15-05-2021-052358It-Ends-with-Us

He pushed me away.
“You fell down the stairs.”
But I didn’t fall.
He pushed me. Again.
That’s twice.
You pushed me, Ryle.
I can feel my whole body start to shake with the sobs. I have no idea
how bad I’m hurt, but I don’t even care. No physical pain could even
compare to what my heart is feeling in this moment. I start to slap at
his hands, wanting him away from me. I feel him lift off the bed as I
curl up into a ball.
I wait for him to try and soothe it out like he did the last time he
hurt me, but it never comes. I hear him walking around our
bedroom. I don’t know what he’s doing. I’m still crying when he
kneels down in front of me.
“You might have a concussion,” he says, matter-of-fact. “You have a
small cut on your lip. I just bandaged up the cut on your eye. You
don’t need stitches.”
His voice is cold.
“Does it hurt anywhere else? Your arms? Legs?”
He sounds just like a doctor and nothing like a husband.
“You pushed me,” I say through tears. It’s all I can think or say or
see.
“You fell,” he says calmly. “About five minutes ago. Right after I
found out what a fucking liar I married.” He places something on my
pillow next to me. “If you need anything, I’m sure you can call this
number.”
I look at the crumpled up piece of paper by my head that holds
Atlas’s phone number.
“Ryle,” I sob.
What is happening?
I hear the front door slam.
My whole world comes crashing down around me.
“Ryle,” I whisper to no one. I cover my face with my hands and I cry
harder than I’ve ever cried. I am destroyed.
Five minutes.
That’s all it takes to completely destroy a person.