5

I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what was wrong with me.

What was it that made me so fucking unattractive to my own damn husband?!

I stared at myself for what felt like hours, and suddenly hated the damn sight of myself.

I criticized my every damn feature.

My ass was too big…

My thighs were too thick.

My belly was too fucking fat…

My tits looked like fucking inflatables.

I wasn't like those super-skinny models you saw in magazines,

With tiny waists,

Slender legs…

Thigh gaps.

And it made me fucking mad.

My own husband couldn't bear to look at me.

My head began searing with pain, feeling like it was splitting open, as the rage and hurt began over-flooding my body, reaching to the surface.

I punched the mirror,

Repeatedly,

Over and fucking over.

Until my knuckles were red…

My fingers bloody.

I couldn't take this anymore.

Despising myself so much…

And the man that was supposed to love me…

Fucking despised me too.

I let out a blood-curdling scream, feeling like I’d reached my breaking point.

The brink of fucking insanity.

I collapsed to the ground, rocking myself backwards and forwards as I sobbed.

The tears and blood mangling together.

My tears drip-dropping onto the floor in tiny little droplets.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

It felt like I would never stop screaming.

I was going mad.

I was going fucking mad…

Trembling, I got up from the bathroom floor, and slowly made my way back to the bedroom. I knew that I couldn’t stay in the bathroom all day. I had to sleep…

I slid into bed to see that Bruce was already fast asleep.

I'd been kicking and screaming in the bathroom for hours…

And he didn’t even care.

He didn’t fucking care about me.

He didn’t care about me at all.

I continued to feel my heart twist into knots, doing my best to hold back my tears. I guessed all I could do was sleep myself…

And hope he'd forget everything by tomorrow morning.

I felt so damn embarrassed after today, I would never flex in my lingerie in front of him again.

But I knew that after what he said, I wouldn’t be able to sleep one wink tonight.

I would toss and turn all night…

His words replaying themselves over and over again in my head, like a form of motherfucking torture.

3

sofia

Saturday morning.

I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink all night, just as I’d predicted. I yawned loudly, wishing that my body would rest, but it wouldn’t. I rolled my eyes angrily, tossing in bed, to see that Bruce was already awake next to me, texting on his phone.

“Bruce?” I mumbled.

He didn’t respond, and continued to immerse himself in his phone.

“Bruce!” I repeated angrily.

Bruce rolled his eyes bitterly, turning around to face me.

“What?” he snarled.

“Can we go out today?” I mumbled. “I haven't been out in such a long time.”

And it was true. I hadn’t. I was always either in my bedroom or at work, and it was driving me insane.

I knew that Bruce was probably going to say no, but it was worth a try anyway.

“Sorry, I'm going to work,” Bruce shrugged.

“On a Saturday?” I denied, folding my arms huffily.

“Needs must, babe,” Bruce retorted quickly.

I let out a deep breath, a timid expression on my face. Feeling miserable all over again. My heart feeling like it was going to explode from going round and round in circles with my damn husband.

“Don't turn on the fucking waterworks again!” Bruce sighed exhaustedly. “You know I need to work.”

“We never spend time together anymore,” I said timidly. “Why do you think I tried seducing you yesterday?”

Bruce scrunched his face up.

“You didn't even cook me any damn food,” he retorted.

 “But I did,” I breathed. “If you'd looked in the kitchen properly, you would've seen that I left you some curry and naan bread.”

Bruce’s face fell, looking a little guilty now. He let out a heavy sigh, his chest heaving upwards and downwards.

 “I'm sorry,” he said flatly. “I'll make it up to you. I've just got a lot on my plate.”