Phone Venom

"I'm sorry, where is this all coming from?!"

I hated arguing. Hated arguing on the phone. Hated arguing in public. So arguing on the phone in public was worst case scenario for me.

My blood was beginning to boil, and I didn't have a face to focus my anger on. Instead I started pacing the train platform, sucking on my cigarette and ignoring the judgmental faces of the other commuters.

"This is hardly coming out of the blue for you; last week you told me you were planning on loaning it to your sister and now..."

"It's my car I can sell it if I want." I cut him off.

He hated being interrupted, and I knew that. But, if he was going to call me at the train station to start an argument then you could bet I would be interrupting him.

"We have joint bank accounts Liz, any financial decisions you make impact me too. A little consideration on your part would've been nice."

I could hear the bite in his voice now. He wasn't an angry man by nature, but over the last few weeks I could feel the bitterness start to settle in him. Now it could take the littlest thing to set him off. An unwashed dish or a sideways glance was enough ammunition for him to start a "discussion" as he put it. I preferred to call them what they were; Arguments.

"I really don't see how this affects you..."

"....Because it's me who'll be driving you an hour to work every morning if you don't have a car! How're you going to get around if..."

"That's why I'm at the train station at half six in the morning you fucking twat! Don't talk down to me like I'm a child!"

My cheeks burned with the sideways stares of those witnessing my very public meltdown. But I couldn't concentrate on them except to give them a scathing look that said "mind your own business".

His voice whinged down the phone as he leapt to his own defense, but I wasn't really hearing what he said. All I heard was the blind fury in his voice at me for calling him a fucking twat.

Fair enough I suppose.

"...keep acting like a child?! Honestly Liz, you need to..."

I had torn through my cigarette without even noticing. I lit another.

"...no need to talk to me like that when I just want you to fill me in on what you're planning when it affects the two of us!"

"Selling my car doesn't affect you, Damien. And why were you going through my paperwork at half six?" I spat back.

He sighed down the phone. I could picture him now, sitting at the kitchen table in his pajamas with a coffee and my paperwork spread out in front of him, leaning back with his eyes closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was frustrated.

But it had never been me before. Up until recently I had never been the cause of that pinch, and I felt a twist in my chest.

"Christ, you really think I would go through your fucking paperwork while you're at work? I got an email to say money had been deposited into our bank account and I checked what it was for. Fucks sake, what do you think of me?!"

"I don't know what I think of you at this point, you never struck me as someone who gave a shit about what I do with my own life! What's your fucking problem, you've been jumping down my throat for any reason recently and I'm sick and..."

"You really think after everything that just happened I don't care about you? Liz, I..."

"Don't you dare bring that into this, Damien."

I went stone cold. Tried to level my voice so that he would be able to hear how serious I was being. I felt my legs give slightly and I lent myself against the wall.

"Okay, you're right, I didn't mean it like that I just..."

The train screamed into the station and drowned out the rest of his words.

It was my train. I should be on it to get to work. If I didn't catch that one then I would have to catch the quarter past seven which would make me late. But I couldn't move my legs forward. I was rooted to the spot as the taste of bile slowly crept up my throat.

I saw the other train-goers load on, and then it was gone.

"...Liz? Look, Elizabeth, I'm sorry I didn't mean to bring it up like that. I'm sorry. But you can hardly say I don't care about you or your life. I love you Liz and I worry about you, I just want you to talk to me again, like you used to. Liz? Are you still there?"

There was hardly anyone left in the train station now, I could scream as loud as I wanted down the phone. Could call him any name under the sun if I wanted to. But the rage had left my body as soon as he had mentioned the incident of a couple of weeks ago. Two weeks and three days ago to be exact.

"Liz, just say something for Christs sake!"

Finally, I felt my rage back.

"What the fuck am I supposed to say to you?! Why don't you just speak the fucking truth and admit that you're angry with me about what happened!"

My fingers were trembling and I dropped my cigarette to the floor. I knelt down to pick it up and found I didn't have the strength to stand again.

"How can you say that? Elizabeth, I could never be angry at you for..."

"Do you want to talk more about the car or can this wait until I get home? I just missed my train." I said, trying to keep my voice from wavering.

"You missed your train? Look, stay there and I'll come pick you up, okay? I'm sorry Liz I didn't..."

I hung up the phone.

My breath came in gulps. I wondered why my vision was so blurred until I felt the tears slide down my face.

I was right.

He was pissed off at me. That's what all those pathetic little arguments and off handed comments were about. And maybe I was a little pissed off at him too. I couldn't tell where the hurt started and the anger ended anymore.

I left the train station. I didn't want him picking me up. Didn't want him finding me like this.

I didn't know where I was going, I just knew it was going to be a long walk.