"Come inside," he said. "Sit down. I'll get you some water." So it was done. She'd finally told that asshat of a husband of hers to do one.
"I..." she sat on the sofa, trembling.
"Back in a sec," he said, heading for the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the tap. He turned to catch his profile reflected back from the microwave, and smiled. "Finally." He thought about how much he loved her, about sharing everything he had with her, and now never having to watch her leave again.
He returned and passed her the glass of water. "Tell me all about it." He sat and held her.
Still crying, she said "We don't... have long... he's dead, Mark. He... he wouldn't believe it. Said he was going to kill you." She let out a howl. "I... chased him with a knife and stabbed him in the back. Oh I love you, Mark. I'm so sorry."
They held each other, each feeling the earth push on their shoulders, pressing them down until they were both just nothing more than weights in each others' arms.
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