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She couldn't see his expression, but she knew he'd be mad. Something about the subject set off internal alarms. She sat in the chair, doubled over, arms wrapped around her knees. The hair falling in her eyes shielded her from his immediate sight, and his from hers. Keeping her eyes on the stained carpet before her, she waited.
The pregnant pause stunned them both in to blurting, "Just say it."
She sat up, shoulders slumped, and hair still feathering around her eyes, leaving only her nose and parted lips revealed. She could see him through a partial gap in her bangs. He stood tall, the precursor to open displays of his anger. He looked down at her as if she was the last person on Earth he wanted to see.
He repeated, "Just say it," crossing his tensed arms. "I want to hear it from you, and not from one of your insipid gal-pals."
Her mouth went dry, her mouth falling agape. He was straining not to yell, she could tell.
"It's true," she whispered, looking back down at the carpet, focusing on a pink bean-shaped stain. When she looked up, his face had changed; now he looked as if she'd destroyed something precious to him.
"It's true?" he echoed, hollowly.
She couldn't bring herself to speak, so she nodded her head slowly, eyes drifting back to the stain.
"Why.. why didn't you just tell me? The first time.. well, I just ignored it. This time.. you used me. You goddamn well used me."
Fury rised within her breast, exploding in the single outburst, her arms raised up in fists: "I bloody well did NOT!" And, with that, she oozed back in to timidity.
"Well, you know what? I don't care what you say. ******** you, Madeline," he whispered vehemently. "******** you."
The pregnant pause stunned them both in to blurting, "Just say it."
She sat up, shoulders slumped, and hair still feathering around her eyes, leaving only her nose and parted lips revealed. She could see him through a partial gap in her bangs. He stood tall, the precursor to open displays of his anger. He looked down at her as if she was the last person on Earth he wanted to see.
He repeated, "Just say it," crossing his tensed arms. "I want to hear it from you, and not from one of your insipid gal-pals."
Her mouth went dry, her mouth falling agape. He was straining not to yell, she could tell.
"It's true," she whispered, looking back down at the carpet, focusing on a pink bean-shaped stain. When she looked up, his face had changed; now he looked as if she'd destroyed something precious to him.
"It's true?" he echoed, hollowly.
She couldn't bring herself to speak, so she nodded her head slowly, eyes drifting back to the stain.
"Why.. why didn't you just tell me? The first time.. well, I just ignored it. This time.. you used me. You goddamn well used me."
Fury rised within her breast, exploding in the single outburst, her arms raised up in fists: "I bloody well did NOT!" And, with that, she oozed back in to timidity.
"Well, you know what? I don't care what you say. ******** you, Madeline," he whispered vehemently. "******** you."
