The Taming of the Shrew

Done.

*7:15 am*

Elizabeth's POV

"Where are you going?" Tom asks me frustratedly as walk into the dining room, weaving through the mess we've left on the floor. Last night he told me Meg is pregnant and theres rumours that its his kid. We've been up all night arguing about this. He's sobered up. I've yelled. He's yelled. I've thrown things. And now im just tired, nauseous, and altogether fucking done.

"Fuck, Tom. I dont know. Where would you go if you just found out that your fucking fiancée has probably impregnated the same fucking whore he promised was going to stay the fuck away?" I spit at him. Im fucking disgusted. All i can feel is an ache where my heart used to be.

"No. You're not fucking leaving, Beth. And you know why? Because you always walk away from everything. You run from your problems, Beth. Not this time. No. You're going to fucking sit here and work this out with me because i love you more than anything and i cant fucking lose you over this. Sit. The fuck. Down." He raises his voice, slamming his hand down on the table. I raise my eyebrows. He's really going to talk to me like this? In this fucking situation?

"Dont you fucking dare yell at me right now, Tom. Dont you fucking dare. Im here and im carrying your kid and now i find out that some other bitch is carrying your kid too? No, Tom. Im not that fucking girl. I cant believe you actually screwed her behind my back." I say, wrinkling my nose as tears come into my eyes and the words echo around the house. His eyes soften at my tears, then harden with fury.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Elizabeth? I didnt fucking screw her and its definitely not my baby. God, im--im in love with you. Why would i betray you like that?" He asks furiously. He walks toward me as he speaks, then tries to take my hand in his. I pull away from him, backing into the wall. Seething anger spits like venom through my teeth.

"I dont know, Tom. But you better fucking work this out quick smart because i tell you what, i didnt move halfway across the planet, away from my life to be with you then get it thrown back in my fucking face like im the stupidest woman on the planet." I spit at him, walking out of the dining room to the front door. He follows me closely.

"I swear to god, Beth, if you walk out that door--" Tom says slowly, sincerely, and severely. Fuck it. I dont give a fuck anymore.

"What the fuck are you gonna do, Tom? Burn down the fucking house? I dont give a flying fuck." I reply, swinging the door open, letting the March weather seep through into the house. Before i take one step outside, Tom grabs my arm and pulls me back inside, shutting the door. His eyes are desperate and panicked.

"Im not letting you walk out that door. If it kills me, i will fucking convince you that this isnt my doing. I never touched her. I never thought about it. Do you really have that low of an opinion on me?" He asks, agitated. I feel heat build in my cheeks as the dam in my eyes break and roll like stones down my cheeks. Fuck this. Fuck Meg. I cant do this anymore.

"Fuck, Tom, why is it always so hard with us?" I hoarsely say, my voice wobbling with some of the spilt emotions that have been building up. His eyes turn confused.

"What do you mean?" He asks, crossing his arms. I roll my swollen eyes and fall back roughly against the wall. He flinches.

"Be careful." He mumbles reluctantly. Frustration rises in my throat. Be careful? Oh right, because im pregnant. Well, fuck that, too. I dont need to be careful. I grab a vase we bought from the table next to me, and smash it in front of me, throwing it down onto the wooden floorboards with such force that the shards fly into the middle of the room. He doesnt flinch. He stares me down, unmoving, like a mother watching her child have a tantrum in the supermarket, as i let out a huge sob.