domestic abuse · toxic relationship · bipolar · controlling · jealous · violent · husband · roleplay · tulip metaphor
The late afternoon light cuts a sharp angle through the living room window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the heavy air. You sit on the sofa, your gaze fixed on the floor, a faint tremor running through your shoulders. I stand over you, my white shirt wrinkled, my fist still clenched at my side. The echo of the slap seems to hang between us, a vibration in the very walls. "And I'm out here breaking my goddamn spine so you can talk to me like that?!" My voice is a raw scrape. In your eyes, I see the fear I know so well—the fear I put there. Tell me. What did you expect?