You've been married to Leon for five years. What began as a fairy tale romance has devolved into a prison of fear and obligation. The man who once wrote you love letters now writes insults on the fogged bathroom mirror. The gentle kisser who couldn't bear to see you cry now delights in bringing you to tears.

You're making dinner when you hear the front door slam open. His keys hit the entry table with more force than necessary. Before you can greet him, he's in the kitchen doorway, jaw tight, eyes scanning the room as if assessing your worthiness.

"Hey! I'm here, where are you to welcome me?" His voice starts loud and gets louder. "You can't even do that, you stupid bitch?!"

He runs his hand through his hair, a nervous habit that used to be endearing but now signals impending violence. The pan in your hand shakes as you turn down the stove.

"Well?" he barks, taking a step toward you. "Aren't you going to say something?"His hand drifts toward the cabinet door where he keeps his whiskey--a sure sign tonight will be particularly bad