Freedom Fought

Ch 3 Broken Dishes

TW: gendered slurs and descriptions of DV

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Jeremy pulled into the driveway of the home he shared with Penelope. None of the lights are on, maybe she fell asleep, it was past midnight. He’d actually gotten off work almost three hours ago, but he was at the bar with one of the hostesses from the restaurant he managed. He told her he and his wife were separated and she was very, VERY sympathetic. He took the keys from the ignition and stepped out of his truck. His size 12 shoe hitting the ground solidly and crunching the gravel beneath it. At 6’3, solidly built, with auburn hair and green eyes, he was very handsome. He knew it. He never let Penny forget. He was tall, charming, and attractive and she was just short, not even quite 5’ and he called her pudgey. She had full, round hips and an ample chest, but her waist was small, just a little untoned. He knew she was self conscious about it and any times he felt like she was getting little too self confident, he’d ask her if she had gained a little weight. It kept her just enough off balance.

Jason turned his key in the front door and pushed it open, no sounds anywhere. He threw his keys on the couch, purposefully ignoring the bowl on the table by the door for keys. He flipped on the living room lights and turned left towards the dining room and turned the lights on there as well. Then he spotted the pile on the table. Credit cards, keys, a cell phone, a garage door opener and next to it all, a folded piece of paper. He instantly knew what it was but he tried to suspend his belief. Surely that little b***h didn’t have the balls to actually do it. He picked up the envelope, clumsily ripping it open as rage began to course through him. Unfolding it with shaking hands he read. That b***h! That selfish, w***e! He couldn’t even call her and tell her to get her ass back home.

Where was she? Who helped her? Some man? He was going to get them both. He was going to rip them to pieces. His anger was swelling inside him. He picked up all her belongings on the table and threw them across the room. It wasn’t enough so he flipped the table over too. She needed to be punished so he went into the kitchen and yanked open a cabinet and snatched up the pile of plates and threw them on the floor. He got out her expensive pots and pans and banged them into the granite counter, denting them all over. He went into her bathroom and all the makeup was gone. The only thing she left behind was a bottle of perfume he bought her. He picked it up and whipped it into the bathroom mirror, cracking the vanity and shattering the bottle, splashing floral perfume everywhere. When he got her back, she would see the consequences. The fact that she left it behind enraged him, but it was just another testament to how little he understood her. She didn’t even like floral scents, she liked fruit and sandalwood.

He’d never known such rage in his life. She was his! She’d sworn it, not just in the chapel at their wedding, but countless times beside it. She’d sworn she would never leave him holding his hand watching TV, glancing over at him in the car while she drove, while he was deep inside her, when he was wrapping his hands around her neck, when he was slamming her into walls. Yes, she had promised to never leave because he couldn’t live without her. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone, he hated her more than he’d ever hated anyone. He needed her and if she thought she didn’t him anymore, she was going to learn the hard way.

He left the bathroom and turned right down the hallway, stripping as he walked and then climbed into bed. He looked over to her empty spot and for just a moment he allowed himself to wonder if this was for the best. Maybe he should just let her go and they could just start fresh. For just a moment he remembered that he didn’t used to hurt her. He remembered when she loved him more than she feared him. But it was too late now.

NO! “I love her and she’s MINE and I can love her as I see fit. I’ll drag her home screaming if I have to.”