He was in disbelief, gritting his teeth so loud I could hear them. “I’ve never flirted with anybody. Nor did I ever try to rile you up with jealousy by talking to some fucking drunk dimwit.”

I’d heard enough. I didn’t want to be confronted about the guy at the bar. I went to leave the bedroom, but Jaxon wouldn’t let me through. “Move!”

“No. You’re going to talk this through with me, Sara. Every time we argue, you flee and I let you go. It has never done us good, either. You just get angrier and angrier.”

“Shut up and move, Jaxon!”

“No. You’re going to talk–”

“What is there to talk about?”

“US!” he growled, leaning down to my level so that we were face to face and inches away. “You’re going to tell me where my girlfriend is!”

“Among the crowd of girls you’ve fucked, where do you want me to point?”

His eyes widened. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not a fucking loser like YOU!” I attempted to duck under his arm, but he pushed his body in front of me. “Jaxon, I swear to fucking God, MOVE!”

“We’re going to talk.”

“No, we’re not! You can’t force me to talk to you!”

“Well, then I’m not going anywhere. You think you can constantly have your way, well fuck that, I want to have my way once in a while too, Sara.” He was saying all of this while I was hopelessly pushing him. “Stop acting like a banshee, and just calm down.”

“You can’t force me in here!” He’d never been so glued in the doorway like this before. In previous fights, he’d stand there and attempt to talk reasonably, but if I told him no, he’d move aside and let me through. “Move or I’ll call the police!”

“And tell them what?” he sneered, ignoring how harder my shoves were getting. “Stop flailing, Sara…” Out of hysteria for not getting my way, I made my hands into fists and punched him like mad on his chest, screaming for him to move. He took the punches like a champ, moving one hand to his chest to block them. I tried knocking the towel off of him with my leg, but he ducked and weaved me like a pro, knowingly protecting himself.

“I hate you!” I screamed, and then I grabbed the arm he was using to block the doorway with and dug my fingers as hard as possible into his flesh, clawing at it as deeply as I could. He hissed and grabbed me by the shoulders, telling me to calm down as I attempted to knee him in the balls. He shoved me into the door, knocking me breathless for a second as the back of my head thudded.

“What is your fucking problem?!” he hollered, looking down at his arm. “You don’t try and hit me again, Sara. Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Or what?” I breathlessly retorted. Some loose strands of hair were over my face and eyes, and I must have looked like a panting madwoman on a high.

His face went dark as he bore his eyes into mine. “I’ve let you get away with this far too long. Hurt me again, Sara, and I’ll defend myself.”

I scoffed and pushed him hard again. He barely budged, but I knew the physical contact was grating more and more on his patience. He was about to lose it. And I wanted him to.

“What are you going to? Are you going to hit me?” I slapped him on the chest with both hands. “Go on! I dare you! Hit me!”

“Stop it–”

I slapped him hard against the face, and that was the last straw. He grabbed me by the shoulders and squeezed hard; his face went bright red, coming at me until he was inches from my face. I tried to squirm away, but he overpowered me. “Stop it,” he begged hoarsely, and I could feel his breath against my face. Desperation scraped out of him, making him shudder against me. “Stop it, Sara. I love you. Stop this.” He tried to overcome his anger by kissing me, and when his mouth touched mine, I’d gone off like a rocket.

I didn’t know I did it until he flinched back in horror and let go of me abruptly.

I’d dug my fingernails into his cheek and clawed at him the second his lips had touched mine.

He took a step back, his eyes wide with terror and brought his fingers to the deep clawed marks starting from his cheek bone and ending just below his jawline. The claw marks swelled, turned bright red, and bled. He looked down at the blood on his fingers, breathing slow with a look that brought every angry cell in my body to a halt.

When I saw his eyes go red from unshed tears, my whole body began trembling. I couldn’t move or think straight. I just watched him. He turned away from me as a ragged breath escaped his lips, and then he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt. I watched him hastily dress in front of me before hurrying out of the bedroom without so much a glance in my direction. I heard the sound of his car keys and the loud slam of the front door.

Then it happened.

Everything just… hit me.

I looked down at my hands, at my fingernails that were rimmed in my love’s blood. My whole body shook and one single image flashed in my mind: my father. The monster that would beat on us with a rage that had me peeing my pants in bed most nights. You’ve turned into him.

“No,” I sobbed out loud. The tears fell mercilessly down my face. The emptiness in the apartment was suffocating me. All I wanted was Jaxon here again and I wanted to erase the entire night. No, fuck that, I wanted to erase half the year I’d spent in this monstrous state.

I’ll be different. I’ll beg for his forgiveness again. He’ll take me and he’ll forgive like he always does and we’ll be perfect again. I’ll stop trying to be so independent. I’ll stop thinking he’s going to deceive me. I’ll stop all that bullshit and I’ll be the perfect girlfriend. I swear, I will. No more of this shit.

Only that wasn’t enough. The promises I was making to myself were hollow because I knew how out of control my anger had become.

I’m a poison, and I’ve poisoned my relationship. My love means nothing. It’ll change nothing.

I fell to my knees and then cradled myself against the door, rocking my body to and fro, sobbing out loud and muttering incomplete sentences. “I don’t know what to do… Tell me what to do… I’m so sorry and... Oh, my God. Oh, my God, what the fuck did I just do? Oh, my God, I won’t do… I don’t know wh…” The pain in Jaxon’s eyes kept flashing before me. In fact, the pain I’d been inflicting on him relentlessly was now a slideshow in my head. He was perfect. He’d always been perfect. He did change for me, and I wronged him by doubting it.