Heart Throb

He held the gun firmly to my skull. I could feel my chest moving up and down with each breath. His face was so close to mine that I could look directly into his bloodshot eyes, and see the sadness welling up inside of him.

"Erik, honey. What's wrong?" I stroked his hair. He moved the gun closer. "Tell me, baby. We can try to work things out."

"Shut up, bitch. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth," Erik said, his lips so close to mine that I could feel the words vibrate my eardrums.

There was nothing to do but sit here and wait it out. I couldn't do anything when he was like this. This was his second fit in two weeks. The gun wasn't loaded. So I wasn't worried about it. It couldn't be loaded. It was a water pistol. A little orange plastic handgun.

I shook my leg with the anticipation of Erik's next move. He was so predictable. I looked at the comforter on the bed. It needed to be washed. Its flowerd design looked faded from all the years of use. Maybe I would just buy a new one. I wasn't sure.

"Did you say something bitch?" he asked looking into my eyes. I didn't say anything. "I said, did you say something?"

"No, I didn't. You know that, so I don't know why you asked." I crossed my arms. "Honey, I still love you."

"What?" He blinked but cletched the gun tighter. "Do you want to go to McDoanld's?"

I nodded my head. "Sure, why not?"

Erik put down the gun, and grabbed for my hand. He smiled at me and looked into my eyes. "I love you too."

We walked to the car holding hands. 
¶ 9:09 AM |