It was never you

Rage. That's what I felt at the sight of him. The alcohol wafted off his breath as his hard body hovered over mine. Tingles raced through my core but I was enraged. I couldn't see past the anger that filled me and covered me like a blanket.

A fleeting memory of the warm touch of his moist lips made my body shiver. I steaded my resolve.

"How dare you!" I screamed, the sound of my voice was raspy and horse most likely from the screaming and the crying but I couldn't relent and I couldn't give in.

My face scrunched up to assert my dominance over him. He was younger than my husband, even younger than me, and I wouldn't have him thinking that he could touch me whenever he wanted just because we were sleeping together. I didn't want to feel the pain anymore. I didn't want to see the sorrow in his deep blue eyes when I walked out the door time and time again. It was always the same.

"How dare ME?! I cannot honestly believe what I am hearing from you right now! Are YOU insane woman?!" Michael hollered. His words slurred from his inebriated state. The look in his eyes told me that I was breaking his heart. I was crushing him with my indecision. I could feel his heart crumbling before my very eyes but what was I supposed to do?

Was I supposed to leave my family for him? My eyes couldn't help but roam over his body. His torn polo shirt dangled from his slender yet muscular frame and I ached to feel him inside of me again. He reached over to grab my arm "Rebecca," he uttered so softly I might have missed it, except I didn't.

I heard the desperation in his voice as he held onto me as though his life depended on it. I saw a flicker of something I had never seen before and wasn't quite sure that I could place. Was it regret, envy, desire, rage? The thoughts raced through my mind so hard and fast that I hadn't noticed when his hand reach high above his head as he prepared himself to strike me for the first time in our relationship.

I felt a tinge of fear, but mostly I felt regret. I had been a terrible wife. Maybe I deserved what was about to happen to me. I could not wrap my head around my thoughts, but suddenly, things had become crystal clear. It wasn't my fault this was happening; it was hers...It was my spoilt rotten daughter who had dominated my husband's attention. It was her that stole my youth and transformed my figure. She was to blame for my misfortune. The thought settled in and took root inside my psyche.

I had been so engrossed in my thoughts that I hadn't realized Michael was spiraling out of control. The combination of alcohol and drugs in his system had his head in a fog. The muscles in his arms tightened as his crystal blue eyes glazed over. I watched as his sense of awareness and self-control faltered. It seemed as though he could see me one moment and not the next.

His lower lip quivered with anger, "You don't understand," he pleaded with me. "You're so damn insecure!" he screamed, and my sense of logic and reason faded away. This bastard just wanted to have it all. He wanted to bed me and I knew he wanted to bed my daughter as well. The more he tried to explain himself the angrier I became. 'This is all her fault. She will always take my men from me.' the thoughts swirled and cemented so deeply in my mind that I could see nothing else.

"I told you already, she is just a little kid. I'm not interested in her. I want you!" he'd begun begging. To me, that just made him more guilty in my eyes. I saw the way that he looked at her. The way his eyes roamed from her face down her body and back up again sent a pang of jealousy I had not expected to feel. His eyes the way they had rested on her chest and lingered for far too long was all the proof I needed. He saw me watching and yet he tried to pretend he was tying his shoes. The asshole was wearing sandals.

"You liar," I spat.

"I swear to God Rebecca, you're wrong about this and you know it! I love you, but you cannot keep doing this to me. I never meant anything by it, I swear to you!" his voice was exasperated as tears welled in his eyes. I hated when he did this. I hated when he acted as though he was the victim. He was always the victim and I was always the villain. I was the villain at home and I was the villain here. 'For heaven's sake, when can I be the one who gets some TLC?' I thought to myself as I closed my eyes and attempted to find my center.

I was starting to feel the effects of the drugs and alcohol. Michael still hovered over me. He was holding me with one arm with the other raised in the air slightly resting on the wall behind me. I wanted to stop arguing and run my fingers through those golden locks of his. The way his hair was drenched in sweat and tangled from the evening's activities was so damn sexy.

Standing in front of him, I felt a combination of desire and fear. I wasn't sure what to expect but I also couldn't deny the way my body responded to his touch, and I wanted to taste him again.

"I've given you everything. All of me. I would have given you the world. Why her? Why" My voice came out harsh and cruel, and I wanted to stop speaking but I was so angry. "You want my daughter? You want Victoria!" I screamed in his face as my spit landed on his lips. I couldn't understand why he was choosing her over me. I couldn't understand why I felt such hatred towards her. I couldn't understand why his face had twisted at my words and suddenly I am consumed by darkness.