The evening after

“This might sting a bit”

I barely felt it when Ryan cleaned out the cuts his short nails had left on my tits with antiseptic. My whole body was aching – my mind had gone pleasantly numb.

His touch was gentle now.

Ryan cleaned the cuts, put some cream on my body where the bruises would show later. I just lay on the cold bathroom floor. Eyes closed I felt him get up, heard water running. A cold wet washcloth touched my face, wiped my forehead, my cheeks.

Three hours earlier

After the second knock I heard footsteps. Ryan was home after all. A wave of relief washed over me. No going to the pubs to find him tonight.

He opened the door, saw me, nodded and stepped aside.

Without a word I entered, closed the door behind me. Unlike me he had already changed into civvies. His old running shorts and an old t-shirt.

I was still in full uniform, the hair in a tight bun. He moved, pulled me in a tight hug. As I rested my head on his shoulder I could smell whisky on his breath. Neither of us spoke or moved for a long time. Silence, his warm body, his tight hold, the faint smell of his aftershave mixed with the smell of whisky.

After what felt like an eternity I couldn’t stand it any longer. My hands moved down his back, slid under the waistband of his shorts and started to pull them down.

Ryan pushed me away. Hard. Ice in his eyes.

I made one step towards him, avoided his gaze as I reached for his crotch.

Without warning his fist hit my stomach. Even though he hadn’t used full force it knocked the wind out of me.

I still couldn’t look him in the face as I reached out again. This time he stepped back. “What the fuck is wrong with you Macdonald?” Anger in his voice. So much anger and something deeper. “Your husband died not even 24 hours ago.”

Pain under the anger. David – my husband – had been his best mate. And I hadn’t shed a single tear since they had told me. And here I was.

My hand was still reaching out. How was I to go on? Outward I was calm, collected, in control of myself… on the inside I was a mess.

I didn’t know how much time passed. We just stood there in silence. “Hurt me” My whisper was barely audible but it seemed to echo through the whole flat.

Ryan moved. His shoulder bumped into me on his way into the living room. The clinking of glass on glass. Silently I followed., stopped at the door.

He put the glass down, refilled it.