Shadow Lover

His anger would soon diminish, as it always would in this his vicious cycle of abusive behavior," after only having satisfied that hunger for control. His God given weapons had again rained down viciously with anger, reigning heartlessly upon his once betrothed.

Angelica, still motionless, lie unconscious on the floor, broken. Speckles of blood now stained her blouse, the floor and the oven, she unaware of any overdue mercy.

He now sat at the table, swallowing the bitter liquid which had become the epitome of his destruction. His boss had just laid him off and there was no way he could feed his family. His job let him down and so did his wife. Every day he slaved for her, earning a living so that she wouldn't have to work.

Most women would appreciate that, but not Angelica, she needed that sense of independence. Thinking over the events, he considered himself a reasonable man. He allowed her to have a job and mingle with her friends. His dad told him a long time ago that a woman's place was at home and the sooner you let her join the harlot gang, the sooner you'll lose her. A woman with friends can't be trusted. He had always been faithful to her and knew that she had dark secrets. For the past few weeks, she has been getting home late and not having dinner ready. Her routine has changed and her preoccupation with the soaps has definitely altered her personality. She was looking and he knew it.

Angelica remained on the floor. Her eyelids blackened and swollen shut by impacts of her husband's volatile expression. Her body continuing to lie motionless and broken on the floor. Another day like many, brought him home to terrorize his wife. His fists marked his strength and the emblem of his power. The voice he indirectly avoided employing in the workplace, he used to succumb the gentle, loving lamb which lye before him. No matter how hard he tried to justify to himself what he had just done, the outcome remained the same she was a good woman and his mind was over reacting. His jealousy was making him crazy and his obsession to control her had become inherent. He wondered why he hadn't just punched his boss. Instead, as always he came home and punished his wife for sticking by his side when he needed her the most.

As always, his fury subsided and the rage that had again taken possession of him subsided. He noticed the foil-covered pan on the stove along with two smoking pots. Ivan wondered what she had prepared for dinner. He walked over to the stove to take a look then lifted the cover to smell the pleasant aroma of freshly steamed vegetables. Nicely browned ribs laid in a roasting pan coated with homemade hickory smoked barbecue sauce. Oh he could feel his stomach churning. Angelica knew her way around the kitchen and one thing she loved other than him was cooking. Dinner was never late and definitely not burned. Ivan hated mystery spots in his meals. When the smell of his home cooked meal filled his lungs, Ivan looked to see why Angelica hadn't come to fix his plate. Normally she would bounce back into action, but this time she didn't even stir.

He returned his attention to where his wife remained. He knelt to the floor and slid his hands underneath her back and thighs then raised her from her from her broken place. He carried her to the bedroom and placed her on the bed. Looking at her face, he became troubled at the blood clogging her nostrils.