There is not too much that feels worse than a broken nose followed by a bout of vomiting. No wonder prize fighters fought for such large sums. He didn’t mean to hit me so hard. Well he must be getting old and soft after so many years. At this rate in another millennia he will be downright huggable.
What did I respond? Well, I wanted to respond with a snarled “I want you dead”, but no instead I uttered, “Well, I shouldn’t have been so argumentative.” What I am is crazy for having stayed tonight. A sensible woman would have run and run fast and never, never turned herself around.
Where would that take me? Where would I go. My daughter lived hundreds of miles away. I hadn’t any access to cash, hubby saw to that. I didn’t have a driver’s license or any other identification to open an account if I did get away from him. Hell I could not even prove I existed.
My mother, bless her black soul wouldn’t take me in because, to quote her, “you brought this on yourself, your bed, you lie in it.” Despite my daughter’s friendlier disposition she had always taken my hints and utterly ignored them changing the subjects abruptly and cheerfully. Usually the topic would switch to how terribly terribly overburdened she and Donald were with those four children, all their bills and a very small house. Yeah, wonder why that topic of conversation habitually came up. She did it so masterfully I even asked hubby for some funds to give to my”cash strapped daughter, raising the topic got me a rousing backhand much like the one tonight. I never minded being a punching bag for the benefit of my daughter, I’d done it her whole life, and she knew, though it was rarely mentioned, she knew.
So here I was, in a bathroom throwing up blood I’d swallowed when almost certainly he’s broken my nose again, and while mopping up the floor after myself, he was bitching about the coffee still not having found it’s way into his coffee mug. Bastard!
