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“Get out of my way!”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting my own room and ordering a guy to suck my dick! You’re clearly not up for it anymore.”

His words rip the floor out from under me. I’m in free fall. On pure reflex, I throw a punch. Ben staggers, falls, and cracks his head against the edge of the glass table.

A dull thud echoes through the room, followed by a sickening crack. Glasses and bottles rattle. Ben lies motionless on the floor.

The last breath leaves my lungs. For a moment, I don’t know what just happened.

I’ve never hit him back before.

Of course I’ve been in fights. I know how to defend myself. But never against the man I love.

I can’t move.

Breathless.

Completely detached.

Staring at Ben lying still beside the coffee table. There’s blood on the edge.

Rage is still boiling inside me, blood burning in my veins. I pace frantically, tearing at my hair and screaming at the top of my lungs.

I turn back to him. He’s still unconscious.

“Ben?” I can barely breathe, guilt crushing me. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

I stroke his cheek and turn his face toward me. The warm wetness makes me yank my hand back.

Blood.

“Fuck! Ben! Come on, wake up!”

I scramble for my phone. Only Ben’s is on the couch.

Thoughts pile up in my head.

Who do I call?

Should I call someone?

The front desk?

Where the fuck is my phone!

Come on, Ben!

Wake up!

My hands shake as I look around wildly.

Pills. Alcohol. Drugs. A huge mess on the table.

And Ben’s blood on my hands. Now in my hair too.

I feel gutted.


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