Accidental Lover
Point
racing with anxiety. "Emily, he's going to kill me," I whispere
faint scent of mold. Alex had been raging upstairs, his anger and frustration boiling over like a pot left
ily's voice was calm, but I c
bove a whisper, my throat constricted with fear. "He's
but they felt like a distant echo, a reminder of
piercing eyes, the gentle touch. I fell deeply in love with hi
one. A criticism here, a raised voice there. I brushed it off as stress, as
nded earlier that night. It was a charity gala, a sea of tuxedos and
s wife. Alex had been upset, his eyes flashing with
ape, no respite. I wanted to scream, to shout, to break free,
said, her voice firm. "You can't sta
k
in the soul. But I was scared, like a child in
She asked a question that I
d myself that question a lot when
to you la
ve you," she replied,
aging path. A faded scar on my arm served as a reminder
night I'd picked up painting. It was years ago, when the abuse first started. It was a way to express
y hand, the way the colors blended on th
s anger, his control, anymore. I glanced at my latest painting, the col
the last things I held dear in my life. He would
ed me with love and attention. The way he held my hand
ings, the dismissing, the accusing. I brushed it
e fear. I thought it was a one-time thing, that he would nev
ting, losing myself in the colors, the str
gered, a constant reminder of what I
thought about Alex, the man I loved, the man I
scared of what would happen
t racing, I sat up in bed, disoriented. Alex was st
, his voice venomous. "You
all, invisible. But he saw me, his
, expecting the worst. But he just stood there, his chest
r this," he growled, hi
ong. I never knew. But I knew
run, he adv
spect me," he snarled, h
oking back, I realize that our re
looks. He was the star quarterback, and I was a cheerleader. We were
d, gentle, and submissive. Alex, the quintessential college star athlete with the disarming smile, and con
ecame a full-time homemaker. We bought a beautiful house in the suburbs, and I sp
fect. But sometimes, I wonder if
hink about how our relationship had changed over the yea
punches, kicks. I tried to defe
he ground lik
he shouted, his fists hitti
myself, but he just kept hittin
self, leaving me broken a
escape. But how? He had me tra
ame. The apologies. The te
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