Things I'll Never Say

Everything I Never Expected

I checked the clock; it's 4:57. That meant Mike should be getting home any minute now. Everything was in place. That is, I think everything was. The steaks were in the oven keeping warm and I had the mash potatoes in a serving bowl, already set out on the table with a fresh table cloth and pitcher of cold lemonade. I had just folded the last bit of laundry and the dishes were clean and set. Still, it wasn't enough. I continued pacing our freshly clean linoleum floors, wracking my brain as to what else I needed to do.

Looking down, I realized I still had my apron on and I hadn't changed out of my work clothes. "That's it," I muttered to myself as I ran up the stairs to quickly get changed into more appropriate attire. I hung up the apron on its hook and slid off my jeans and shirt, putting on a black, a-line dress with red heals to match. "Please don't come home yet," I prayed as I looked I'm the mirror and realized I had neglected to put on makeup. In a rush but also desperately needing to look perfect, I hastily put on some mascara and a light touch of red lipstick, his favourite. Of course, my skin had to look perfect for him so I fumbled through my drawer for concealer. I've never been one of those people who feels the need to wear pounds of make up for home, but he loved that perfect looking girl. So, with that bruise on my face from the night before, make up was very necessary. After applying an ample amount, I did a once over in the mirror so I knew what kind of comments to expect. Still, something felt missing. As long as I didn't make him mad, nothing else would matter. I really needed to make a good impression tonight; things hadn't gone so well last time...

Just as I placed my hand on the doorknob to open it, I felt it turn in my hand and slam open. The backside of my hand was thrusted into the wall, which caved in on impact. I lost my footing and fell, but I looked up all the same and saw his deep blue eyes, the same ones I fell in love with for the first time just last year, now filled with anger and resentment. "Running a little late, huh? Didn't I ask you to be ready for me at 5:00 sharp? I'm a busy man, Demi. You had all day to get ready. I don't even ask that much of you and this is what I get in return?"

His voice wasn't loud at all. In fact, it was calm. Calm, that is, for a terribly strong man who was trying his best not to lay his hands on his wife. My hand slid down from the wall as he let go of his from the knob. I took a glance at my palm for just a second; it was bruising already. "I'm sorry. I was just about to walk dow-"

"Save it. I don't want to hear your excuses. So...did you clean the floors, as I asked?"

"Yes."

"Laundry? Dishes? Plant the flowers? Mow the lawn?"

"Yes."

"Dinner? Did you make enough for us all?"

"Yes. It's keeping warm in the oven now."

He rubbed his face with his hand with an expression that showed he was trying to find something I failed to do. "How about drinks?"

"I made fresh lemonade. It's all set on the table."

I stayed on the floor, looking up at him to gain his approval. Instead, he laughed. "Lemonade? Really?"

"Yes, is there something wrong?" I began to feel worried as his expression changed to something dark and serious.

"I don't know, Demi. You tell me. I am having over people from my work with their wives. These are important people, Demi. And you decide lemonade would be appropriate, as if we're having some sort of picnic or something!"

His voice escalated into a yell.

"I'm sorry..what do you want me to get you? I'll go right now," I offered, desperately, standing up to leave.

"Get us some damn alcohol, Demi! Use your brain everyone once in a while, will ya? Dumb bitch.."

He muttered the last under his breath, and I realized then that he had nothing more to say to me. I cautiously went to slip by him and head out the door, but I was halted by a firm slap on the cheek. I turned my head, my eyes barely level with his chest, me I waited. His tough hands grabbed me by the jaw and jolted my head upward. "No kiss goodbye?" Mike smiled.

I leaned upward and kissed him; but no love or passion escaped my body, nor was any received. Instead, the first tear fell, and I turned to leave again. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I grabbed my purse and proceeded down the stairs.

"You better be back in 10 minutes! And wipe that damn frown off your face before you come back inside!"

With that, I shut the front door and headed out along the sidewalk to the store. Holding my swollen hand to my cheek, I prayed the pain would stop. But, in my heart, I knew it wouldn't. It never did. It just kept coming, overwhelming my life, and overpowering me. All the same, I knew that when I would come back to the house, even after being tired from walking and dreading the return to the chaos, that I would have that big smile on my face, ready to please. And Mike knew it too. He controlled me, and we both knew it. I just wished I had known from the start. Because, once you get wrapped into it all, there's no escaping.