We stand there, a heavy, thick silence swirling between us. He turns away, running his hands through his hair in frustration. My shaky arms grip the railing of the stairs to steady myself from the adrenaline running through my body.
How did we end up here?
I don’t even recognize myself anymore. The constant battle with him is wearing me down, stripping away the person I once was. I feel trapped in this endless cycle of questions that don’t get answered. The way it’s making me react and think isn’t me. I catch myself questioning everything and walking on eggshells. It’s exhausting.
No wonder Ashely felt more relief than pain when she finally caught her husband.
All I want to do is curl up in bed, but I can’t, so instead I head upstairs, ignoring Zayn still standing there in disbelief. Disbelief from what, I don’t know, because I’m not the one going out and treating him like shit. I’m not the one looking at him like he’s a ruining my life.
The day has ended, and it felt like it dragged on. My emotions were all over the place. After our fight, I took a long shower tocool down, hoping the water would wash away my tension. Then I threw myself into baking to keep my mind off things. But the anger and hurt would not leave.
More questions flooded my mind, more than ever. More than I’d like to admit. I couldn’t help but replay the argument and every word said and yelled.
My hands shook as I measured ingredients, and at one point, tears blurred my vision, and they fell right into the batter. I had to start over, which only made the frustration worse because all I’ve wanted to do all day was go to bed.
This isn’t just affecting me; it’s affecting my work now. Baking used to make me feel happy, like it was my sanctuary. Lately, I’ve been dreading it. I’ve been dreading everything in my life that once brought me joy.
Even my marriage.
I haven’t had an appetite all day, so I didn’t make dinner for us. Zayn can fend for himself. The last couple of times, he didn’t even eat what I cooked. So why am I going to waste my time? I’m exhausted anyway.
I drift off to sleep, only to be jolted awake by Zayn storming into the room and flipping the light on.
“No dinner?” he asks sternly.
I blink quickly, trying to adjust to the light, my eyes burning from crying all day, making it hard to keep them open. “No.”
“It would have been nice to know ahead of time so I could have picked something up,” he says, standing there in his work clothes.
I look over at the blinds, seeing no light shine through. It’s already night, and he’s just coming home, bitching about dinner. The fucking nerve he has.
I squint my eyes, trying to focus on him as he glares at me, his gaze intense, like he’s waiting for me to say something. The silence between us stretches. Does he want an argument? Doeshe enjoy it? It feels like he’s doing this to get some sort of reaction from me. I’m not sure what he wants from me anymore. I’m too tired to fight right now.
“You have nothing to say?” he asks.
“No.”
He huffs, walks out, and slams the door behind him, leaving the light on. I let out a sigh, get up and turn off the light, and drift back to sleep.
One more week down. Something I used to say and count down so I could enjoy more time with Zayn since he’s off on the weekends. Now I say it as if I’m trying to bypass my time until the next week starts, so I have more time by myself while he’s at work. How pathetic is that? And to think, people live like this constantly because they don’t leave. It makes me so sad. Now here I am sitting in a situation I never thought I would be in.
I’ve contemplated leaving even if I don’t find proof of anything. Not only would I be losing my husband, but my best friend. When I look back at when we were little, playing in the dirt, I never expected to be treated this way by him. Even in our school days, he never once treated me like this. He protected me emotionally and physically. He was my best friend; I could never see this ever happening.
If I leave him, what would happen to my friendship with Rya and Ezra? I know Rya would still be friends with me, but would it be the same? Would it be the same with Ezra? Would they pick sides?
But I can’t stay only because of the fear of losing my friendship with them. It’s not fair to me.
Haley: Hey Violet, I have a huge favor to ask of you?
Violet: Hi what favor?
Haley: My Niece’s birthday party is tomorrow at one and the other caterer bailed on her cupcakes. Would you be able to make a hundred cupcakes?
I read over the text wondering what child has a hundred friends. Even including family members. A hundred seems outrageous. But that seems to always be the way of the parties Haley throws.
Haley: It’s mermaid themed.
Do I say no? I’m tired and I don’t have any orders I needed to do this Saturday. But she’s also my number one customer, so I would hate to turn her down. But then again, it’s not like Zayn and I are going to do anything. Hell, we probably won’t even look at each other. It will keep my mind busy.
