Our first apartment! I am so excited. It is all set up, just right. I stare at the dining room table and imagine posh dinner parties a-la Sex in the City.
There was a brick and tile fireplace.
We are fighting. Again. I am thrown on the ground, head repeatedly beat against the fireplace until it is throbbing. I am thrown on the bed and shaken violently for what seemed like hours. Screaming inches from my face. I go limp, hoping that makes it stop. He lets go. I run and hide under the computer desk, blocking him with the chair. He kicks the chair and calls me pathetic. He goes to bed. I don't.
The next morning, he sobs his regrets.
I hand him the phone.
Call your mother and tell her what you did.
I thought the shame would be enough to prevent it from happening again.