Sitting on the couch, I look to my left. A grandfather clock chimes the hour. In front of me sits the fireplace, with a roaring fire keeping the house warm and cozy. Comet, my fluffy little dog, is curled into a ball on the floor beside the fireplace. I get up and look out the window, where I see big fat snowflakes, and two children playing tag. I smile, remembering the days when I used to do that.

The hiss of the kettle on the stove pulls my attention to the right, to the kitchen. I walk towards it, going to make tee, when the front door slams. Heavy footsteps fall through the hallway, coming closer and closer to me. “Honey, I'm home!” sounds through the house.

Fear strikes through my whole body. I'd done this several times. I could either escape, or stay put and hope it was a good day. I had about two seconds to run, but I'd waited too long. If I ran up the stairs, he'd see me and come after me. So I stayed in the kitchen, and hoped for the best. “I'm making tea! Would you like some?” I called back, hoping he didn't hear the nervous shake in my voice.

I heard him flop onto the couch, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “No, just bring me a beer.” Not a please. Not a “No, I can get what I want!” But by now, I'm more than use to it. I expect it. So I grab a beer from the fridge and walk it out to the living room. Comet is no longer in front of the fireplace, but I don't blame him for escaping. I envy him.

“You better put make up on that thing. Just looking at you with it makes me wanna puke,” he says, referring to the bruise he put over my eye yesterday.

“It's your fault it's there...” I said under my breath as I turned to walk back to the kitchen. His hand snaked out and grabbed my wrist so tight I knew it would leave marks.

“What did you just say?” he sneered at me. I was careful to keep my face turned away from him and hidden behind my hair, to hide the pure fear I knew was showing on my face. “Turn around and look at me!” I did so, reluctantly.

His hand went from trapping my wrist, to slowly moving around my waist and caressing the small of my back. He pulled me closely to him, and stroked a finger down the length of my jaw so gently I would have thought it was someone else had I not been looking into his eyes that instantly warmed when he touched me. It was a side of him I hadn't seen in a very long time. I was standing there, waiting for the moment to shatter when he whispered, “I'm sorry. I hate fighting with you. I forgot what it feels like just to simply hold you.”

I didn't know what to say, afraid that if I said something it would ruin everything. He fluttered a kiss over my black eye, and lightly brushed his finger over it. I kept my eyes closed, reveling in the feeling over it all. And when his lips lightly brushed a kiss across mine, I kissed him back with everything I had. When he pulled away, we were both out of breath. “I love you,” he whispered as I was opening my eyes.

I was looking into his warm brown eyes when they suddenly turned cold and hard. I tried to pull away, but his arm was no longer caressing my waist, but rather trapping me against his hard body. His hand was gripping my chin so hard I couldn't move. His hand snaked out and smacked my cheek, leaving a path of fire. “But don't ever talk bad about me.” He let go of me so fast I fell onto my back. He turned and left, leaving me shocked and not knowing what to do.