It Feels Fatty

The thought of Daniel makes my skin itch. It burns behind my eyes and clouds all my thoughts. There are days when the hate bleeds into all that I do. It makes me unable to parent, consumes all my compassion, and turns my energy to ash. On those days, I spend my evenings slumped on a shapeless sofa, like a warrior robbed of a battle they felt for sure they could win. He hurts my sister, always, and in new and creative ways. His greed and jealousy burn her skin every time he touches her. There have been seven years of Daniel, and I suspect at least seven more.

It started in London, where they were working together, both Physiotherapists. Laura was drawn to him, like dress pins to a magnet: flying through the air as if gravity didn't factor. She became obsessed, though she tried desperately to suppress how she blushed at the thought of him. He intoxicated her, his poison manifesting itself in every muscle fibre, every vein, and artery. You can smell it in every breath she exhales. 

The signs of rot were there from the start, though to the untrained eye, they were not immediately obvious. The weight started to melt away from Laura like icebergs splintering and breaking away from a once great glacier. When they first met, Laura and I spent a weekend together. She spent hours clutching her phone, nervously awaiting his response. He accused her of lying, secretly spending the weekend with her Ex. All of her protests of innocence, all of her evidence, were silenced without consideration. Emotionally, she was torn apart, completely incapacitated. I told her that weekend that Dan had demons too big for her to tackle, it's best to let him go now and spare herself the heartbreak. My words met a similar stony silence to her own. 

Later that year, she confided in me that, on several occasions, he had lost his temper and pushed her. Dan is 6ft 4 and a semi-professional rugby player, Laura's frame resembles that of a small deer. It is her feeling that we should all accept a level of abuse from Dan, given the trauma he experienced growing up – it is true, that in his childhood he had been both neglected and abused but I struggle to find any compassion for that now. Later still, she sought my advice. Were these women on social media claiming to also be in a relationship with Dan to be believed? I mean it's not unusual to have one 'crazy Ex', but three? It seemed unlikely that they were all liars. One woman claimed she had spent the night with Dan the same day Laura had traveled to attend our Grandmother's funeral, and he had been unable to take the day off work to support her. It seemed uncanny she had managed to guess a date when Laura would not have been at home.

One day I received a message from Laura informing me she was pregnant. It was unexpected. She didn't know how to feel or how Dan would react. We mused excitedly about the sex, the name, and the change that a little one could bring about. She told Dan while out walking together. He hugged her and asked: 'If it was a boy could we name him Arthur, after my Grandfather?' Who had been a surrogate Dad to Dan, emplace of his father, who was a world away from competent. Giddily she agreed and they continued to walk hand in hand through the autumnal suburbs of London. 

The excitement was short-lived. Dan shifted, insisting that after their four years together, it was too soon to know if he was serious about her. He demanded she sacrifice their baby or she would never see him again. Laura was devastated by his change of heart but she continued to choose him before all else. His rot continued to spread through her, dulling her eyes and deadening her voice. Laura's abortion didn't work, she became extremely ill and required surgery to terminate the pregnancy. The procedure left her weak and sad. 

The relationship became increasingly hostile while Laura grieved for her baby. One night, the fighting became so vicious that Dan stabbed her in the thigh with the stem of a wine glass. The wound required stitches, and he left her at the door of A&E, fearing his arrest if he escorted her further. She confessed this to me much later. By then, the wound was healed, leaving a hot red scar on her otherwise flawless skin. 

The following year, they moved to Manchester. Laura had been offered a new job there, and they felt it would be the fresh start they needed. To move away from the bitterness that now squatted in the poky London flat with them. They stayed in a quaint country cottage and explored their new surroundings. They quickly made friends and cemented themselves into the community. Manchester was a tonic. They decided to buy a house, rooting themselves there permanently. I missed my sister terribly but was always excited to hear about her northern adventures. Our lives were good.

The house is a Victorian townhouse, it's tall and narrow, beautiful but harsh. It mimics Laura in that way. They had great plans to renovate it and were soon hard at work, demolishing every room making way for a new era. The first room they finished was their nursery, and they now had a beautiful baby girl to occupy it. Anna became the pivotal point of Laura's whole universe, everything she does now is for Anna, and she does so much! Feeling dejected, Dan was quick to find refuge in the arms and between the legs of other women. 

When lock-down came, work on the house ground to a dusty halt, and as it settled the cracks appeared in both the plaster and their relationship. Laura confronted Dan about yet more messages she had found from girls online, reminiscing about their steamy secret nights together.

"I'm sick of finding out like this!" She spat in the way only a sleep-deprived new mum can. "Is there anyone else I need to know about?" Dan hesitated with cowardice before admitting there was. While living in London, Dan had a long-term affair with a married woman, old enough to be Laura's mum. She was a patient of Dan's, and easily manipulated by the charm of a much younger man. She had succumbed to the rot in the same way Laura had. She left her husband on the promise of a life with Dan. However, Dan always had an excuse not to be with her. Laura was too fragile to leave, he couldn't get out of their rental agreement, etc. To secure his affection, she allowed £30,000 to be taken from her – all of the money she had received in her divorce settlement. The money is now gone, evaporated into nothingness. 

Throughout lock-down, Dan was unable to keep his mistress occupied – with Laura now always in the house. She phoned the police, claiming she had been robbed and rightfully accusing him of malpractice. He was suspended from work without pay and later arrested. He confessed to this as Laura sat and nursed their 1-year-old daughter. 

The news broke Laura: her temporary peace leaked through the cracks in the floorboards until it all drained away. All that was left of it was the smell of it, to remind her of what life had been like for just a few sweet months. When probed, Dan claimed he had no other option than to bed this woman, as he was hurt and lost after Laura's termination. When she told me this, I told her he was flicking piss at her. I'm not sure where the words came from but I stand by them. 

Much time has passed since then, Dan has retrained as a quantity surveyor and Laura has had another baby girl. Both girls are gorgeous, inside and out. I never anticipated feeling such ardent love and loyalty for children that weren't mine. Laura is determined to cling to Dan like a limpet on an ugly rock, but somehow, they seem to be healing, or at least imitating healing. Laura stopped confiding in me when she realised she hated the feedback she got. Now I only know about instances that overflow out of her, that she can't contain all by herself. 

Recently, he pushed her into a fridge bruising her ribs and the minds of the little girls that watched him. He taunts, lies, cheats, pushes, and burns her flawless skin with every touch. I hate him…

I don't fall for the charm: I see plainly through the lies: I reject his artificial persona. I know too much. I hate him. My words puncture the page like a wine glass punctures a thigh. It feels fatty. I see you, Daniel Wright, for the parasite you are, and now everyone else will see you too.