Green-Eyed Monster

“Get up.”

I shifted a little without opening my eyes. I was still half-asleep, unsure if I was really hearing something or I was still dreaming.

A painful blow to my shin gave me my answer. My eyes shot open immediately, already watering as I moaned, instinctively pulling my leg up to my chest and I rubbing the bone up and down.

“I’m not sure what makes you think it’s okay to just ignore me.”

Zacky was turned around, searching through a drawer in the bureau. He was still half-naked, wearing only a pair of gym shorts and his black hair was spiky and dripping from his shower.

“I wasn’t - “

“Save it, Sarah. I’m not in the mood. Matt and Brian will be here in less than an hour,” he said without turning around. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that I was in pain, but he usually didn’t, “and I’d like you at least looking presentable.”

My leg hurt, but it was nothing compared to the realization that my dream last night had been so far from reality. It had been a good dream. My eyes filled with tears and I squeezed my arms tight around my middle as the pain spread to my chest. The loss of the man I loved left an ache in my heart worse than any pain I’d ever experienced.

I was in the kitchen cutting up vegetables for the soup I was preparing for dinner, when I caught him staring at me from the doorway.

At first I was startled. I hadn’t expected him home for at least another hour. I liked to have some time to prepare myself. It was still so new - the abuse - that it caught me off guard.

I’d stopped, halfway through cutting a carrot, and stared at him. Reading him, trying to figure out his mood, his sobriety, his level of aggression.

He smiled at me, a certain glimmer in his bright, beautiful, emerald eyes, and somehow then I knew that he was safe, at least for the moment. And so, despite the anxiety that had first rippled through my belly, I smiled back. A genuine smile.

It scared me - the effect that he still sometimes had over me, especially back when it first started. Most times when he was like this, it was like I forgot everything that had happened between us. All of the hurt, the pain, the abuse… it was gone. All he’d have to do is smile at me and the butterflies would begin flapping their wings in the pit of my stomach like we were seventeen years old again.

He walked over to me, closing the distance between us, and as he did so, my heart began to beat faster, a natural reaction to him coming anywhere remotely close to me. Natural now, anyway. He placed his hand over mine, gently unlatching my fingers from the knife. For a split second, intense fear shot through my entire body and I backed away several steps. I knew the terror must have been evident on my face as his eyes narrowed slightly with confusion as he set the knife down on the cutting board.

Of course, I was the one being dangerous. He’d only been trying to help.

He took a few cautious steps toward me, raising his arm to my face, as I winced slightly, instinctively taking a half-step backward. I thought I saw his eyes flash for just a moment as he watched me, before he gently touched his hand to the side of my face and I closed my eyes, leaning into his warmth. He rubbed my chin with the back of his thumb, before slowly tilting my head toward his. Then he smiled and closed his eyes, before pressing his lips softly against mine.

His kiss was familiar and comforting. His soft, full lips guiding mine. The metallic taste of his lip ring. The soft, involuntary moan that escaped his lips when I gently sucked his tongue. It was nothing like the aggressive, purely lust-driven kisses we shared now. I'd missed this. It had been so long since we’d shared a kiss like this and I’d forgotten how wonderful it felt.

I felt his lips curve into a smile mid-kiss and I smiled too, my heart beating fast, only this time not due to fear.

Normally by now he'd have pushed me up against the wall, lifted me onto the counter or carried me to the bedroom, already unlatching his belt buckle as he did so.

“You know how much I love you, right baby?” he whispered. “More than anything in the whole world.”

He wrapped his large, colorful arms around my small frame and this time, I barely flinched. I hugged him back just as tightly, pressing my face against his chest. I breathed deeply, his natural smell coupled with his cologne equally as comforting. It made me remember the old times. The good times. I couldn’t help the few tears that slipped down my cheeks.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

And I did love him. Today, yesterday, and always. No matter how many times he’d hurt me - physically, mentally, emotionally - I still loved him just as much as I did seven years ago when I first fell in love with him. Just as much as I did when he’d asked me to marry him and I’d burst into tears, hardly believing that I could be so lucky.

I couldn’t stop the small sob that escaped my lips and I quickly forced my fist against my mouth, stifling the noise as my body shook slightly with the force of my emotions.

I felt Zacky’s hand fall onto my lap and I tensed, my body rigid with fear.

“Why are you crying?”

His voice was soft, but his eyes were almost accusing. I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing that I needed to answer him.

“It’s nothing, Zack,” I murmured, “I’m just - “

He dragged his hand off my thigh and sighed loudly in frustration.

“I knew you'd say something like that. You know, I’m really getting sick of this. I come home from months of touring while you sit on your ass in this nice house I’ve given you. And I don’t ask for much, do I?”

I noticed that he was slurring his words slightly and as he paced the floor he stumbled a few times. I wondered how much he’d had to drink already this morning. He came back over to me now and looked down at me, arms folded across his chest, and I had no choice but to look up at him.

“But you’re never happy, are you? Never satisfied.”

I looked at the anger spread across his face. The way his once bright, beautiful eyes seemed to turn dark and menacing and the lips I once loved to kiss, turned thin and colorless.

Sometimes, like last night, I liked to watch him while he was sleeping. It was the closest I ever came to seeing my husband again.

I’d gone to bed without him, but woken up late at night to find him lying next to me. He’d been getting home late the past few nights, spending extra time at the studio, (or so he said.) But it was the way I’d found him that got me. He’d passed out fully clothed and sitting up, facing me with his back leaned against the headboard, his head lolling forward slightly against his pillow. His fingers were outstretched toward me, nearly touching my arm. I remember I’d had this strange urge to adjust his head so he could lie down, tuck him in under the covers. But I knew that was out of the question. Still, I leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. His breath reeked of alcohol, but I didn’t care.

I lay down, pulling the covers around my body and watched his face. It was peaceful. So different from how it appeared now. His eyes fluttered slightly in his sleep and his pouty lips were parted, the sound of his soft, even breathing so innocent and calming. His angelic face was the last thing that I saw before I dozed off, his rhythmic breathing lulling me to sleep.

Zacky gripped my shoulder tight and I snapped back to reality.

“You weren’t even listening, were you?” he growled.

It felt like my shoulder was being squeezed in a vice. It was all I could do not to cry out in pain.

“Zack, please… ” I whimpered.

“You really think it’s okay to ignore me, huh? In case you’ve forgotten, we’re married. I talk to you, you listen. I ask you a question, you answer it. Is it really that difficult?”

He looked into my tear-filled, pleading eyes and let out a soft humorless laugh, with a shake of his head.

“You know what? Whatever. Fuck it. Just go get ready.”

I decided that I’d already pissed him off enough already and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I winced slightly upon standing up as pain radiated all the way down my bad leg. With all the strength I could muster, I made it to the hallway with minimal limping.

The fact that Brian and Matt were coming over did give me a bit of energy, even hope. You see, Zack wasn’t an idiot. He knew how to behave when others were around. Especially his best friends. If they knew how he treated me, they would no doubt beat his ass to protect me.

So many times I’ve wanted to tell them. Anyone, really. But Zacky had made threats. Threats that I wasn’t sure he’d actually follow through with, but threats too great that I was much too terrified to find out. So I didn’t tell. I kept it to myself; pretended that I was still hopelessly in love with him. He played his part well, too. Called me beautiful, showed affection. He became a completely different person. Perhaps we should both have a go in the business of acting what with how perfectly we are able to fool them all.

I flicked the switch for the light above the mirror in the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I wanted to lock the door, but knew I couldn’t. That would seriously set him off. I know. I’ve done it before.

I reached my arm into the shower, pushing up on the lever to start the water. I turned the dials as the water began to heat up, setting it to a comfortable temperature, before beginning to strip my clothes off. I gasped as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked terrible. My eyes were red and bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep and the bruise on my cheek was more prominent this morning. I pressed my fingers against it lightly and winced. It was a rather nasty looking one, already having turned a sickening blue-ish purple color.

The bruise on my cheek could be mostly hidden with make-up, but the one already forming on my shoulder would be considerably more difficult to hide. With the sun streaming in through the skylight, I could already tell it was going to be a hot one. How exactly do you explain wearing a long-sleeved shirt in nearly 100-degree weather?

I tore my eyes away from my body and jumped into the shower, knowing I didn’t have much time. I tilted my head back, allowing the hot water relax me. I reached for the shampoo and massaged it through my hair.

I heard the shower curtain move and I jumped, nearly falling on the slippery floor of the shower, before Zacky’s arms gripped onto me, steadying me. I winced at the pain in my shoulder and shifted uncomfortably until he let go.

“Hey,” he breathed, with a dazed smile. He was staring at my breasts and I found myself folding my arms across my body, feeling self-conscious. It made me sick to my stomach when he looked at me that way. He had fucking no right to look at me like that anymore.

“Playing hard to get, huh?” he whispered. “Well, I like that too.”

His hands found my waist and he stared into my eyes, licking his lips. I didn’t give him the satisfaction. I stood stiffly, keeping my face expressionless.

He reached in to kiss me, soft at first, but quickly intensifying it as I was pushed up against the shower wall. I had no choice but to kiss him back. I’d tried that before too - standing there defiantly while he tried to kiss me. He’d slapped me hard right across the face.

He broke away from my lips, breathing heavily, and began sucking on my neck. I forced what I hoped was a convincing sound of pleasure. While I hated to show him that anything he did pleased me, I knew it would only lead to more problems if he felt like any less of a man.

“You like that baby?” he breathed. He attached his lips to mine again and tangled his fingers in my wet strands of hair. “Tell me. Tell me you want it.”

He rested his head against my chest, panting, waiting for me to say something. I closed my eyes and swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat.

“Fuck me, Zack,” I whispered.

He wasted no time shoving himself into me. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to cry out in pain. It’s not like he’d care. He wouldn’t stop to ask me if I was okay - of course not. But I liked to believe I was stronger than that.

I remember how much I used to enjoy it. How much I used to enjoy him. On our wedding night he covered our bed in rose petals and lined the room with candles. We spent the whole night and the majority of the next day in bed together, laughing when our sweaty bodies got coated with the flower petals. We were crazy for each other back then.

At least with the water falling down around us, he wouldn’t notice the tears in my eyes. The truth was, I felt nothing but pain and disgust when we had sex now. But this part I’d gotten used to. I’d close my eyes and try to think of anything other than the present moment. I didn’t bother to tell him “no” anymore. In the beginning, it would make him angry:

“We’re fucking married,” he’d seethed. “You can’t tell me ‘no’.”

But shortly after, he’d just started to ignore me. And after awhile, I just gave up. Learned ways to deal with the pain, ways to fake my pleasure and ways to clear my mind to keep from vomiting.

Was it still rape if it was your husband?

“Sarah,” he moaned loudly, and I came to, feeling him finish inside me. I nearly fell over, my legs like jelly, but he wrapped his arm around my waist, his other arm braced on the handle on the wall.

Once he felt I was steady he let go, and I grabbed the same handle for support. My muscles were so tired and sore. All I wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever.

He rinsed himself off in the jet of water and then pulled the shower curtain, stepping out.

“Alright, hurry up,” he said. “They should be here soon.”

I heard the door open and then a moment’s hesitation. “And cover that bruise,” he added as an afterthought.

I heard the door shut behind him and I slowly let out a shaky breath that I had been holding with a small sob. I reached for the body wash and squirted some onto the loofa. I began scrubbing my skin roughly all over, even as my aching body screamed in protest, trying to clean myself of him completely.