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i pushed him back on impulse, gasping for air as i did. i should be used to his gentle touch, but after awhile, i wasn't.

i never took his beatings lightly, but he didn't know that. after each hit, he'd act as if nothing was wrong and try to seduce me or buy me a new car or thousand dollar necklace. i wish i could just be with him like everything was okay and he was the dreamy husband i had thought he was at the beginning, but my heart won't let me.

no matter how many times i told myself different, no matter how many shots i took, no matter how many times i looked at myself beaten in the mirror, i told myself it was going to be ok. this wouldn't last. he loved me.

right?

"hey, it's okay, viv." his tone is soft as he takes another step toward me. i scramble for the shirt that was lazily tossed on the sink, pulling it over my head. i rush out of the bathroom, and when i get into our bedroom, i take a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs back up with oxygen. my body wanted to go back there and let him take me, but my heart screamed no.

his smell consumed me even still. i looked down to see i was wearing his shirt, how ironic. even without thinking, i chose him. that's a sign right? a good sign.

it had to be. this had to mean something...

my biggest fear is wasting my life away on something that won't last. something that won't make me truly happy. something that will end up eating me alive and pulling me under so far that I won't ever be able to get up again...ever.

suddenly, i hear the shower turn off. why am i scared? calming myself, i walk down into the massive family room, finding my bottle of wine from last night. only clothed in his shirt and a pair of panties, i sit on the couch, drinking straight from the bottle.

"what was that about?" his voice is deep behind me, and he appears in front of me in a flash. i take a long drink.

"i just didn't feel like it." i shrug.

shouldn't have said that, vivian.

"am i not good enough for you now?" he asked, his voice booming.

i felt the flames behind his words rise into my cheeks. i fucked up this time, i sure did.

"i never said that." i protest, looking up at him. he grabbed me, hard.

"then what the fuck did you say, huh?" my heart started beating fast, and i couldn't breathe.

"what the fuck did you say?!" he screamed, his hand rising above his head.

"i didn't fucking say shit grayson, stop it!" i screamed back, "just stop it!" my throat stung from the volume of my voice. i never fought back with grayson, ever.

"what, you think you're mister tough guy now?" he grabbed me by the wrists, yanking me off the couch to push me against the wall. it hurt.

"no, i don't." i choke out. don't you fucking cry, he hates that.

"why don't you just love me than? let me love you? that's all I ask." his eyes become big, his voice able to make any girl weak. i just so happen to be that girl right now.

"i do love you grayson i do, dammit!" my throat starts to close from the oncoming tears.

"why can't you see that?! i do everything to show you, what more do you want from me?!" i try to fight back against him but he's too strong.

or am I just too weak?

"you don't show me shit." he growled, tightening his grip on me even more.

"let's just go upstairs." i suggest, whispering as seductively as i possibly can. thankfully, he buys it, changing his mood right around. i am really not looking forward to having to cover any more bruises than i have to.

right? - d.  twins✔️Where stories live. Discover now