Chapter Text
Prologue
I stared at myself in the reflection of the microwave door, willing my dark eyes to be less anxious as they stared back at me. I'd waited for this day for what'd felt like my entire life, but I wasn't yet convinced I could bring the words into the air. I could spin it and rehearse it a million times; I knew nothing could prepare me for the future.
It was something like a tradition in my family. My father proposed to my mother on this night some thirty years ago – his father to his mother before him, and his parents, and her parents and so on – a story he often repeated to me with the stress of it being my turn. I may have not been his son, nor was I to ever marry a husband, but it was my torch to carry and pass on nonetheless. I had been so convinced throughout the year that my opportunity to fulfill my destiny had come, that this would be the year I'd propose to the woman I wanted to settle down and build my future with.
It wasn't until my birthday in September that I felt things start to change. In the three years we'd been together, she'd never expressed such anger towards me as she had for the whole month of September. Through October, she'd said and done everything in an effort to correct and write over her actions, but the bad flavor it left in my mouth stuck with me through every minute that'd passed afterwards. I couldn't unsee her rage, and despite her promises, my dreams flooded with nightmares of her flaring anger in places it didn't belong.
As October turned into November, she continued to change, gradually shifting from the sweet woman I loved dearly into a slightly less hostile version of whoever she'd been in September, as if she'd given up on trying to work on her lingering wounds infecting me. It rocked my sense of security in us, given that I hadn't recovered fully from the tension as it found a new position over me.
I held firm in the belief that this was temporary – a phase, maybe, or some conversation we had yet to have – surely this wasn't who she'd be forever. Perhaps it was something in her that needed love that suddenly snapped under the tension, maybe things were shifting inside of her that she wasn't telling me — whatever it'd been, I refused to believe that she'd somehow hidden an entirely different side of her from me for so long.
Things didn't improve as November curved into the chill of December. Between our increased work and the holidays, the bright, warm fire we'd kindled so tenderly between us went unattended, choking into a tiny flame I only wanted to revive. I longed for the warmth that we'd had, the feeling of being fulfilled by her that I'd had before.
As the calendar slipped away from me, I continuously debated where we stood and how I felt. I couldn't imagine my life without her, even as my nightmares started to echo into the daytime. I wanted to be with her regardless, I wanted to figure out where things changed and how to fix them. I wasn't going to wait another year for tonight to come around.
It was an easy thought to repeat in my mind in the silence without her, but lately it played at a lower volume when she was around me. As her footsteps rounded into the kitchen, the bubble of tension she carried with her ever-present, I felt myself locking up again. I couldn't tell if she was already upset, but the air was thick with heavy silence and I wasn't seeking to become a target.
“What are you doing?” Sofia's gentle voice disturbed my thoughts as she entered the fridge beside me. I glanced at her grabbing a case of cold cans before bringing my eyes back to the busy stove in front of me.
“Making that pasta that you love so much,” I answered, offering her the same soft tone she offered me. She seems passive, maybe even sweet.
“Oh… Tonight?” She stood out of the fridge, her eyebrows quirked as she eyed me, not yet drilling holes into me.
Here goes nothing, I prepared myself, unsure if my words would go in the direction I wanted them to. “Yes, tonight,” I began, holding my voice as steady as I could. “I figured we have a lot to—”
“I can't tonight, babe. I'm going out,” she cut off, turning to exit the kitchen and surging a flurry of emotions through my heart so fast that I thought it might explode. I miscalculated my chances.
“Not tonight,” I stopped her, reaching to grab the sleeve of her wrinkled blue button down shirt. She jerked around at the motion, stepping away from me and out of the kitchen as her eyes flickered with heat. Fuck, what the hell have I done?
“Why?” she snarled, glancing at her watch before shifting her weight to one side and running a few fingers through her blonde hair. “Is this about that… thing? Isn't that next week?” She attempted to wave me away, but I wasn't ready to close the door on this topic yet.
“No, it's today,” I answered as I reached for her again, but she jumped backwards far faster than me. Does that count as proposing? Did I just propose to her?
“Can we talk about it later?” she huffed, her eyebrows lowering as her voice grew deep and snappy, offering me a response my brain couldn't handle immediately.
“You mean next year,” I blurted with defeat, turning back into the kitchen and avoiding her gaze. I didn't expect to be rejected so fast. What was I thinking? “It's fine, have—” I was interrupted abruptly as my hair was forcefully yanked backwards, my feet hardly able to maintain contact with the floor as I was dragged out of the kitchen. I released a cry of pain as my scalp resisted her pulls, surely ripping some of the strands clean from my head as new panic arose within me. “Sofia! What are you—?”
Our apartment was a blur of motion as I struggled to free myself from her grip. Her growls were incoherent in between my pleas for her mercy. The short length between our kitchen and our bedroom seemed far longer when I was being taken there unwillingly.
The chaos didn't cease as she threw me across our bed, but the sudden control I had over my own body was too dizzying to make sense of. I didn't react fast enough, fumbling as I tried to get to the other side of the bed and put distance between us. Sofia grabbed the back of my shirt, her nails surely drawing blood from the skin underneath as she threw me backwards towards the closet.
I slammed into the hard closet doors, the back of my head reverberating from the explosive contact. I slumped to the bottom of the carpeted floor, my eyes blurry and unwilling to stay open on their own. Her height over me was daunting as she approached, my limbs wiggling fearfully underneath me in any attempt to escape her next attack. She chased me only a few steps backwards, my entire body vibrating uncontrollably from the shock of being tossed about like an unwanted toy.
“Where do you think you're going?” she snapped, leaning over me and pushing my neck down to the floor. Her fingers squeezed the breath out of me as I tried to claw at her grip. I kicked underneath her, writhing as I fought for my life under her deranged stare. I could see stars in the corners of my vision, shrinking my sight as my lungs pleaded for oxygen.
This is how I die. I couldn't even explain it; what caused her to snap, what brought us here? What did I say? What did I do wrong? I couldn't bear her stare any longer. I closed my eyes, trying to picture anything else as the fight left my body. I could only see her over me, her hands just out of my sight as they strangled the life out of me.
She released her grip a bit, just enough to allow my lungs a moment of reprieve but not enough for me to move. I couldn't open my eyes or control my limbs, feeling all but limp in her fingers. She pulled me up towards her a bit, bringing her mouth to my ear as I struggled to catch my breath.
“Why would I ever want to marry you, Jasmine?” I could feel the sneer of her lips cast against my cheek, but I didn't respond. My head swirled with pain, and I felt sure she was the only thing that could keep me upright as I danced near the edges of consciousness. “Who would ever?” she reiterated, offering my neck another firm squeeze as she pushed me back into the cold carpet.
She climbed away from me, but I couldn't move. My lungs struggled, my neck feeling as if it'd been crushed to the point of being nearly sealed. I couldn't remotely guess what she might do to me next, but I silently prayed that the attack was over and that she'd leave, even if that meant I stayed on the floor. How had this started – because I wanted to marry her? It seemed impossible in my mind; this can't be the same woman I've loved all this time.
“You think I don't know you're faking?” she growled from somewhere above me. A sharp jerk of motion rammed into my shoulder and reverberated through my chest, forcing all of the air from me again as I involuntarily curled into a ball against the closet door and gasped for breath between strained, gurgling coughs.
It felt as if the room around me were spinning, as if I was in the center of a tornado and the world was disintegrating around me. It's not real, it's a nightmare, I tried to convince myself. The banging in my head was growing louder as I strained harder to breathe. Is my throat or my lungs collapsing?
I felt her hands around my ankles for only a moment before she jerked my body towards hers. “Fine, keep faking,” her voice deep and threatening as she undid the elastic tie around my baggy sweatpants. “I'll show you what you're worth.”
I wanted to wiggle away from her, my arms hardly assisting me as I tried to struggle across the floor. Sofia didn't let me get far before one of her hands was squeezing my neck again, holding me firmly in place as she asserted her control over me. I used the last of my force trying to remove her arms from me, but the anger in her fingers pushed my mind out of my head and the air out of my body. Every nerve in my body grew slack, unable to continue without oxygen.