Free Breaking the Cycle by Zane

questioned by or run into an emergency room doctor she had seen before. The level of the handsome doctor’s interest kind of unnerved her.
    “I tried to break my fall. As I started falling down the stairs, I, uh, grabbed the railing and jerked my arm out of place. I was just trying to prevent myself from falling,” Dawn said. She had become a consummate liar. Something she had to become just to maintain her and Todd’s existence. She had to protect Todd. She couldn’t give up on him like everyone else in his life had. She had to stick by him. That was the least that she could do.
    She understood him. He grew up in Queens, and was exposed to a number of things as a child; things even adults should not have been subjected to. Drugs, crime, murder, and prostitution. He truly came from the stereotypical difficult background. He never knew his father, and his mother worked several jobs to keep a roof over his and his three siblings’ heads. Unfortunately, she had died before he turned 16, and Todd was forced into several foster homes, none of which helped to nurture or improve his mentality. Todd managed to graduate from high school and went to Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey, on a dual wrestling and academic scholarship. He excelled there, and became a very high-strung and extremely driven young man. He majored in journalism, where he found his niche. He was exceptionally resourceful at researching and investigating, and wrote a number of award-winning articles for the local newspaper. Todd wanted to succeed, and made that clear to anyone whom he met. Helping him was the least Dawn could do to support him. He didn’t need her bringing him down, too.
    She liked his virility, and his take-charge manner. His strength and disposition kind of reminded her of her father.
    Todd was a short, medium-framed, light brown-skinned man, who always dressed well. His closet was filled with expensive, tailor-made shirts and suits. Italian, soft-leather shoes. He was almost obsessive about his appearance, and went to the barbershop twice a week for a shape-up and hot lather, straight razor shave. But he wasn’t a handsome man. He had small dark eyes, and didn’t have many outstanding features. He had large hands and even bigger feet. But he had the typical “Napoleon Complex.” The short man’s syndrome. He was confident, borderline conceited.
    “He didn’t notice me from a can of paint. Not until the time I saved one of his articles from getting into the wrong hands. It was full of errors. He eventually confided in me that he suffered from dyslexia. He had a girlfriend who had always proofed his work, but they had broken up, so, that’s how the article slipped through. Todd had never learned to type, and wrote everything out in longhand. He would’ve been too through if anyone ever found out,” Dawn said. “Your daddy doesn’t like to be embarrassed. He’s a very proud man. Yeah, he’s really proud.”
    Dawn had caught frightful glimpses of Todd’s arrogance on the job. Whenever something didn’t happen the way Todd thought it should, he would explode. He’d throw a tantrum and sometimes wreck his office in a fit of rage. He often said that the other reporters were “jealous of him,” or that his editor was “playing favorites,” or just plain “out to get him.” Whatever the case was, Dawn found herself sympathizing with him, and eventually falling for him.
    “I liked that he needed me and trusted me enough to share his vulnerabilities with me. We eventually grew very close.”
    They shared everything. Dawn worked long hours to help Todd, and proof his work. Eventually, Todd’s thankfulness turned to love. Over Chinese food in Todd’s cramped little office, once Dawn placed the last key stroke on the third revision of Todd’s overdue article, he hugged her, and she heard his heart beating. The bear hug melted into passionate, urgent gropes and kisses.
    With reckless regard, he shoved the contents