The Unsaved

Chapter 1

I stepped through the door, panting, out of breath.

He was not going to be happy...

"Elizabeth? That better be you."

"Yes, it's me...

I hung my jacket on an old rusty hook that had been sloppily nailed into the door and I walked into the living room. I say walked, but I really mean strategically maneuvered past piles here and there of random things that he has collected over the years, but has never seemed to be able to put in the several empty drawers or cabinets that fill the house.

"Where were you? I thought I said that we were going to have dinner at seven and it's now eight thirty!"

"I'm sorry. Work went late, I had to give Dillan dinner and then put him to sleep because Angela couldn't make it today. I texted you that I was going to be a little late..."

"A little late doesn't generally mean an hour and a half. This has been happening a lot lately and I don't know what to make of it!"

"I'm sorry! I got here as fast as I could! I don't know what else you wanted me to do! I couldn't just leave Dillan to fend for himse-"

A sharp pain ran through my face and the next thing I knew I was on the ground and looking up at him.

"Don't speak to me like that!"

I hung my head and watched as tears fell to the floor, mixing with a bright red. I sat there, because that is what you do. You don't argue, you don't try to explain yourself, you sit there and wait for him to calm down. You wait until he tells you it will be alright.You sit there and wait because that is all you can do.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Liz. I don't know what came over me. It was a long day at work and I was looking forward to seeing you. You know how it is... right?"

I look up into his eyes, those gorgeous chocolate eyes. How could I be mad at him? He's had a tough day and I, of all people, should understand what that is like. I shouldn't have been so selfish as to stay that little extra time at the diner, I should have thought about him and what he would want. I should be putting him first, I love him.

"It's okay, I'm sorry for thinking about you and what a day you might have had. I shouldn't have yelled."

I took his hand and he lifted me gracefully into a hug. Everything was going to be alright. I was safely wrapped in his strong, sure arms.

After he helped me wash up, I reheated some leftover spaghetti from the other night. I pushed some old newspapers off of the spinach green couch to make room for me and grabbed the nearest blanket with the least holes. I cuddled up to his warm body and we sat there in silence, his favorite wrestling show playing on the small, dinged-up, flatscreen tv.