Chapter 61 Willow Morrow
Willow Morrow
“I never believed that Willow was some abused wife, on the run. It just didn’t fit.”
Mark came back from the garage and closed the door, then looked at Willow. “She’s gone for the night. I’m not sure if she’ll be back tomorrow or not.”
He didn’t sound upset or concerned, and maybe that was what a normal marriage was like. An environment where fights happened and it didn’t lead to violence or a cage; it just led to one person storming out and another person watching.
“You guys fight often?” Willow crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“No.”
“So you aren’t like us.”
He shook his head with a wry grin. “Babe, I don’t think anyone’s like us.”
Babe. The term used to fill her with joy. Now it was like pressing on a bruise. A painful reminder of what had happened. “Don’t call me babe.”
“Or else what?” His voice turned husky and he stepped closer.
She moved a step back and held up her palm, warning him. “Mark, stop. She just pulled out, for Christ’s sake. Have some self-control.”
“I’ve never had self-control with you.” He advanced farther, and she retreated, then winced when her elbow jammed into the wall.
Out of room to run. She could shut down.
Disengage. Do what the shrinks had all advised.
Choke out the fire with a lack of oxygen.
If she didn’t give him rope, he wouldn’t hang himself.
All she had to do was remain calm and not take the bait.
But the truth of the matter was, she needed this too. And that was the problem with their entire relationship. Their marriage. And what had happened on May 5.
She pushed off the wall and met his eyes. Then she reached out and grabbed hold of his throat.