The next day, I argue with Edward.
I want him to stay home and get some rest; he wants me to stay home and for him to fucking work.
Eventually, he breaks down – making me do the same – and he admits that he can't have me near the man that beats him. He can't have his girlfriend – the woman he loves – around a guy like him.
He worries for my safety.
I smile and take him in my arms, rocking him as he cries.
"Honey, I have to go to work," I say and I feel him freeze, the terrified goose-bumps break out on his skin. "I have to go… so I can quit."
"Quitting takes too much time," he says, sniffling.
"Oh baby," I say lovingly, stroking his hair. "Not the way I'm gonna do it."
He looks up at me and smiles at what he sees.
Poor, poor Edward.
What I tell ya?
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bexie25
