Emily, Please Don't Go Away

Eighteen

 I was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching TV, when I heard a car door slam. As I stood, the front door swung open. Gerard stormed inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Hey, baby. Bad day at work?" I asked cautiously. He narrowed his eyes at me as he stepped forward.

"Who did you talk to today?" He asked sharply. I shook my head. He put his hand to my throat. "I'll ask you one more time. Who did you see today?"

"Frankie came by to-" His grip tightened, making it harder to speak.

"To what? Seems real fucking fishy that he waited 'til I left before he came by," he growled. I tried to pry his hand away as I shook my head.

"He was just seeing if we needed anything. He didn't even know who was home," I choked out. He laughed bitterly.

"Sure he didn't," he sneered. "Are you fucking him?"

"What?"

"Are. You. Fucking. Him." He yelled. I cringed as I shook my head.

"No!" I cried. He rolled his eyes and tossed me to the floor.

"Is he better than me? Does he make you happier? How is it? Is it fun?" He roared. I shrunk back. "Is that what gets you off? Fucking our neighbor while I'm at work, trying to provide for you?!" He turned away from me.

"It's not like that!"

"Oh, really? Then, tell me how it is, Emily. I'd really love to know why I'm not enough for you!"

"Stop saying that! I literally talked with him for maybe ten minutes! He asked how we were liking the area and whether or not we needed help with anything. He was just trying to be a good neighbor." He twisted back towards me.

"So, now, you're defending him?" He asked calmly. I started to shake my head, but the back of his hand met my face. I felt the blood trickle down from my lip. I wiped it away and glared at him.

"Enough is enough, Gerard. I am your wife, not your goddamn prisoner!" I screamed. "You can't just hold me hostage. I need to get out of the house. I need socialization. I need to not be suffocated by your fucking jealousy!"

"Oh, you're suffocated? I'm too much for you? Then, fucking leave! Go and run to your precious Frankie. Maybe he can make you happy."

"For fuck's sake, how in the hell is this an arugment about him? I've literally seen the guy twice. In the almost two months we've lived here, I've spoken to him twice. You need to get over yourself," I spat. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face only inches from his.

"You need to watch your tone when you are talking to me. I will not have it. You will respect me," he snarled. The anger raged inside me.

"I'll respect you when you give me a reason to." His lips formed a twisted grin.

"When I give you a reason?" He laughed to himself. He pushed me away forcefully, knocking me into the wall. "I haven't yet?" He yelled. He punched the wall beside my head. "I've done everything for you!" He struck the wall repeatedly until his fist went through the drywall.

"You're bleeding..." I pointed out, starting to feel remorse. I shouldn't have pushed it. I made it worse than it would've been. As he held his hand, I went to the kitchen to grab a damp towel. I brought it back and gently wrapped his hand.

"I... I know you didn't... You wouldn't cheat on me... I don't know why I'm like this," he sighed in defeat. "I thought I would get better... You don't deserve this. I'm not good for you..."

"Hey," I whispered gently as I pushed his hair out of his eyes. "We'll make it. For better or worse, remember?" His eyes searched my face, and he cringed. His non-wounded hand reached out and touched my lips gently.

"This is so much worse... I can never forgive myself for hurting you. I promised to take care of you and to protect you, and yet, I'm the one who is causing you pain..."

"We'll get them to change your medication. We'll figure it out... We're a team," I reassured him.

"I swear to God, I would die without you..."