he told me [a short story]

six

he told me
| six |

When I got back home, he was drinking from an alcohol bottle on the couch watching television. I told him we needed to talk and he said no, I needed to get in the kitchen and begin dinner. But I had stood my ground. I said that the relationship isn't working out, I needed to leave and it was because he hurts me. I told him I was packing my bags and I was leaving when I had most of my things.

As I was making my way to the bedroom, he shoved me to the ground and got on top of me. He had anger in his eyes, saying I was stupid for thinking I could leave him. After giving me a slap to the face, he got off me. I rushed to the bedroom, grabbed a bag and stuffed a few of my clothing items into it. When he saw what I was doing, tears were replaced by the anger in his eyes. He told me I couldn't leave him and that he needed me, telling me he loved me and he would go to therapy.

For a short moment I believed him. I believed that he really could change and I was making a bad decision. But that moment had passed and I walked out of the apartment. He shouted at me saying that I would be back.

But I never was.