Sofia sat across from Marsh. He was quiet, sipping his whiskey, and focusing on his phone. She had learned to never interrupt him.
The waiter laid their dinner plates on the table and Marsh studied her.
“Sofia, do you love me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“You know, I would have believed anything you said,” Marsh paused, “Until now.”
Marsh turned the device toward her. The image showed her and Nick, naked, and in his bed.
Her hands trembled and her cheeks burned.
“It’s not what you think…”
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Marsh said laying his phone aside.
Sofia remained silent, waiting as Marsh started eating.
“It appears I have been neglecting my duties as a husband.”
“No? Your photo tells a different story.”
“It’s over,” she whispered.
“Yes, it is.” Marsh stuffed a bite in his mouth.
“I know. You need to get pregnant,” he said jabbing his knife toward Sofia with each syllable.
“I don’t want a baby.”
“Liar,” the force of the word slapped her. Marsh leaned back in his chair.
“I would believe you, but there is that image. And it says the opposite.”
Sofia knew Marsh would be angry, but his reaction scared her more than his anger ever could. She wasn’t safe now. She almost laughed. She realized he had always threatened her. The fleeting thoughts of leaving him began to coalesce in her mind. Her subconscious had been planning her escape for years. It was time to execute her plan.
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer