•°wrong turn°•

chapter 1

The kitchen felt cold, even with the even humming softly in the background. I stood by the stove, stirring a pot of simmering pasta, my hands moving automatically while my mind drifted to darker corners. The scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the air, but it did little to lift the heaviness in my chest.

Every sound seemed amplified, the bubbling sauce, the ticking clock on the wall, even the faint rustle of leaves outside. I glanced at the clock again. He would be home soon. My heart raced at the thought, not from excitement but from the familiar dread that twisted my stomach into knots.

The kitchen was tidy, just as my 'lovely' husband zayne liked it, everything had its place, and nothing could be out of order. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I chopped vegetables with precision. The knife glided through the bell peppers, but my thoughts were jagged and chaotic.

What would he say today? Would he be in a good mood? Or would he find something, anything, to lash out about? The fear was a constant companion, wrapping around me like a thick fog. I tried to push it away, focusing instead on the meal. It had to be perfect.

As I stirred the sauce again, I caught my reflection in the window. My eyes were tired; shadows clung beneath them like ghosts. I forced a smile at myself, a practiced gesture that felt more like a mask than anything genuine. "You can do this," I whispered under my breath.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel outside sent a jolt through me. He was home. The door creaked open, and my heart raced as I wiped my hands on a towel and turned to greet him.

"Dinner’s almost ready," I called out, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremor underneath.

"Good," he replied curtly as he stepped inside, shaking off the chill of the evening air. His eyes scanned the room with an intensity that made me hold my breath.

I could feel his presence like an electric current in the air, charged and unpredictable. Every second stretched as I waited for his next words, hoping for kindness

Now the table was set, each fork and knife gleaming under the dim light. I placed the steaming bowl of pasta in front of him, my hands trembling slightly as I did so. He dug in without a word, the sound of his fork clattering against the plate echoing in the silence. I sat across from him, my own plate untouched, a lump forming in my throat.

"Why aren’t you eating?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing as he looked up from his meal. It was more of an accusation than a question.

"I-I’m not hungry," I stammered, forcing myself to meet his gaze. My heart raced as I felt the tension crackle between us, thick enough to cut.

"Not hungry?" he repeated incredulously, his voice rising. "You’ve been in this kitchen all evening! What were you doing if not preparing dinner for us?"

I could feel my pulse quickening as I searched for the right words. "I just thought-"

"Thought what?" He leaned forward, his expression darkening. "That I wouldn’t notice? That you could just sit there and waste food? You know how hard I work!"

I swallowed hard, my stomach churning with anxiety. I wanted to explain that sometimes it felt like food was the last thing on my mind when he walked through that door. But I knew better than to voice those thoughts; they would only fuel his anger.

"i’m sorry," I whispered, lowering my eyes to my lap. "I’ll eat."

"Damn right, you will," he barked, slamming his fork down on the table with a force that made me flinch. "You think this is a joke? You think you can just ignore me?"

I nodded slowly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremor that threatened to break through. "No, it’s not a joke… I just-"

"Just what?" he interrupted again, leaning back in his chair but not relaxing. The tension in the air was suffocating. "You think you can just sit there and make me do all the work?"

His words cut deep, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away quickly; showing weakness only invited more fury. Instead, I picked up my fork and poked at the pasta on my plate, trying to will myself to take a bite.

"Eat," he commanded sharply.

I forced a piece into my mouth, chewing slowly as if each bite was a small act of defiance against the storm brewing inside me. But even as I chewed, I could feel his glare boring into me, sharp and unyielding.

"See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?" His tone dripped with sarcasm as he resumed eating, but the tension lingered like an uninvited guest at our table.

As I chewed, thoughts raced through my mind—thoughts of escape, of freedom from this suffocating existence. But for now, all I could do was follow his lead and play along with this twisted game we were trapped in.

The silence stretched between us like a taut string, vibrating with unspoken words. I finished my meal, the taste of the pasta dull against the knot in my stomach. As soon as I set my fork down, he pushed his chair back with a loud scrape that echoed in the empty room.

"I’m going out," he announced, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. The suddenness of it made my heart sink. I could already picture him slipping into that familiar haze, laughing and drinking with his friends while I sat alone in our dimly lit home.

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady but failing to hide the tremor of concern.

"Out," he replied curtly, not bothering to look back at me as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. "You wouldn’t understand."

"Maybe I would if you just talked to me," I said softly, desperation creeping into my voice. But he didn’t respond; instead, he pulled the door open and stepped out into the night, leaving me in a suffocating silence.

I stared at the door for what felt like an eternity, feeling that familiar ache in my chest deepen. The cold air rushed in, wrapping around me like a shroud as it closed behind him. He didn’t even look back.

Once again, I was left alone with my thoughts, the shadows stretching across the walls felt like they were closing in on me. I sank into a chair at the table, staring at the remnants of dinner that felt almost mocking now. The clatter of dishes and laughter from outside seeped through the walls, reminding me of everything I was missing, everything we had lost.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through messages from friends inviting me out or asking how I was doing. Each notification felt like another reminder of how disconnected I had become from everything outside these four walls. They wouldn’t understand; they couldn’t see what lay beneath this facade.

He would be out there drinking, laughing, while I sat here nursing this hollow feeling inside me. A wave of anger surged through me at his thoughtlessness, but it quickly morphed into sadness. Did he even care? Did he realize how lonely it was when he chose to walk away instead of staying and talking things through?

With a heavy sigh, I pushed my plate aside and stood up. The kitchen felt too small now; I needed air. I stepped outside onto the porch, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill. The night sky was vast above me, stars twinkling like distant promises of something better.

As I looked out into the darkness, a part of me longed to join him, to escape this suffocating reality for just a moment.  Maybe it was time to confront him when he returned… if he returned

•°•°•°•°•°•°•

So this was the first chapter, I hope you liked it, and trust me, it's gonna get better and better

Pls comment and vote ★
And if u have any questions, feel free to ask

One last thing do u prefer long or short chapters??

OKAY, LOVE YOU BITCHES <3

Total words: 1392