text: The soothing music and bubbling waterfall did nothing to relax me or my bouncing leg. So much for "Zen." I kept my eyes peeled on the front door of the spa and my purse clutched in my lap. The waiting room was empty expect for a receptionist, but he was behind the desk and clearly focused solely on texting. He'd be useless if things went south. I figured I could use that artsy marble statue on the coffee table to bash in any brains if *she* came through the door. *Ding.* The front door opened. My chest tightened. A man with a spray-tan and false-white teeth entered. My muscles stayed tense. "Alice?" a sweet voice asked. "I'm Tiffany. I'll be taking care of you today." Her words were like a reassuring hug I didn't know I needed. My eyes teared up as relief surged through me. I blinked them away. Tiffany led me to one of the back rooms. It was the same comforting soft greens of the waiting room complete with a fiddle leaf fig. Meditative music crooned out of the speakers in the ceiling. The lights were so dim and cozy I wondered how Tiffany stayed awake. She motioned for me to have a seat on the recliner in the middle of the room. I sat, and Tiffany pressed a button on its side. The chair whined as it slowly reclined me. "So looks like we're having a facial today, is that right?" "Yes. I, um, have a coupon." I started to rifle through my purse. "It came in the mail. It, um..." "Oh, no need. Rachel up front will take care of that. For the next twenty minutes, I don't want you to worry about a single thing." Tiffany smiled again, knocking another ten pounds off my shoulders. I teared up again. This time Tiffany noticed. "Oh honey, don't cry. What's wrong?" "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm fine. Go ahead." Tiffany gave me a look, suspicious, but went ahead. She grabbed a syringe filled with clear liquid. "You're going to feel a few little pinches and some numbness, but this will make the whole thing more comfortable." "Needles? Is that necessary?" "No. It's just the facial can get pretty itchy. Our guests find it more comfortable with a itty-bitty numbing agent. We can skip it if you want." "Go ahead, I trust you." She smiled and delicately inserted the syringe into my cheeks, chin, and forehead. "Oof. You got a lot of tension in your forehead. Work troubles?" "I wish." "What's going on?" Tiffany spun to the counter. She poured various powders and liquids into a bowl. "Relationship troubles." "Yikes." "Yeah my boyfriend's ex is... a lot." "Exes are the worst!" Tiffany stirred the gloopy mixture and dabbed it onto my face. Despite the numbness, it felt warm as a cup of chamomile tea. I closed my eyes letting the heat sink into my bones. "What's this bitch doing? Texting him?" Tiffany asked. "Texting him. Calling him. Stalking him. She showed up at his brother's wedding. She drove four hours to crash it." "Jesus. I hope he's getting a restraining order." A weird smell wafted through the air. Iron? I continued, "Oh hell yes. It's in process. He's already blocked her on everything. But now she's resorting to threatening me." "Oh I'm so sorry. We don't have to talk about this." "She spray-painted my office building. 'Give him back or else.' No proof it was her, but who else could it be?" "That's awful." "It gets worse." The iron smell became distracting but being able to vent to a sympathetic ear was too therapeutic. "I found a dead cat inside my car." Tiffany gasped. "Nooooo. I love cats." "I haven't driven it since. I'm afraid she messed with the brakes or -- I think something's dripping." Something wet and warm dribbled on my neck and down my back. "Ope, sorry. It does that." Tiffany tucked a towel around my neck. "God, this whole situation sounds horrible." I nodded, not speaking in case I broke down again. "Have you thought of just leaving him?" Tiffany asked. "I love him." "Yes, but does he love you? Really?" I opened my eyes. She looked at me innocently. "What do you mean?" I said -- or so I attempted. The words came out weird and slurry, my lips uncooperative. Tiffany sighed and offered me a mirror. My spine went cold, and I didn't want to take it. I didn't want to look. "Tiffany...?" my lips struggled out. She shook her head, genuinely forlorn. I touched my cheek, and my fingers sunk through moist flesh, my nails tapping against teeth. Blood dripped down my hand. *My face, my face, what did she do to my face?* I moaned. I couldn't speak, my mouth turned to jelly. The woman held the mirror up for me to see the grotesque, twisted mass now sitting above my neck. She shook her head, disappointed. "You really should have just given him back.