Moments Like These

I check the time on my phone again. 8:57p.

They're late. This was supposed to be done before he got home from work but of course he's not going to blame them. I bounce my leg, gripping the rock I'm sitting on when I finally I see their car pull up. I keep the small talk as friendly as I can without making it seem like I'm flirting. I never have but that doesn't stop him from telling me I've done it to get an extra point.

After the car pulls away I practically sprint home so I'm there before he is. Having it ready helps when he's had a bad day. I wait to portion mine because doing so will make me look too eager, too much like a fiend, even though he's been texting me every 10 minutes for the last hour asking if I've met them yet. I receive a text from my neighbour, saying she has some good stuff and asks if I want to smoke with her. I close my eyes and grip my phone before deleting the text. 

As if he can sense my betrayal, the door opens and there he is. "Got one?" I extend my hand that holds the straw, line already out on the mirror, and he does it in one fluid motion before handing the straw back to me. Now that he's had his I'm allowed to have mine. It must be smaller even though I paid. I think about the text from my neighbour and feel a visceral yearning as I do my own line. This isn't what I want anymore but he's decided we're done with that for now so I have to hide what I got until he's preoccupied.

My work is not done, it's only just started. I lay beside him, take his glasses off and stroke his hair; he had a hard day, he needs some attention. There are moments, like these ones, when I truly believe he cares. When he looks at me just-so and tells me I'm a good girl.

But then I've said something the wrong way and his eyes go from clear blue to black. I didn't mean it that way but he isn't listening. He's standing over me, telling me so many hateful, cruel, violent things with a smile on his face because causing me pain is fun for him. I want to tell him to leave but can't because without him I'm not me.

Colour returns to his eyes and he tells me he's sorry. He holds me while I silently cry then asks how much is left. Without looking I say enough for two lines each because I keep track. He laughs, calls me his little junkie, and reaches for his phone to text the dealer while telling me to get dressed.

I check the time on his phone. 3:12a.