My hand shivers as it reaches for the stark,metal handle of the door but it's violently flinched by Anita's outrage:
" OPEN UP THE FUCKING DOOR YOU CUNT!!! I DIDN'T WORK ALL DAY LONG JUST TO HAVE YOU SLEEP"
She bangs on the door, again, almost shaking the door. The door has a secure state of the art electronic unlocking system but it seems she wants me to welcome her, like a queen, and his slave, licking the floor behind her as she walks gracefully, without a care in the world.
"I'm here, just give me a sec, okay?"
No response.
I gulp nervously and open the door, revealing a forced smile plastered across Anita's face as I welcome her into her oh-so precious abode.
"W-welcome home, love. Did you have a bad da-"
Anita slaps my face hard, making me wobble, bringing me down to my knees as I take a few steps back. She might not be nowhere as strong as a man, but damn, slaps from women are a league apart from a punch from a man.
"I WORK MY ASS OFF ALL DAY LONG AND YOU TAKE THIS LONG TO OPEN TEH FUCKING DOOR YOU BITCH??! WHAT WERE YOU DOING, HUH? IS THERE A WHORE IN THIS HOUSE I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF?"
"I-I was just busy cooking, love. I'm sorry for opening the late. Y-You were scaring me from banging it that hard, making me think it was an intruder or something."
I lie through my teeth to save face in front of Anita, with my ears ringing from the slap she just gave me. I know lying to win over her instead of being honest is the way, as being brutally honest as gave me many black eyes and beatings over this course of marriage.
"Hm. Okay, I'll take your word for it. Only because you seem so fucking cute with your hair styled and cut now."
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
She kneels down and ruffles my hair raising a bunch of hair strands up into the air as she watches my black hair turn into dark brown as the light hits the strands in a couple different angles. Anita puts her hand on my chin and turns my head around to see the sides.
"OOOOO, what's this hairstyle called, Adrian?"
"A short wolfcut. I cut it short on the sides and on the back and up top since it becomes a pain because of the sweat. Also, I like feeling the wind on my bareskin of my head."
She offers me a hand. I stare at it skeptically before taking her up on the offer and getting up with a sigh. She then goes back and closes the door, before placing her back on it. She looks at me with a smile across her face.
"It looks pretty nice on you, not gonna lie. I'm glad you actually found a haircut that suits your face fairly nice."
Her face turns sour in a split-second.
"But, hey, doesn't this hair make you look like a total fuck-boy?"
"D-Does it?"
"Yes,it absolutelyfuckingdoes. I mean look at it!"
Anita makes rounds around me glancing and taking in all the angles by which I'm perceived through
"Yep! You look like one of those guys who'll cheat on their hard-working and loyal wife with some skank while she's at her office slaving away her precious hours."
"I-I won't do anything like that, what the fuck?! That's an insane accusation. You know I would never do that, right?"
"I know you won't. Want me to remind you what happened the last time a girl flirted with you, and you flirted back? Thought so."
I sigh as I face these allegations, but in reality, it was simply a barista asking me if I wanted extra sugar in my chocolate chip coffee while Anita was with me. We argued the drive back home. According to her book, that was me and her flirting. She made it clear once we reached home that she wasn't having any of it as she held me down and flogged me, giving me scars that still ache if I glide my fingers across them.
I gulp as I have to defend myself otherwise, I'll end up in a ditch, sooner or later.