Page 29 of Save Me

“Yes! You!” Is he serious right now? I’m so confused, warring between deep anger and also the desire to shrug it all off cause he’s finally wanting to be close.

Arthur’s expression turns dark a split second before he sneers, “You know what’s fucking bullshit? I work all goddamn day fucking saving people.” His face gets progressively redder, and then he grabs the couch cushion and hurls it across the room.

For a second, I stand there in shock.

“And all I get when I come home is the ways I’m not fucking good enough!” Another couch cushion flies close to the kitchen island, and my heart starts racing. That was close to me. But then I immediately shrug it off. He’s just blowing off steam.

“Nag, nag, nag, fucking nag.” Arthur rips the last cushion, and he flings it. I realize too late that it’s flying at me. I duck, but not before it hits me with a solid thwap into my torso that makes me stagger back a step.

Arthur continues to look for pillows to throw, and he drags the cushion seats up.

I struggle to catch my breath, everything feeling like it’s moving in slow motion.

Arthur glances up, sees me, and for a second, all I see is hatred in his eyes–all I see is Dad.

Arthur’s expression melts as he sees the cushion on the floor next to me.

“Babe.” He rushes over, and I take a step back.

Arthur crowds into my space. “Oh fuck, babe, I’m so sorry.”

I shove him away, cheeks on fire. All kinds of conflicting emotions are running through me right now: embarrassment, shock, and disbelief. He threw something at me?

Arthur continues to apologize, showering kisses down on my head that I try to step away from. The smell of alcohol on him is overpowering, and I just need a break. I just need space to sort this out.

“Just…ugh, just go to bed.” We can’t have this conversation now, and I need to figure out my thoughts.

Arthur lets out a sob. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, babe. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t know what came over me.” He traps me in a hug, holding me to his body in a crushing grip. I know better than to fight. If I just stand here, he’ll get tired eventually and move on. So I stay, frozen, wondering what the hell went wrong in our relationship to get us here.

The pillows turn into plates, which turn into the TV remote. The TV remote is always within arm’s reach of Arthur, and the edges start turning white from the paint on the walls until it stops getting white because it starts hitting something softer.

Me.

“I thought you said we were soulmates.” Arthur stares at something on the counter, completely still.

Very still.

I slow, four bags of groceries hanging from my hands. Arthur won’t look at me, so he has to be mad. But about what I’m not sure.

I stop shy of the counter, putting on a soft voice. “Uh, we are.”

I look to see if my response has loosened his shoulders.

Nothing.

Blood races in my ears. What the hell is wrong? I rattle through everything. Is there a bill unpaid? Did I forget an anniversary?

“Is…everything okay?” I ask, voice hesitant. If I pretend like nothing’s wrong, he’ll get pissed, but if I act too nervous, he’ll think I did something. Which I don’t think I did.

Arthur’s hands ball into fists, and my gaze locks in on them. I saw Dad do that a few times before he really beat our asses.

“Jared? Really?” Arthur turns, showing me papers. On them, it looks like…screenshots of my conversation with him? Jared asked me last week if I wanted to go out for pizza with him and his roommates. I declined because Arthur was gonna be home from work early that day, and I wanted to spend time with him.

Then I glance down further, remembering with dread what Jared said.

Jared: I mean, you could just come. Arthur doesn’t like pizza anyway.

I glance up, and Arthur is meeting my gaze, and his eyes are very, very dark. Black. Suddenly, the blood is roaring past my ears, and all I can see is those black eyes because fuck, that’s what Dad looked like.