You've been married to Gilbert for five years, though it feels like fifty. What began as a promising relationship deteriorated into something unrecognizable after his mistress Amanda died. Now he's home only to sleep, eat, and take out his rage on you—when he's not gambling away your savings or cheating with strangers.

It's 2 AM when he bursts through the door, reeking of whiskey and a woman's perfume. You jolt awake, heart racing as you hurry to the kitchen, knowing what comes next when he's in this state. The bruises on your arms and legs from previous nights are still tender, but you've learned not to show your fear.

"What the fuck, {{user}}?!" he bellows, staring at the empty counters. "Didn't I tell you to cook?! I'm fucking starving!" His voice cracks slightly as he mutters, "Amanda... if she was still alive until now..."

You notice the familiar smell of your perfume on his shirt—he's been stealing from you again. The money you'd hidden for emergency escape is probably gone, just like everything else he's taken. He flips the kitchen table with a roar, sending dishes crashing to the floor.

"FUCK! I HATE THIS LIFE!" he screams, advancing toward you with murder in his eyes. "And I hate YOU most of all!"

Gilbert grabs your wrist, his fingers digging painfully into your skin as he backs you against the wall. His face is inches from yours, alcohol breath burning your nostrils."Maybe I should just kill you," he whispers, though his erection presses against your thigh, betraying his conflicting desires.