WARNING Mature content Sexual assault and emotional abuse
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He had agreed. He said he loved me. Yet, it didn't feel like it. It didn't feel like it at all.
I mean, I knew he loved me. But it didn't feel like we were okay again. He agreed, he said the words, but he didn't match his actions.
He still felt cold, distant, most of all unwilling.
And I understood that some people needed alone time. My therapist explained to me how people process things differently. So maybe he processes it by being alone. I get that but I feel like at this point his eating away at hisself, blaming himself not processing.
Just like everyday for the past week he's at 'work' right now. Whatever that meant. He'd been on edge all week. Any little noise, any sudden move would throw him off the edge. I can't lie and say that I felt any different.
I think maybe I was just handling it better. Which is odd because he tends to be the one that keeps it together while I fall apart. He's not technically falling apart, at least not on the outside but I can tell deep inside, he's at war.
So I decided to do something for him. For us, really. I'm making his favorite food, prepared his matcha latte and set us a nice little table to eat dinner. A date. We're gonna have a date.
"Your mama and dad are gonna have a date. A date, Rain! You excited baby." I push his head in the shirt. I got him this doggie shirt that says I love my mama.
Don't look at me. He's the one who wanted it. I'm just being a good mama.
"Okay, let's text him, yeah?" I mutter to Rain.
Hi, pretty boy. When will you be home?
Pretty boy 🐿: Just finishing up. Give me 20 minutes. You guys okay over there?
Yup. Nilo Buck and the three other men you sent are still here.
Pretty boy🐿: Okay, be careful. I love you.
Then I quickly get up, put on a white ruffled dress, spray some perfume on— yes, the same perfume he bought eight of. Such a weirdo.
Then I set the table, dim the lights and sit on the couch to surprise him. A few minute later the door is opened, Rain quickly running towards the door.
He walks in, his usual black pant and button up on clothing his figure. I suppose he doesn't see me because he stops at the kitchen counter, his elbows resting on it as he drops his head in his hands. He lets out an exasperated sigh, running his hand down his face.
