Warm water vigorously tap on my skin. Fleeting in the differences of the bathroom temparature.
Rub off! I scrubbed the loofah with fragrant soap on my arms, neck, torso and my legs. Why does it not rub off?
"Honey, I'm home!"
Just a second you son of a bitch. Blood trickling down my legs unto the bathroom floor. Hellish! Son of a bitch!
The relieving scent of lavander and camomile. Kept me distracted from the pain.
"I want you to cook me adobo."
Okay. I patched myself up quickly. Excruciating pain as it was. I changed into my house clothes quickly before he gets mad.
I took out the wok. Placed in the sliced cubes of pork. I can sense him watching what I was doing. I placed in a cup or two of water and started to bring it to boil.
"That is not how you cook adobo. That is nilaga." He ranted about what to place in first and what next and what should I have done and what I should not have done.
The annoyance. "Here! You cook!"
I never stepped in the kitchen ever again or else, he will be the one to bleed.
