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"Good morning, Namjoon." A voice woke me up. My eyes fluttered and met bright light greeted by the Sun.

I had slept all through the night on the long couch, but now pain shot through my back from stiffness. Amara peered at me from the kitchen, smoke hovering around her face as she spoke to me.

"Breakfast is ready for you. You should eat a bit. You look quite unhealthy." She cringed at the thought of my body, lips curling up. Amara turned the stove off and pulled hot muffins out of the oven. Her appearance seemed to pull me into a state of wonderment. I stood up at her suspiciously. There seemed to be no trace of alcohol in her actions.

"Well, aren't you going to come over and eat?" She laughed at my strange actions and gently patted a seat at the dinner table. I slowly made my way towards the seat, not failing to check my food for hints of any poison that she may have put in it. Chewing slowly, I watched my wife's figure disappear into the hallway before coming out with Hanuel.

"Eat your food, Hanuel." Amara commanded him, smiling. The two year old seemed to be going through the same sort of feeling; bewilderment splashed on his face at her actions. He looked at me expectantly. My eyebrows raised, telling him it was alright to eat.

I savored the spices that danced on my tongue, sighing in contentment. It had been a few weeks, a month really, since I have tasted my wife's cooking. I didn't realize how much I had missed it. Her actions have changed incredulously, but somehow her cooking remained the same.

"What was that long, depressing sigh for? You don't like it?" Her dark, luxurious eyes met mine, quizzically. I took her face in, her sitting across from me, and noticed how she was wearing makeup. Amara was never the type to wear makeup voluntarily. Although, before I had met her, she was going through a dark time in her life which made her change the way she was for acceptance. I could relate to her behavior in innumerable ways, and decided to act upon the chest-tightening feeling I had to help her. I didn't know that that one decision would have lead me here.

"Since when did you start wearing makeup?" I swallowed my food, wiping my mouth. Hanuel's eyes shifted from Amara back to me as we exchanged words. But, he never uttered a word.

"You didn't answer my question." Amara snickered, giving me a dirty look with a touch of disappointment. Her body language changed to a very defensive one. Her bright yellow floral shirt complimented her chocolate skin which radiated beauty and royalty in the room. It was my first time in months seeing her dress up and I was taken slightly aback.

"The food is good." I said unconvincingly, but I meant what I had said. If it hadn't been for my small stomach, I would have ate the whole house. Amara huffed not pleased with my answer. Her shoulders laid low, her eyes daring like a mountain cat ready to pounce on it's prey.

"You don't like it."

"Why are you wearing makeup?" I ignored her statement. Hanuel continued to look back and forth. He had patiently sat down his tiny fork and observed. His peculiarity never failed to intrigue me.

Now, Amara was the one to ignore my question. She snatched my plate and Hanuel's without saying anything and dumped them in the sink. Her kinks from the bantu knots that she must have done a few nights before, swayed when she turned around. She leaned on the counter lazily, done with all the stressful work that she had completed previously.

"Don't you have to be at work by a certain time? You should get going. Don't want to get fired, you know?" Her speech slowed down almost seductively. It was a new outfit she wore. She went shopping without me and didn't think about us matching. I scowled in disbelief, now becoming the one to prey on her.

"You didn't answer my question, Amara? Why are you wearing makeup? You never do that. You didn't think of me when you went shopping either? I mean you could of at least brought home something that matched!" I shifted the chair around causing it to scream loudly.

She closed her eyes in annoyance, her head rolling as she stretched her neck.

"You should stay silent, Namjoon. People like you don't deserve to have an opinion." A dagger was thrown at my face.

I stood up in defense. No woman was going to disrespect me like so.

"Yeah? No man deserves to put his hands on a woman, let alone it be a female hitting a man! And you are my damn wife, I should be able to know what the hell's been happening to you." I shot back, angrily. My eyes were still swollen and my lip throbbed as I talked, but I wouldn't let this be evident.

Amara's hands drew up in a ball at the words that burned and flared from my bruised lips. But, I did not stop.

"What happened to my wife that actually used to love me? Clearly you don't anymore and you only c-----"

Amara pushed me against the wall that had our family portrait on it, making it shatter. The noise was all too familiar and sent me back into retrospect. I cowered up, my wife no longer my wife anymore, but the oppressors that had held me captive. Their eyes infuriated with red blazing pupils that durived straight from the pits of Hell and specially crafted by hand of the Devil himself.

Hanuel wept, trying to get out of his high chair so he could come to my rescue, but it was a fruitless attempt. I took my beating with as much pride as I could for if I would have fought back, I would have been punished. I could not relive those treacherous moments when they would lock me in the cellar and let rats feed upon my body. I healed nonetheless, but the scarring will never fade away.

It only happened twice.

The beating of objects and hands finally stopped on my body. I looked up through my tears of fear. I peered at my son from the floor, him bringing me back to reality of what truly happened. Hanuel wailed my name causing Amara to slap him on the back of his head, telling him to shut up.

I hugged my knees against the wall, not being able to hold my crying. Amara walked towards me with guilt on her face next to me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulder and tucked me in, whispering soothing things into my ear.

"You know I love you Namjoon. If you weren't such a bad husband, maybe this wouldn't happen. I wouldn't do this to you, if you were a better husband. Look what you make me do, Namjoon.

I don't want to have to act out this way, not in front of our son....no. This is your fault, you caused this. God! I hate seeing your face all broken up. It's just that you need to learn a lesson. You know I love you, Namjoon, but if this keeps on, I'll leave you for someone else." My heart stopped at her words. I could not lose Amara. She was the only one that truly understood me, the only one I love. I promised her that I would never love anyone else am let anything come in between us.

We can make it through this storm.

"Do you want me to leave?" Her angelic voice ringed in the air, mixing with Hanuel's cries. Amara shot him a stern look.

"No..."

"Liar! You told me to leave and to get out of the house! Why did you tell me to leave?" She shouted in my ears aggresively.

"I didn't want you to hurt Hanuel." I whispered mostly to myself.

Amara shoved me to the side before getting up and dusting off her butt.

"You're such a pathetic excuse of a man. Worthless." Her hips swayed left and right until she reached the beginning of the hallway. She turned around.

"I think I'm becoming more of myself, Namjoon, and I think I like it. How is that as an answer?"

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