Back at you (1)

With all the anger and frustration that had been building over the bitter years, I smashed the glass coffee table with the vintage wooden frame holding a photo a happily newly-wed couple, staring lovingly into each other eyes. Oh God! I should have done that years ago. It felt so satisfying to hear the breaking sound of the glass into thousand small, uneven, sharp pieces. 

"For God sake! Do you have to f*****g do that?!" he yelled at me.

"YES! F**K YES! I need to do that. In fact, I need to do this too!" I screamed back as I picked up a beautiful crystal vase and threw it to the glass cabinet that kept his precious little air plane models from the dust and dirty hand of "muggles" as he liked to call them.

His face reddened at my ultimate tantrum. He grabbed my hands and twisted them to my back. I struggled to free my hands but he tightened his grip. With the height of 180 cm, he was towering me with his menacing gaze. I stared back at him with a cold stare, not showing any sign of intimidation.

"Just stop. Please," his gaze softened as he stared into my brown eyes.

I kept staring deep into his eyes. My heart was pounding like crazy because of the anger that went crazy in me. Foul words and curses kept being produced in my head but they never actually left my mouth. In silence, we stared at each other eyes. Not the loving gaze that was captured in our wedding picture, but the tired gaze. 

He softened his grip and finally releasing my hands. His mouth moved as he tried to say something but I just turned around and walked away from the war-field like living room. Picking my bag from the kitchen counter, I walked to the front door. I was about to close the door when he called my name.

"Emily, I'm sorry."

With my middle finger replying his words, I closed the door and walked to my car. 

"This was going to be one hell of a new start," I said to myself as I steered the car to the  place that was going to face my fury and turned me back into my demure, sweet self.