Only Say My Name

She had found texts on his phone to a girl that wasn’t her more than once. Her only response was to scream at him, to throw his phone, to push him. And he would push back, he would yell back. He always did something to set her off and he always blamed her. She was too distant one day and too needy the next and too flirty with strangers another. He felt entitled to reach out to others, and she felt entitled to retaliate.

But she always came back. She left long enough for him to miss her.

He drove her insane, really. She was just as crazy, to be perfectly honest, but even she has limits.

She found him in bed with another woman, her face a blur as she left quickly, embarrassed. But his, his face was perfectly clear, the lights of their bedroom on and blinding.

She remembered not being able to respond like she usually would, no anger to throw at him. Just emptiness washing over her and words she could barely even hear, “Sorrysorrysorry.”

This wasn’t like those other times. She had never suspected that he had been with the women he had been texting—it was just a game they played, trying to beat the other. She made him jealous, he made her jealous, each trying to teach the other where they belong. But now, all she could think was, whatifwhatifwhatif?

When had the game stopped being a game?

She left, not knowing where to go.