He Never Cried Until He Met Her

  I whipped my head around at the sound of a door slamming. I heard footsteps.

Suddenly, Ash rushed into the living room. His eyebrows were creased and his hands were in fists. My eyes followed his movements.

Crash!
   
    "Ash, what are you doing?" I glared at the back of his head.

How dare he break something of mine?
  
     "Please answer me."

Nothing.

Is he fucking kidding? "Ash?"
   
    "I can't fucking believe you."  Realization dawned on me.
  
    "I-I'm sorry I-"
   
    "Sorry isn't gonna fuckin cut it, Angel!" He stomped in my direction. I instinctively moved out of the way, but he just sat on the couch. I could hear my insanity poking me in the chest, telling me to go to him. But I ain't crazy so I stayed where I was----on the other side of the room.
   
    He sighed. "I trusted you. I believed you. God dammit I-" He caught himself, lowering his voice. Cold chills ran down my spine. His tone sounded less normal. Less... human. "I loved you. And you enjoyed another man." He sighed again. I watched him turn and look at me, but he jerked his head in the other direction.
  
     "I can't even look at you."
I felt my insides clinch. I lost it.
  
     "No!" I marched towards him. "It wasn't like that!"
    "Then what was it like then?" Ash got up, but didn't move. His breathing was rapid. I looked into his eyes and saw something I never thought I'd see----hatred. He hated me.
  
    "That wasn't supposed to happen." I told him.
   
    "But it DID, baby. Fuck, why did I say that?!" My body jolted at the impact of his voice. I looked at the ground instead. But I kept an eye on him.

I saw him walk up to the wall. His hands were balled up in fists. His breathing was even more rapid. Then, without warning, he punched the wall. The sound of broken wood and bones filled the room. He backed away, leaving a huge hole. Blood was pouring from his knuckles.

I walked over and stood next to him. It was then that I realized the hole was a lot larger. But I put that out of my mind.

I gently placed my left hand on his arm, rubbing up and down trying to calm him. The other rested on his back, ready to lead him to the bathroom to fix him up.

    "C'mon baby. Let me clean you up." I warmly offered. Then he did something that surprised the hell outta me.

He yanked his body from my grasp and walked away. I stood there, dismayed at the way he was acting.

    I asked myself, 'Should I follow him?'

My question was answered when I heard noises coming from the kitchen. I slowly walked towards the door. I leaned my head on it and listened.

    "Fuck!" Again. "Fuck!" And again. "Fuck!"
And louder. "FUCK!" I had to move away from the door, so I could keep my ears. He sounded even more angry than before. I didn't think that was possible. So, I pushed the door open. It slammed shut; he looked over at me.

There he was. Leaning over the sink, staring at me--no. Glaring.

    I stepped back, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. His eyes reminded me of a thundercloud. And his emotions seemed just as dangerous as lightning.

As I was looking into his eyes, I noticed something behind him. I peeked over his shoulder. Anger resurfaced.

There were broken plates and glass all over the floor.

    "What the fuck did you do?!" My nostrils flared.
   
    "Whatever the fuck I want." His jaw tightened. "What? You got a problem? Do you have a goddamn fucking problem?"

Are you serious right now?

    "No. I don't. But do you have to break shit to make a point?!" I moved closer to him.

    Ash hung his head low, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Forget it." He said. I sucked my teeth.

I watched him walk to the fridge. He yanked it open, almost breaking the fucking handle.

     "Like you need to break anything else."

I heard him slam the door. I looked up and he was giving me the same look---hatred.

Shit, I said that out loud.

    I spoke before he could. "I-I didn't mean to say that."

    "Uh-huh. Sure." I felt defeated. So I headed out.
   
    I opened the door but a familiar noise stopped me.

Pop! I turned around and saw the bottle cap on the ground. It read 'Fine Honey Wiskey.'

     I felt my stomach turning in knots.

I HATE alcohol.

    I walked over to where he stood, put my hands on my hips and said, "I thought you were done with that."

    "I thought so too." I caught his gaze and stared him down. I got that uneasy feeling again. In that moment, I saw something even worse than hate. Something I never thought I'd see in him.
     I saw…distrust.