’t give her the right to keep part of my section as her own and steal my hard-earned money.

During my meal break, I eat my crappy house salad and sulk. I scoff angrily, knowing I must work extra shifts to make rent this month. I only have a hundred in cash at this point.

I can’t expect Leon to help me again. He has a baby on the way in six months and shouldn’t worry about me and my issues. I munch on a cucumber, angry at myself for even asking him the first time.

Nathan will also help me with my bills, but he wants us to discuss moving in together. That’s too stressful, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it, if at all. With that thought, I have lost my appetite.

When I returned to work, Brandy was finally on her break, making me sigh in relief. I shimmy to the Hostess’s desk to fix this mess, telling Mia to reassign my section.

“Will do, Lo. I didn’t do that, to begin with,” Mia remarks, pointing out it’s not her handwriting, “Brandy changed it herself.”

“She’s such a cunt,” I whisper, and we giggle like schoolgirls.

It’s only mildly embarrassing that our cackles carry over the noise of the diner. Several watchful eyes turn to stare at our playful laughter, making us chuckle more. Fun encounters like this are why I love Mia, and I’m lucky to have her as a friend to lift my spirits.

I scan my tables, having a single at two, a couple at four, and a family at booth eight. I put on my peppy game face and fake waitress voice, walking over with a smile. I’m feeling more confident heading back to work.

I start with the family, so their order comes out first. I also give the kids extra coloring pages and crayons while waiting. The couple prepaid to-go, so that’s easy, and they left me a nice tip. The single is preoccupied but still responds to my approach.

“Coffee with cream, but I’ll be ordering soon,” she says, typing away on her phone. “I’m still waiting for my lunch date.”

“No problem, I’m Lola. Just ask for me,” I say, filling her glass with water.

“Thanks, beautiful. I will,” the customer winks at me, and her kindness perks me up.

The way this gorgeous customer is staring has me fluttering inside. Her smile is quite lovely, making her blue eyes pop. She grins even wider when I bring over her cup with extra creamer.

I’m sure she’s been here a few times. I’ve seen her talking to Tobias. But that wink of hers sends another wave of tingles down my spine, but I shrug it off as I attend to my tables, grabbing more orders. While packaging napkins with silverware, I smile, hearing my boyfriend’s echoing voice with the door’s chime.

Taking off his hat, I noticed Nathan’s aggravated, but that’s common with work. Daniel’s less grumpy, eyeing me seductively as he breezes by to sit. Seeing him and Daniel, I wave them to table nine.

“Hey babe,” Nathan says, taking his seat.

“Late lunch?” I question, moving some matted hair from his forehead.

“The boss had us running around all morning, couldn’t be helped,” he admits. “This break is the first chance I’ve gotten to relax,” he says, placing my hands on his shoulders.

Working construction, they mostly live in his truck and are on the road often, so I understand his frustration. I try to comfort Nathan with a quick rub and soothe him with my voice.

“Hopefully, you’ll feel better after you eat,” I offer a kiss on his cheek.

Seeing this as an invitation for more, Nathan grins, pulling me into his lap. He shamelessly gropes my breast before Daniel, ignoring how uncomfortable it makes me feel. I try to bat Nathan’s hands away, hoping no one can see this.

“Nice, I think she likes it,” Daniel smirks.

Daniel knows how much I’m not too fond of this type of attention. His comment emboldens how much I despise him, but I must tolerate his presence because of Nathan. They are always together, making me wish I had backup.

How could I dare subject someone else to this treatment? It’s bad enough that I have to deal with this. Better to suffer alone and fend for myself.

“Nathan, I’m at work. Please,” I grit through a fake smile, my body tensing.

“Come on, babe, I need a little more,” he roams a hand up my leg, and I stop him before he gets too high.

“I’ll sit and have a small break with you in a few minutes,” I plead, struggling to escape, “now let me bring your meals.”

Nathan ignores me like usual. His persistence is bothersome, especially here. I don’t want to get angry and raise my voice at work, giving him a stern look instead. He snorts irritatedly, twitching his upper lips to show he’s unamused and slowly becoming aggravated with me.

“Please, Nathan,” I whisper, terrified his rage will pay a visit.

“Fucking fine,” he huffs.

He always does this, making me feel foolish, and now I look like a mess. Finally, he let me get up and straighten my dress to leave, but Daniel stopped me.

“You’re no fun, Lola,” he says, flashing me a repulsive grin as he rubs a calloused hand up my leg.

Daniel licks his lips, looking at me like an appetizer on the menu. He boldly tries to push his hand up my dress’s hem. Both actions make me feel sick to my stomach as my skin crawls.

“Not you, too,” I quickly slap him and his unwanted attention away.

Daniel has this boyish charm, but how his eyes travel over me creeps me out. Plus, he’s constantly fanning the flames of Nathan’s abhorrent behavior. They both think they can get away with anything because they’re good-looking. Why are men like that?

I managed to get away unscathed and put their orders in. Afterward, I returned to collect the plates from table six and check on the single at two. The customer’s date isn’t here, and she looks pretty upset.

“Hi there, are you ready to order,” I ask, on my approach.

“Yes, thank you. I’m getting stood up,” the elegant woman says, looking defeated.

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to be sincere, but she waves me off.

I know that feeling all too well, glancing over at Nathan. Not dwelling on it, the lovely woman orders a chicken salad sandwich and tortilla soup to-go—two of my favorites. As an added treat, I’ll bring her a cookie with her meal, which should bring her smile forward.

I pin my tickets at the order window and ask for table nine’s food. Mr. Mason informs me that Brandy has already taken it. I growl internally. Of course, she did that twat. I hate her, but again I won’t say that aloud.

“Thank you, sir, and sorry about last night,” I start to say, but he furrows his brow.

“Miss Lola, please never apologize, not for him,” he gives me a soft smile. “A real man knows not to act that way,” he exclaims and returns to cooking.

I worry Mr. Mason knows something about Nathan and my relationship. I see it in his worried expression. Being a father, I’m sure it’s hard for him to bite his tongue and not say anything.

He’s too polite to ask and doesn’t pry as others do. But I’m not his daughter. He’s aware of that fact and stays quiet for both our sakes. The last thing I need is more judgment, shaking out my thoughts, and sulking back to work.