The scars on my neck...

Chapter II

A few days passed, and during that time things were normal. He went to work on Monday, and I started studying online again. I was studying for my medical degree, I had only another semester left.

Ryder worked at a technology company called Venison. They're a phone service company, it's got nothing to do with deer.

On that particular Monday he said bye to me, as he did every day, but today he said this before leaving:

"I know you wanted to try cooking, so I laid out a recipe for you give it a try, please actually do it ok?" He said as he was walking to his car outside.

"Okay, will do. Love you"

"Love you too" he responded as sweetly as ever. I gave him a little wave and shut the door behind him.

We had only been dating 4 or 5 months but it felt like I'd known him my whole life. His parents were rather wealthy, so it allowed him to have a house right when he got out of college. I didn't have such luxury, but fortunately, he lets me stay here.

I would've gotten started cooking, knowing it would take me 3 or 4 hours to do, despite its simplicity. But, I got a message on my laptop. My professor had given us a new assignment. I decided I'd give cooking a shot later, the assignment itself looked pretty difficult.

Before I knew it, it was 5:30 and he'd be home soon. I'd gotten a lot done on the assignment, but hadn't touched dinner, despite promising him.

I felt a small rush of panic. What if he starts hating me over this?

I managed to calm myself down and I heard the front door creak open. He did not look happy.

"Welcome home, how was work?"

He kinda glared at me.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He came into the living room and sat down on the couch, exhausted, yet incredibly mad.

"Did you at least make dinner?" He said, looking over at me, sitting on the floor with my laptop.

I looked down to the ground

"No? Great, okay." He said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry I lost track of time. I can go get us something. If you'd like." I offered, trying to make him feel better.

He got up and pulled a bottle of hard apple cider out of the fridge. He quickly poured it into a glass, he'd done it so often he never spilt a drop.

"Fine, fine." He said, taking a sip.

"Would it be bad to hit you again?" He said, looking down at the cloudy drink.

I felt my mouth go dry.

"W-what?" I said, suddenly feeling a little uneasy.

"Nothing. Just a little out of it." He said. He went over to the counter... next to where all the knives are.

I followed him into the room. He kept taking sips of his drink. I watched his eyes flip between the cloudy swirls in his drink and the sharp blades in front of him.

He used to cut. A lot. He tells me I'm the only reason he stopped. It always pained me to look at those scars, lining his arms with little bands of pinkish white.

"Wait, Ryder please don't." I walked over beside him and rest my hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry. The hate's got nowhere to go." He murmured. He set his now-empty glass down and let it roll on its side.

I paused a moment, taking in his pain.

"You can hit me again"

He turned around and punched me in the stomach.