me home until t

llow and my foot propped up. He walked in, dropped his keys on the entr

asked, his voice laced with

t say anything. I just lifted my injured arm, th

of something-guilt, maybe-crossed his face b

grumbled. An hour ago, he' d te

zed by his anger. It was like a distant

the bedroom," I said. "I

He sighed heavily and sat down on the other end of the couch, loo

difficult decision, Mark stoo

y single meal. I wanted to take care of him, to make sure he wasn' t t

of pasta with tomato sauce was ready. He walked over and, without a

t tell him I wasn' t hungry. I obediently picked up my fork and at

only make simple things like this," he said, almost de

as l

d a picture of it on her private social media, a proud declaration of his affection. A beautiful seared salmon with aspar

bites. I was full quickly. I put down my fork

to continue this strange performance

ol. My arm hit the bowl on the table, sending it crashi

I just forgot you were injured, and I didn' t finish treating your

I said. It w

not mad? Your old tantrums didn' t work on me, and now you want to use this cold should

Lily, I was no longer a girl. Every time he mentioned it, I used to react, getting into huge fights w

dn' t cry. I

er thought that way. You ca

henever we fought, he would be the one to kick me out, telling me to sleep on the guest

ily, he shot up from his chair an

sh!" he snarled, dragging

n us. He was there because my foot was injured and he felt some misplaced sens

ept. It gave me a sense of security. But tonight, wit