HOW TO RUIN YOUR LIFE (LGBTQ+)

30

Persia was waiting in the bedroom when her husband arrived.

He walked in, his gait steady for once, closing the door behind him. "Hey, babe."

Persia's bedside lamp was dim, and she smiled softly as he stripped and crawled into bed beside her. The bruising on her face was still fresh, but fading quickly. She'd yelled at him, and had quickly learned her lesson.

He touched her neck, and whispered, "I'm sorry. You know I am."

Persia closed her book, grabbing his hand, bringing it down into the light to lace fingers with hers. His knuckles were bruised, one of them completely split. She grabbed it, staring at the scab that was just barely beginning to form, feeling her gut twist.

"What's this from?" she asked softly.

"Oh," he chuckled. "I got in an altercation with one of my buddies tonight."

Persia swallowed, looking down at her husband. "I don't see any bruises on you."

"He's not a great fighter, babe. It's fine, okay?"

Persia released his hand, letting it fall onto the bed, and leaned over to switch the lamp off. She turned away from her husband, lying on her side facing the wall. He left her alone, seeming to sense her apprehension.

He's lying.

He knows I know he's lying.

And Persia couldn't do anything about it. He'd canceled her phone plan, so she couldn't reach out to either of her siblings. He was the only one with a car, so she couldn't drive away.

Not that she wanted to.

She loved her husband, more than anything.

He was the most important person to her in the world.

Right?

Persia squeezed her eyes shut as her husband began snoring, remembering the conversations he'd had with his friends, his bruised knuckles, Asa's arrogance and nonchalance.

"Please...please be okay," she whispered into the darkness.

-

When Joe woke up, it was dark out.

Cleo was asleep in the treehouse, where I'd taken her, and told her to stay put until I came and got her, or she'd be dead. We'd both be dead.

The second part was just a speculation, but I added it, hoping that it would keep Cleo from leaving. She'd seemed convinced enough.

Star was upstairs, sleeping in my bed. I had let her inspect my bruises and cracked ribs and then laid down on the bed with her. She'd wanted to just go to sleep, stressed out from the day, which I completely understood and was grateful for.

But I wasn't going to leave my brother alone.

It was just a flesh wound, but I would be there when he woke up.

My body was aching, my head was pounding, and my thoughts were all melted together, but I did what I wanted anyway. I'd grabbed a bottle of whiskey, took a couple shots to ease the pain in my body and head, and sat on the coffee table, watching Joe as he slept.

And now, he was blinking, coming to.

"Shit-" he gasped, jerking forward.

I threw a hand out, pressing against his chest as he shuddered in pain, easing him back down onto the sofa. "Don't get up."