I heard the lock on our apartment door jingle as my drunken husband of four years strolled in. I glanced at the door seeing the hallway light flicker on, I checked the clock on his nightstand reading 3:47am. I lay silently in our bed, hearing his feet pound along the hardwood floor knocking several knick-knacks over on his way to the bathroom. I could tell he was in a rush, more likely about to vomit. I heard his violent gags from just next door. I never liked hearing the sound of someone vomiting but this sound became something I've heard over and over again. I stared at the window with tears in my eyes, the moonlight caressing my figure. I shut my eyes and thought 'another night spent by myself, another minute spent with my thoughts.' I'm honestly surprised they haven't killed me yet. The bedroom door opened and in he walked, half undressed already moving the sheets beside me to slide in. I quickly shut my eyes pretending to be asleep, but I could feel his gaze on me.. not only that but the stench of alcohol.He groaned as he laid beside me wrapping his arms around my luminescent figure. He made me sick... but I loved him.
YOU ARE READING
Four Years
Short StoryI looked at her with soft eyes as she urged me to go on; shaking in my chair I played with the split ends of my hair, biting my lip. I sighed 'He was the worst four years of my life.. I should've saw the signs.' Deanna nodded her head slowly, her bi...
