My red high heels

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The taxi ride home was unpleasant with a devastating silence. It reminds me of the silence you find right before a storm, when everything is quiet and the birds are not singing. So when it was over I was glad to exit the car. Will stormed off towards the kitchen as I stood still in the hall.

We need to talk about this. My mom always taught me, that what so ever never go to bed with anger in your body. The next morning you will regret it. With these words ringing in my ears I slowly walked after Will towards the kitchen. He stood leaning against the kitchen island with a beer in his hand and looking up at the ceiling.

I clear my throat and his head snaps in my direction.

"Is something wrong Will?" Concern filling my voice.

"Yeah." He snorts with a arrogant face, mocking my question.

"What is it? Talk to me." I pleaded. He places the beer on the counter.

"How is it that every time something happens, I always need to explain it to you. Are you really that stupid?" He says, anger creeping through his voice.

"Or do you like seeing me get angry? Is that some sick turn on for you? Because I can be angry if you want." It's deadly calm in the kitchen and my heart beats like furious.

"No, I don't like you being angry. I only want you to tell me why you got angry." I explain, feeling like I'm handling a bomb that will explode any second. Slowly he stands up and walks in almost nonchalantly steps towards me, eying my body up and down like he is the predator and I'm the pray.

As he takes a step forward I take one backwards until I can feel the refrigerator right behind me.

"The problem is that when I came back from the toilet, a unknown man had his arm draped around you. And..." I interrupted him, dying to explain to him that it was all a misunderstanding.

"I can ex..." I begin but now it's his turn to interrupt me.

"Shut up!" He screams and I understood that instead of extinguish the flame I had lit it.

"He had his arm around you, and you sat there like a little slut! But that's not the worst part, the worst part is that you defended him!" He shouts throwing his arms up in the air and laughing. The laugh kills something inside of me, a part that hoped that this would turn up into a soft conversation. A part that hoped that everything would be alright.

"You defended him." His face inching downwards to mine.

"I didn't..." A slap stops my respond and a burning spot takes form on my cheek.

"Don't argue!" He roars.

"It didn't..." A punch this time shutting me up in the middle of the sentence.

"DON'T ARGUE!" And this time I can't count the hits that rained over my body. In the face, at my stomach and on my arms, hit after hit. One final on my cheek sends the back of my head, with a load bang, right into the refrigerator. My body slowly falls down, but before it hits the floor strong arms collected me.

"No! I'm so sorry love! I didn't mean to!" Will cries out, putting his forehead to mine, big tears flows down his face.

"I'm so sorry." He sobs.

"It's alright, you didn't mean to." I mumbles. My own tears wetting my face.

"I'm so sorry." He whisper again.

"Me too."