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She knew he wouldn’t have liked that and he nodded. He pulled
the bottle of vodka out again and set it beside his glass on the
counter before moving behind her. He stood, watching over her
shoulder as she diced the tomatoes. Small pieces, no larger than a
pea. She could feel his breath on her neck and tried not to cringe
as he placed his hands on her hips. Knowing what she had to do,
she set the knife down and turned toward him, putting her arms
around his neck. She kissed him with a little tongue knowing he
wanted her to, and didn’t see the slap coming until she felt the
sting against her cheek. It burned, hot and red. Sharp. Bee stings.
“You made me waste my entire afternoon!” he shouted at her. He
gripped her arms tight, squeezing hard. His mouth was contorted,
his eyes already bloodshot. She could smell the booze on his
breath, and spittle hit her face. “My only day off and you pick that
day to get your damn hair done in the middle of the city! And
then go grocery shopping!”
She wiggled, trying to back away, and he finally let her go. He
shook his head, the muscle of his jaw pulsing. “Did you ever stop
to think that I might have wanted to relax today? Just take it easy
on my only day off?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her cheek. She didn’t say that she’d
checked with him twice earlier in the week if it would be okay, or
that he was the one who made her switch salons because he didn’t
want her making friends. Didn’t want anyone knowing their
business.
“I’m sorry,” he mimicked her. He stared at her before shaking his
head again. “Christ almighty,” he said. “Is it so hard for you to
think about anyone other than yourself?”
He reached out, trying to grab her, and she turned, trying to run.
He was ready for her and there was nowhere to go. He struck fast
and hard, his fist a piston, firing at her lower back. She gasped,
her vision going black in the corners, feeling as though she’d been
pierced with a knife. She collapsed to the floor, her kidney on fire,