Stone Cold Heart

♡ Chapter 2 ♡

Well...now I know that I was wrong. As I look at the photo of us, that my mom took ten years I remembered every vivid moment, that day we went to my and his very first prom night. I remembered how happy we were and how charming and romantic he was. I wonder what will happen to us. Our relationship has gotten to the point where I just want to leave him, but I can't let him go. My heart won't let me, cause I'm too softhearted to hurt him like that.
I was too lost in my thoughts, dusting over the chimney fireplace, and living room, that I didn't realize that the chicken stew was burning. I dropped the duster on the sofa and ran to the kitchen. I grabbed the mitt and the handle of the pot and stirred the chicken around. Why the hell does he have to want a difficult meal? I had to be finished dinner by the time he walked into the house. But I never know when because he never tells me anymore.

It was making boiled chicken, white rice, and tostones. I was almost done the tostones that were frying. All I had to do is take them out and put a light coat of garlic powder and salt on them. I already had served the rice and chicken with onions to make it have a nice tang to, and the sauce on the rice, because I know how he likes to mix his dinner together. Right when I turned off the oil and took out the tostones and placed them on the plate. Scott walks into the house. He comes straight into the kitchen to see what I was making.
"What are you making baby?" He asked in more of a demanding answer tone, to me.
"Tostones, chicken and rice"
"Where's my plate?" He saw his plate on the counter and grabbed it before I got to answer him. I was going to stop him before he bit into anything. "Actually, I'm not-"
He took a bite of the tostone and said slamming the plate back on the counter.
"Why does this have no taste in it!?"
"I was going to tell you I wasn't finished coating it"
"And why does my chicken taste burn!?"
"I was dusting as you said"

Smacking me across my face he says "don't you talk back to me!" I dropped to the ground and he kicked me in my rib, then continued to yell "I told you to have dinner done before I walk in that door, didn't I tell you?!" I looked up at him with a busted lip that I knew that was going to swell. Also trying to fight the pain on my rib.
"Now get up and finish! I want you to clean this kitchen spotless and join me in bed by exactly ten o'clock, I fucking mean it, got it!?"
"Okay" I replied in a hollowed tone.

I only got to get up from the cold floor, when he left the kitchen to sit at the living room with his feet up on the couch. Even though it hurts to breathe, I tried to fight it off while making baked chicken instead. Then I served his plate to him and put the desired amount of onion powder on his tostones. Then I took my plate and joined him. As I grabbed my fork of food and put it in my mouth, Scott said "Did you finish sweeping the house?"

I nodded; I was expecting a sorry but.... not even that. I couldn't really eat properly because it was difficult for me to breathe. I would tremble with every breath I took. After dinner, Scott left his plate on the coffee table for me to take to the kitchen and clean. While I did that he went upstairs and took a shower. Whereas I stayed downstairs in the kitchen washing the dishes, sweeping/mopping the floor, and cleaning the stove and counters. I was finished on time and I entered our room exactly at ten. When I headed up to the room, Scott was in bed expecting my company. I made the excuse to avoid him by saying "I have to go take a shower"
"Fine but don't take long you know how I hate waiting"

I grabbed my towel and a fresh pair of panties and one of his shirts into the bathroom with me, which was just down the hall. I locked the door to at least feel the slightest bit of safeness while I shower. As I removed each clothing it revealed a previous bruise mark or handprint Scott has made on me. I try not to think about the horrible things he has put me through. I mean...I can't even have long hair no more, I used to love dying my long beautiful hair. But because I wanted to please him, I cut my hair to shoulder length and kept it the last color I'll ever have...black...the way he likes it.

I turned on the showerhead and got in. I washed my body slowly so the pain won't hurt as much on my left rib. Also, the bruise he made yesterday's incident when we were making love. It was an accident. He didn't mean it grips me that hard. When I was finished washing up my body, I still had a few minutes left so I sat on the tiled floor of the shower and put my knees up to my chest then wrapped my arms around my legs, hugging myself as I stared into space looking at the pattern on the floor. Water dripped down my face and body, as I cried in silence so silent that he couldn't hear or notice for the matter. But what scared me out if my deep thoughts were a sudden bang on the door which was Scott yelling for me to hurry up, I knew he can get impatient so I said "I'll be out... I was...uh...shaving" I had to lie to him because he can get annoying trying to clock me.

I didn't hear a response so I figured he had just gone back into the room. I grabbed my towel and dried my face then my whole body. Then I put on my pantie and shirt then came out of the bathroom and back to the room. I brushed my damp hair with the knotty brush then joined Scott in bed. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. It wasn't like a 'come cuddle with me feel' it was more as 'you are mine and no one else's, you're not going anywhere' type of feeling. When he shut off the light, he whispered in my ear. "You see...if you listen to what I tell you I won't have to hurt you, I don't want to but I want specific things done...so if you do as told, you won't get hurt...you understand me?" he kissed the back of my ear as I responded "Yes"
"Damé un beso" I turned around to face him and gave him a sweet kiss and let it linger for a while. Somehow it escalated into a full make-out session. I enjoyed these little moments I had with him. After that little spark of happiness, I lay my head on his chest and felt asleep knowing that in my dreams we are back to being the perfect couple. I know that at the end of the day, no matter how bad he treats me, I can't help but come back to him. I love this man so much, no matter how many times he hit me. It's not his fault he is like this... it's mine.... right?

Maybe...but the reason why I put up with so much of his shit all these years, is not only because he's the father of my child but it's much more than that. I always know that; at the end of the day, his physical love can be the best fix for our relationship. It always has been that way ever since we met. There is just something in the way he kisses or even touches me that instantly makes me forget all the fucked-up shit he has done during the day.