I have to cross state lines to get home. I mean, home home… not my apartment. Every single time I drive over that bridge, those words replay in my head:
“I’ll drive us into the fucking river, Stella.”
It took me a long time to understand that our relationship was not normal or okay. He threatened to hit me but never did so I figured it was fine.
I haven’t given this guy a fake name yet. I guess I’ll call him D (for dumb-ass).
This was a vanilla relationship. I thought it would be safe.