After a few hours while I cleaned up his house which was thrashed like usually, Malcolm woke up and joined me downstairs.
He was still drunk but he had sobered up just a little.
"Dahlia..." he breathed as he walked into the kitchen where I was making some food for him. "...we need to talk about that."
"No we definitely do not." I laughed. "You are horrible when you're drunk. You need rehab."
Malcolm walked closer to me.
"We kissed." He said, causing me to immediately look up at him.
"We? No. You kissed me."
"Really?" He laughed. "That's the story you're gonna go with?"
"Story? Malcolm, I am married. Why the fuck would I kiss you back?!"
"I don't know, but you did!"
I stood up.
"You're delusional." I said, taking a step towards him. "I left you for a reason. You were physically hurting me, mentally hurting me too. You scared the shit out of me, you made me fear for my life and for the kids. I'm not scared anymore and I want to help you but trust me... I did not kiss you back."
He stepped closer to me so that we now stood face to face.
"Fine. Then let me kiss you again and if you don't feel anything, I'll leave you be."
I laughed.
"Back off."
"Let me kiss you."
"I'm not kissing you."
He ran his hand to the nape of my neck and when he tried to pull me closer, I instead slapped him across the face.
He brought a hand up to his cheek and a second later, his anger took over and he pinned me against the wall, my hands pressed to the wall next to my head.
"Let go of me, Malcolm."
"No. Not until you admit that you kissed me back."
I sighed.
"I didn't." I said. "Please let go of me. I can't do this right now."
He let go of my hands but instead grabbed my jaw in his hand.
"Are you gonna tell him?"
"Of course I'm going to fucking tell him!" I exclaimed. "I'm not about to mess up my marriage because you decided to fucking kiss me!"
I tried to push him away, shoving him in the chest.
I didn't know what happened.
He must've worked up too much anger because suddenly a sharp pain shot through my entire face and I woke up on the floor to Malcolm apologising over and over again while holding me in his arms, brushing my hair out of my face.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered, his voice faint.
I blinked a few times before I saw his face above me. He had been crying.
My head was hurting and my face felt hot.
"Ow..." I muttered, bringing my hand up to touch the spot that felt the hottest.
My nose.
When I looked at my hand, I saw blood, and I looked up at Malcolm again, tearing up.
"You punched me." I said and sat up, getting away from him.
"Wait... Dahlia!" He called as I made my way out of the room. "Fuck... I didn't mean to! I'm sorry, baby!"
I pulled on my shoes in the foyer, then grabbed my jacket while Malcolm hurried to catch up on me.
"You need to go to rehab." I said. My body was shaking. "I don't— you haven't punched me in years. You haven't... what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I don't know..."
I looked at him and shook his head.
"I'm gonna go home and I'm gonna clean myself up before Elsie and Leah sees me because I don't want them to see what their dad did to their mum." I said. "And you... either you go to rehab or I turn you in for this."
I left before he got to say anything else. I slammed the door behind me, then found my wand and apparated home.
As I stood in front of the door to my home, I took a deep breath.
Stop shaking.
Once I managed to gather myself, I basically tiptoed inside. I didn't want anyone to hear me. I wanted to get upstairs, clean up whatever amount of blood was on my face, and then go spend time with my family.
I closed the door behind me, pushed off my shoes and then took off my jacket, my shoulder aching at the movement.
"Dia?!" George called, and I cursed out loud.
"I'll be upstairs!" I called, my voice unfortunately shaking a little.
I hurried upstairs and into the room, closing the door behind me but as I stood in the bathroom, trying to clean my face, a person walked in, and when I turned, I saw Elsie.
She saw my face and blinked a few times before she stumbled back.
"He did that, didn't he?"
"No... Elsie—"
"Don't lie to me!" She raised her voice before hurrying away, and then I heard her voice shout. "George! Dad hit mum!"
I turned to look in the mirror, the first time I actually looked at myself after coming into the bathroom.
I was bleeding from my nose as well as my cheekbone and my nose was swollen.
Fuck me.
I placed my hands on the sink and looked down to see it stained with blood in some spots.
I could hear someone run on the stairs out in the hallway and a second later, George barged into the bathroom, his eyes on me.
"He punched me." I admitted. "I think he knocked me unconscious for a moment. I woke up on the floor. My head is hurting."
George carefully approached me and as he placed a hand on my shoulder, I flinched.
"I'm sorry." I said.
"Don't..." he gently placed a hand against my jaw to turn my head. "...you have nothing to apologise for."
He studied my face before he reached for the cloth I had used, and carefully cleaned up the blood.
"You're too good for this world, Dia." He said softly, his eyes flicking between my eyes and the blood as he cleaned it up. "Why do you keep helping him when he treats you like this?"
"I don't know..." I whispered. "But I'm done. I gave him an ultimatum."
"And that is...?"
"Either he goes to rehab or I turn him in for punching me."
George nodded.
"I'm gonna kill him." He said. "I'm not kidding around anymore. This is the last time I've seen him do this to you."
When he finished cleaning up the blood, he fixed the cut on my cheekbone, then the nose that was apparently broken.
"You're gonna have two blue eyes soon." He said. "I'll put some bruising paste on it and they won't appear."
I nodded and sat down on the toilet seat, sighing, watching George put the cloth down, then made his way into the bedroom, and that's when I opened my mouth to speak.
"Malcolm kissed me."
