"Let me help you,"Moriah said, placing her hand on Joel's shoulder.
Joel pulled back, immediately, then stopped.
"Sorry," he muttered, moving his shoulder back to its original position.
"You're not okay, Joel. So why are you pretending to be?"
"Because....it's just..."
She pressed her face to Joel's neck.
"Tell me what's wrong. Let me help you. Why do you want to kill yourself?"
"Because I hate myself, okay?" Joel sounded annoyed.
Moriah pressed Joel's head against her chest.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
His voice was a bit raspy from yelling at her half an hour ago.
Moriah laid down on the black leather couch, pulling Joel down with her. She held him.
"Whatever you need to do to feel better, do it. Unless it's alcohol. Or drugs. Or self-harm. Only healthy stuff, okay, Joel? We're in this together, baby. Don't try to struggle alone."
"Whatever."
Moriah stood up. "I'mma go check on the girls, alright? They're quiet. I bet they're up to something."
"Okay."
He waited for his wife to leave, before locking the door and reaching into his drawer for his guilty secret: a bloodstained blade.
"You may think we're in this together,"he muttered, "but I know I'm alone."