“Thank you for helping,” she said, watching as he wiped his hands off on his pants and stood. She did the same, keeping her weight off her left food as best she could. It was sore, but nothing that would kill her.

“Yeah, no problem.” He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously not knowing what to do now.

“So, uh…yeah. I guess I need to clean up. Everything. Glass, kitchen, all of that stuff…” She laughed nervously, looking at the ground. Having his hands on her in such a caring way…even if it had been just her foot and calf, even if it had been completely platonic…had sent shivers up her spine the whole time. “Don’t forget to grab your back, yeah?”

She started to turn away, needing to get away from him as soon as possible. She shouldn’t get shivers from a man who wasn’t her husband. Shouldn’t blush like a school girl for a man who wasn’t her husband. Heck, she shouldn’t even let him be here.

Justin was known for taking lunch whenever he wanted. Most days, he came home for it.

If he came home right now…with the way things were between them…and he saw Gage standing in the living room?

She didn’t want to assume her husband would know common sense from ridiculousness, so she was better safe than sorry if he just left.

When she noticed that he was still standing there, she paused in the doorway.

“I don’t want him to come home and see you,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes averted.

“What would he do if he did?” Gage asked, some of the weariness disappearing from his voice. From the corner of her eye, she saw his arms cross over his chest.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

“To me, maybe. What do you think he would do to you?”

“Me?” She laughed, even though the sound was hallow. “I don’t think he would do anything. He’s just having a hard time at work and it’s made him very…stressed.”

She glanced at him just in time to see his strong jaw tic.

“Stressed? That’s your excuse?”

Kate shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “I…don’t know, Gage. I don’t. I just—don’t want to talk about it.”

“So you’re going to put up with him abusing you?”

“Last night was the first time—“

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “It’s not right for a man to hit his wife—regardless of stress at work. It has nothing to do with you.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “There’s nothing I can do about it, Gage. My family is… Yeah. I don’t have a lot of options. I’m sorry you’re upset on my behalf, but I just…have to work through this.”

“Work through this,” he echoed. He closed his eyes, then groaned. “Alright, fine. Whatever. I’ll grab my shit and leave you two to it. Just know this—once a man hits you, it doesn’t change. It doesn’t end. The only thing you can do is leave, or put up with it until you’re killed. I might not know you very well, but you’re a beautiful woman. A strong woman. You deserve a man who can cherish that, not abuse it.”

“Don’t get angry on my behalf,” she told him gently. “There’s nothing you can do short of stealing me away, and I can’t…leave him. Not like this.”

“If you could leave, would you?”

She blinked.

“I don’t—I don’t know you.”

“I’m not asking if you do or not. I’m asking, if you could leave—would you?”

She touched her neck, aware of how fast her heart was beating. This was not a conversation she had ever planned to have with him, with anyone. Two days ago, she would have laughed in his face and shoved him out of her house.

But, two days ago, Justin had never raised a hand to her. He had never left a bruise on her. He had never left her on the verge of a mental breakdown from feeling trapped, lonely, and hopeless.

Things had shifted too suddenly for her to make sense of, and somehow, this strong man, a man who had demons himself—was asking her if she wanted an escape route.

I didn’t set out to be a weak housewife. I didn’t set out to be in a loveless, abusive marriage.

The thought circled her mind as she stared at Gage. What would happen if she went with him? Nothing? Would she just…forget about Justin? Would he forget about her?

No, he wouldn’t. The thought was foolish. He’d come after her as surely as a bull went after a red blanket. He wouldn’t let her go.

Somehow, though, staring at Gage…she wasn’t sure. He was a big man—more fit, taller, and buff than Justin. He also had a look about him that would make anyone wet their pants if he so much as glanced at you wrong. He appeared dangerous, yes…but maybe that was part of the appeal?

If even she was scared of him, then that meant other men were. Other men wouldn’t dare mess with Gage. He was like a walking semi-truck with muscles made of forged iron. Everything about him was intimidating…and therefore safe.

Her eyes widened.

That’s what it was, she realized. When he was around, she wasn’t waiting for an explosion. Even their few encounters had left her feeling a sense of security she no longer had with Justin.

And that was the worst thing of all.

She felt more safe with this stranger than she did with her own husband.

“I…have to clean,” she murmured, backing away from him. “Before my husband gets home, I have to—clean.”

Not only the house, but her mind.

The thoughts she was having right now…they weren’t good. She had never been unfaithful, and it wasn’t even lust that was tempting her away from her husband. It was a sense of safety and security.

“So I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he said, grunting. He shook his head, then shouldered past her to the guest room. When he came out a moment later, he didn’t spare her a glance. Just grabbed his bag and left without another word. Before he left, though, he said one last thing. “Abusers don’t stop until the victim is dead, Kate. Remember that.”

He took the handle of the door, twisting it. The grip he had on the handle was tight.

“If you need an out, my number is under the guest room pillow.”

“Gage, no—“

“If you need an out,” he said firmly, talking over her, “text me. I’ll be waiting down the street within ten minutes of you texting me, alright?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her chest.

“It won’t come to that,” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head and then left.

* * *

“What, no dinner tonight?”

She closed her eyes at the sound of Justin’s voice from behind her. Home late. Again. She wasn’t sure whether she appreciated that or not.

“I hurt my foot today,” she said quietly. “Slaving over the stove didn’t sound appealing. What about pizza? Take out?”

He sighed. “So we get to spend more money because you’re lazy. Didn’t you listen to our talk this morning?”

“Justin, I hurt my foot.”

“Couldn’t be that bad. It’s not like anything in the house can hurt you. Get up and make me something.”

She listened to him slide off his shoes, then he sat beside her. The presence of his body next to hers was like that of a spider. It made her skin crawl, hair raising on end. Looking at him brought that same sick sensation and after it was done spreading over her back, it settled in her gut.

She sat there in silence, staring straight ahead. There was no way she was going to get up to make dinner. He couldn’t be that callous, could he?

They’d been arguing for the last year or so, and up until last night, he had never been cruel. But now, it was as if a veil had been lifted and he was done pretending to be anything other than what he was—a monster.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Gage—kneeling in front of her, offering her an out… She shivered, looking down at her lap. It wasn’t a shiver of lust or need, but one of trepidation. She shouldn’t compare her husband to another man…

“Babe, Kate. Get up and make food.” He nudged her shoulder hard enough to jolt her out of her thoughts, and she blinked, glancing at him. He was really going to push her into making dinner.

She shouldn’t.

She should sit there, be defiant. She should show him that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she wasn’t going to just fall into his cycle of threats. The more she wanted to, though, the scarier the thought came. If he hit her…she didn’t know what she would do.

She gingerly pushed herself to her feet, keeping her whimper to herself. The cut wasn’t bad, per se, but it definitely stung to put pressure on it.

“Oh, hey, while you’re in there. Can you plug my phone in?”

With a nod, she took the phone and started walking to the kitchen, feet sinking into the plush carpet. One step was fine, the other hurt—but she had to walk.

“I’m feeling tacos. You pulled out meet for today, yeah? Oh, and a beer—I need a beer,” he called out.

Everything bone in her body rebelled, but she pushed herself to ignore it, to put one foot in front of the other. The phone buzzed in her hand when she passed the threshold and she didn’t bother glancing at it. It was probably work, she thought numbly.

The cord was plugged into the outlet near the microwave. Since he liked to get ahold of her at all hours of the day, there was a charger in each room she spent the most time in—kitchen, living room, and bedroom. Kate plugged in the phone, numbly watching the screen come alive to show it was charging. The screen faded away to reveal the locked screen—and the message that had made his phone buzz.

Normally, Kate wasn’t a snoopy person. She didn’t think too much of her husband’s late nights. He had a job that dealt with demanding clients, and she understood that. She was sympathetic to it—and since she had never thought of him cheating on her when she was so loyal, the possibility of it had never crossed her mind.

That is, until the charge page faded to the lock screen, and a name she had never seen before glared at her in a text bubble.

A text bubble that had a words jumping out at her, like “Come over” and “Tell her you have more work to do”. Words that obviously meant he wasn’t as faithful as she’d always assumed.

She saw the name, and with it, red.

Betrayal, pain, and disbelief stained her vision in a shade of red that was impossible to see through. When she spoke, she didn’t register the words. She acted on auto-pilot, on pain.

This was the straw that broke the horses back.

“Honey, I’m out of cheese,” she called out, staring at the phone as if she was in a trance—hell, she was. “Would you be a sweetheart and grab me some? Albertsons is just down the road.”

“Seriously? I just got home. Why can’t you grab it,” he asked angrily. At this point, she didn’t care. She kept her voice cool, emotionless. The tone of her voice was oddly…serene. Toneless.

“Because I’d like to start browning the meat. Dinner would be done quicker if you could just grab the cheese, honey.” How he didn’t hear the lack of emotion was beyond her—but she heard it. She felt it; or rather, the lack thereof.

She heard the groan, and then the rustle of the couch as he got up.

“Fine. I’ll be back in fifteen,” he grunted. Shortly after that, she heard the door open, close, and then from outside, the car came to life.

Fifteen minutes.

She yanked his phone off the charger, some depraved part of her needing to see what was going on between him and this chick, and then ran to the guest room.