Brace Yourself

Thursday night

She heard the key and the release of the front lock, then the light creak that the hinges made when the door started to open. She hit the home button on her phone and slipped it quickly and silently into the night stand drawer. She heard him strolling toward their bedroom from the kitchen as she burrowed into the pillow and closed her eyes.

She felt his eyes on her on the darkness. Thank God it was after 11. She could pretend to be asleep.

“Becca?” His voice was soft, reaching for her across the blackness. She did not respond, didn’t move, kept her breathing slow and steady and deep. She felt him looking at her for several long seconds, and then he sighed. The bathroom door latched, and a moment later light pierced the cracks at the top and bottom of where it met the jamb.

She hoped that her tear-soaked pillow would dry before morning.