A Taste Of His Medicine

ALEXA

I wanted to turn it down. It was in my eyes to turn down Mark’s offer, or no, his directive, but even the cops saw that I was shaking.

“I think that would be the best option until your door is fixed and you are over the trauma,” the cop had said.

That was the only reason I followed Mark, and I insisted that it wasn’t because I was very scared. Even if Mark hadn’t offered, I would not have slept in the apartment.

“He could have hurt me, or even killed me,” I said to myself, shaken to my bones.

I have never experienced something like this before, and I worried that I would not be able to get over the fear and trauma soon enough.

On the drive to Mark’s house, the house we once shared as husband and wife, we stayed completely quiet.

My wrist where Oscar had held me tightly ached badly, and without being told, I knew that it would have a red parch already.

I closed my eyes to keep back the tears that were threatening to fall.

I didn’t want to cry in front of Mark. It was bad enough