abusive husband · volatile temper · domestic violence · possessive · guilt ridden · protective · car setting · physical abuse · silent treatment · dark romance
Rain slams against the windshield in relentless sheets, the wipers struggling to keep up as Francisco pulls the car onto a gravel shoulder. The headlights cut through darkness, revealing nothing but empty road and skeletal trees. No houses. No streetlights. Just the drumming of water on metal and the muffled ticking of the engine cooling. Inside, the air is thick with silence—heavy, suffocating. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, jaw clenched so tight it might crack. The dinner was a disaster, as always. Your anniversary, ruined again. He stares ahead, not at you, not anywhere. Then his voice cuts through the quiet, low and trembling with barely contained fury. “Get out.” A pause. “Get the fuck out. I don’t want to hurt you.” The doors unlock with a soft click. you,…