Desolate Love

Do I look like him..?

TW:ABUSE, MATURE LANGUAGE

Marjorie is sitting in the office with her trusted friend (as some would call her) Autumn, the halls of the nursery are dead silent, the only thing that could be heard was the clicking of Marjorie's keyboard sending yet another email to Roger. Aut had noticed her close friend had recently been acting less and less like her perky self, she has been coming to work taking care of herself less, a frown on her face, instead of greeting everyone with joy she barely even let words escape her mouth. Leaving a cold cloud of mist surrounding her. It was as if someone had stolen her right to speak.

Her right to defend herself, gone.

Just like that.

The two women were packing up to leave their workplace until Marjorie gets a text from her now husband. The text reads "Hurry the fuck up Marjorie this is getting ridiculous now it's 19:30 and pitch black outside." Another text follows "My love I really didn't mean that you KNOW I love you so much Marjorie Knight. Just come home as soon as possible, love you." She sighed in devastation, she knew what was coming when she entered those great doors of Reece's house. She carried on packing away her belongings alongside Autumn, "So..." muttered the younger woman whilst pushing her glasses up. The older woman looked up at Autumn, her tongue twisted, unable to express herself, giving her co-worker the same barren look. They both start heading towards the door, they both slightly chuckled at Aut pushing the door instead of pulling it. Marjorie is closing up, locking the door as her friend gets in her car and drives off in silence making her feel uneasy. *buzz* *buzz* "Well well well partner of the year is calling." She murmurs to herself, pressing the 'x' on her mobile device.

As Autumn's tail lights disappeared around the corner, Marjorie felt a familiar pang of loneliness settle in. The lights of her car flashed as she unlocked it, slipping in the driver's seat. She sat in her car for a moment, her phone lying dark and silent in the seat beside her. She looked into the wing mirror, seeing the look that she had given herself countless times lately, empty, defeated. But here, alone in the darkness of night, that look was her only company. The black sky loomed over her, a white streak of light beaming from a lamppost overhead shone onto her, the only light within the vast darkness.

The cold winter air fills the woman's lungs, leaving a trail of mist in its wake as she exhales. The car door slams shut, its echo thundering through the desolate estate. With a sigh, she steps toward the towering, frosted gate. The creak of metal as it swings open drowns out the sound of her engine shutting off, while the crunch of dry leaves underfoot grows more deliberate as Marjorie carefully picks her path, wary of drawing attention. Nearby, a skunk with two stark white stripes chases a squirrel, asserting its dominance in the silence. Marjorie brushes it off and continues her journey, eventually reaching the vast doors of her husband's house.

Marjorie's fingers shook as she adjusted her grip on the door handle. Her phone buzzed continuously. She didn't need to check the screen to know it was Reece; he'd called three times already, each message shorter and colder than the last. Sighing to herself she pushed open the heavy wooden door, easing it closed behind her and hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed. But Reece had a way of sensing her presence, of knowing exactly when she came home, no matter how quietly she entered.

Before she could take another step, his voice drifted from the living room. "Finally," he muttered, the word laced with something that made her stomach tighten. She turned, forcing a small smile as she caught his gaze, but he was already looking away, a deep frown carving lines into his forehead "I thought you might've forgotten you had a husband waiting." Reece smiled invitingly and tapped the space beside him. The words hung in the air, accusatory yet soft and playful, making her feel the weight of his disappointment without him having to raise his voice. She took a slow breath, steadying herself."I'm sorry, Reece. I didn't mean to be late," she said, keeping her tone light, even though her heart raced.

He shrugged, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"You're always sorry, Marjorie. But sometimes I wonder if you mean it. It's like..." He trailed off, sighing deeply, his shoulders sagging as he ran a hand through his hair, a picture of wounded resignation. "Never mind. Maybe I'm just overreacting. I guess I just don't matter enough to be on time for." he quipped, the joking tone barely hiding the edge meant to make her feel small.

Marjorie bit her lip, the words he left unsaid filling her with guilt. She felt herself shrinking under the weight of his disappointment, the slight drop of his shoulders pulling her in, as if it was somehow her job to ease his frustration.

She stepped closer, hoping to smooth things over. "Reece, it's not like that. I just had a lot on my mind."

He sighed, his eyes fixed on some point past her. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one," he murmured. And though he didn't look at her, she could feel the judgment in his tone, the unspoken accusation that, somehow, her mind being elsewhere was a choice, a slight against him.

She wanted to defend herself, to explain, but something told her that wouldn't help. So she stayed silent, her fingers twitching as the tension between them grew, settling like a fine dust over the room, thickening the air with things left unsaid. Marjorie sat still, shifting her eyes to where Reece's had been stuck the whole conversation. As he blankly stared at the television, the dark screen reflected an image of his face, but for a moment it wasn't him she saw. In the absence of the light, she could almost see Roger there, his coldness mirrored in the set of his jaw, the way his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, the subtle sneer that crept onto his face when he was displeased. It was like watching a pattern repeat itself, the same icy detachment that once smothered Siobhan, now appearing in Reece's eyes. The same controlling silence, the same manipulation twisted into a new form, the same but no less suffocating.

The only thought left lingering was the similarities between Reece and his monstrous father figure

"Do I look like him....?"