“Went grocery shopping,” I told him flippantly as I started emptying the bags on the counter. “The big store wasn’t open, so I stopped by the 24-hour place. They didn’t have a wide selection of fruits, so you’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow for those.”

I pushed the milk into the fridge as I spoke, and when I turned around I was startled to see that he’d followed me and was standing in my space.

“It’s almost three o’clock in the morning, Callie. Where the fuck have you been?” he asked again, his voice controlled but the veins in his neck bulging.

“Wow, it’s getting late. I’m going to put these groceries away and then I’m heading to bed,” I told him flatly, ignoring his question as I scooted around him.

I knew I was pissing him off, but I didn’t have it in me to care. My anger had faded the further I’d driven, and by then I was just feeling… empty. He may have worried about me, but it was his decision to push me out the door.

When he grabbed my shoulder gently and spun me around, I didn’t even fight it. I just let him maneuver me until we were standing almost nose to nose. Whatever he saw in my expression must have caused the reign on his temper to dissolve, because within a second, he was tossing his beer bottle across the room where it shattered against the living room wall.

I didn’t even flinch at the movement.

“Where the fuck have you been, Callie?” he roared in my face, searching my eyes and obviously not finding what he was looking for.

“I went for a drive.”

“You went for a drive?” he parroted.

“Yeah. I went for a drive,” I answered him, my voice never changing from the monotone I’d used since I walked through the door. I crossed my arms under my breasts and his eyes shifted down my body, taking me in.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

He frowned at me, taking in my hard-soled slippers and flannel pajama pants before coming to rest on my breasts. His jaw was clenched, but the veins in his neck had disappeared, indicating that he’d calmed down a little.

“I’m wearing the same thing I was wearing when you pushed me out the door,” I reminded him, refusing to meet his eyes. I was so exhausted after the hours in the car and the emotional drain of the evening that I didn’t even have the energy to give him the fight he was so obviously looking for. I just wanted to go to bed.

“What?” he whispered in disbelief.

My eyes snapped up to his, but the apology I saw in them wasn’t enough for me.

“I tried to find a sweatshirt or something in the car, but there wasn’t anything in there,” I told him quietly, the bravado I’d been feeling finally leaving me. I crossed my arms higher on my chest, blocking my breasts from view like I’d done as I’d picked up the groceries at the store that night, my cheeks flushing a little as I remembered the cashier’s leering gaze.

I tried to step away from him, but his hand slid up my shoulder and behind my neck effectively holding me in place.

“Baby…” he whispered gently, trying to pull me forward into his chest.

“I just want to get some sleep, okay?” I told him, finally pulling out of his reach. “It’s been a long night.” I shook my head once and then moved toward the hallway. “I got you some TV dinners that you like. I wasn’t sure if you’d had dinner.”

I heard him make a noise in the back of his throat, but I didn’t turn around. I kept walking toward our bedroom, only pausing for a second when I heard his fist punch the kitchen wall.

He didn’t come to bed for another hour; I knew because I hadn’t been able to fall asleep. I’d been so tired when I got home that I could barely keep my eyes open, but the minute I’d crawled under the blankets, I was wide awake.

I didn’t know how to navigate this new territory we were entering. Our interactions had always consisted of me cowering in his shadow, and now that I knew I couldn’t count on him for protection, the entire situation had tilted on its axis. I couldn’t trust that he would protect me—that was clear. But it wasn’t as if I had completely stopped trusting him. I knew that he would do his best to live up to his promises; however, I could no longer lean on him for my security.  I had to find my own security.

In order to do that, I had to distance myself from him as much as I could.

I tensed when I heard him crawl into bed next to me. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him that I was awake, or pretend to sleep so I didn’t have to deal with anything else that night. But when he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled my back against his front, he must have known I was awake, because he started speaking in a quiet voice aching with apology.

“God, Sugar,” he groaned into my shoulder, “I shouldn’t have pushed you outta the house like that.”

“It’s okay,” I told him, even though we both knew it wasn’t.

“No. I fucked up.” His head shook briefly. “I just wanted you to use that fuckin’ car I bought you. I wanted you to get outta the house by yourself, so I knew you could do it when I left. Do you understand? You gotta be able to stand on your own two feet, Callie—I’m not gonna be here most of the time, and you have to be able to fend for yourself.” He squeezed his arm around my waist and kissed my neck as if the whole episode was over.

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to that. Thank you? Please throw me out of the house in pajamas again the next time you need toilet paper? All is forgiven?