All The Lies

by Nicola Sanders

Every day, I think of leaving him.

Jason is seated at a table near the back. He looks very handsome in his dark-grey suit. I smile and give a little wave, but his face remains impassive even though he’s looking right at me. Anxiety flutters in my stomach, as usual.

‘For three thousand pounds’—he points at my wrist with his chin—‘I would have thought you could be on time now and then.’ I flush and adjust the Cartier watch on my wrist self-consciously. He reaches for my hand. ‘Don’t pout, Amy. I’m only teasing.’

I desperately try to think of something to say that will stop this argument in its tracks even though I know it’s too late. I was late. He’s been drinking. He’s in a bad mood. He had a bad day. Whatever the reason is, it’s on. ‘I don’t think I ask for much,’ he says. ‘I give you everything you want, don’t I?’ ‘Yes, of course⁠—’ ‘All I ask in return is a little respect. That you listen to me. That you follow my advice. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, considering. Do you agree?’ He’s speaking to me like I’m a child.

‘Please don’t.’ ‘It’s just that I’m a little baffled why you can’t get ready and make it out of the house in time for our anniversary dinner. Considering you do nothing all day.’ ‘Please don’t,’ I say again.

I want to tell him to fuck off, to get the fuck out of my life, but I know if I swear I’ll have to pay later.

Five days—five glorious days away from him, his psychotic temper, his jealousy, his constant need to belittle me. Away from that house. Away from my life. Hallelujah.

The light is different. That's the first thing I notice when I open my eyes. But it’s not just the light. It's the feeling in my heart. This is the first time since I can remember that I haven't woken up feeling frightened.