Nothing Left to Say

They had nothing to say to each other. Words had failed long ago, leaving behind only a shell of hate and pain.

He had lashed out at her again, flaring with impotent rage, assaulting her with blame and fists, accusations and apologies. He had grabbed her, cruelly grating her wrist bones together, as he begged her to forgive him.

For a moment, he'd seemed so sad, so small, his eyes looking lost and helpless, just before they flashed fire and he struck out again.

"Bitch!” he'd called her, and worse, then "Baby," and a softly whispered "please".

As she sat on the floor, her right eye swollen shut, her mouth filled with the taste of her own blood, her hands shook from fear and relief.

As he sat, driving away in his car, his hands shook with anger and shame.

Sitting alone, each in their own silent darkness, they both swore that it would never happen again, as the weight of their combined lies dragged them forward, past healing and forgetting, to the next time, and the next, into the sad infinity that stretched out before them.