Each time I tried to push their boundaries, to tell them to fuck off, they would belittle me, humiliate me, remove the food from my plate, and let me go to sleep with an empty belly or a couple almonds if I apologized.
I felt dirty there. Sad. Vulnerable.
Inferior.
And I hated it. So, so much.
Something had always been missing from my life, the want to feel alive, as if I had spent an entire life with chains around me.
I didn’t want to have to endure a loveless marriage beside a man who would expect me to change for him. What would be the point of waking up every day to try to fit some mold just to realize you’ll always be a disappointment for everyone?
My parents wanted a perfect daughter, quiet, discreet. I was wild, speaking before thinking, jumping out of the window when I was tired of their rules and curfews. They wanted a bright girl to shove it in front of other people's faces. I had failed miserably three years in a row in different majors until finishing my degree at twenty-three.
They had tried to marry me at eighteen, twice. I ran away each time.
They knew their only leverage was Kiara.
They just knew where to push to really, really hurt me.
I couldn’t go back. It wasn’t home, it had never been.
But where was home now?
As I take the rest of the cash from my red tote bag, I sigh and look one last time at my husband. He’s sleeping, his armbehind his head as I watch one last time the ink dancing on his abs, regret and sadness painted in my mind.
Was he my home now?
You know he is, Mia. You’re running away.
You’re deflecting.
Clothed with my purple velvety loungewear set, I fold the cash in my pocket and tiptoe my way out of the room, knowing deep down that something is off.
You’re making a mistake.
There is no sound in the hallway, no light but the one of the moon shining through the massive windows. I make my way to the entry, putting on my white and golden sneakers and then checking my phone battery one last time. I just need to find a taxi or a bus station, and go somewhere.Anywhere where I can have a fresh start. Perhaps if my father believed I was dead, he would drop the whole Kiara forced marriage threat now that he had lost his bargaining power? Can’t argue with a dead person, right? I’d find my way back to Kiara, let her know I was okay. And maybe, maybe convince her to join me wherever I go.
There is no plan. Whatever I’m doing is bad, poorly prepared, rushed, and messy. Just like me. But I don’t know any better.
All I know is that I need the air to whip my face.
I need the branches to snatch my skin.
I need to feel alive.
And I need it now.
Ares
I thought I’d be mad, or disappointed at least, but none ofthese thoughts came to my mind as I heard my wife leave our bed in the middle of the night.
Hurt. That’s what it was. To know that she felt the need to do this, to leave me without even facing me, to take nothing but the clothes on her back. Not only was it a testament to her courage but also to the fact that Mia didn’t need all this crap. That she wasn’t like the one that lived here before her. I already knew it, but seeing it, watching her ready to give up any sense of comfort just to get out of here, just to get out of a life with me…
Fuck. It hurt like a knife shoved in my heart.
I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to see that there was a place for her here. That I wasn’t just a jerk trying to piss her off. That I could, damn, that I could take care of her and make sure she’d be fulfilled. I’m rough around the edges, I fucking know that, but Mia made me see that I could be something else. That I didn’t have to always act with a guarded fortress around me.
That not everybody was always here for the kill.
