“Get away from me!” She screamed.
He looked at her, feeling defeated.
“If you come near me one more time, I swear to God I will cut it off with a hack saw!”
Night was drawing in and the blinds had been closed. The bed covers were strewn across the end of the bed, rumpled and discarded whilst the television mindlessly chattered. He took a deep breath. He hated to see her hurting this way. Her words cutting him, their sharpness stinging his cheeks. He wanted to walk away, if only for a minute. To take quiet air in, gather himself and then go back. He knew he couldn't. He had to stay, had to listen. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“I hate you so much right now!” She continued her tirade. The volume of her words accelerating rapidly upwards. He watched as her fists clenched, her jaw working between outbursts. He wanted so desperately to hold her, to tell her everything would be OK, but he knew he couldn't. He had to stay where he was and take what she threw, silently, without protest. It had been going on for such a long time. He wanted it to stop. He looked at her lovely face, so contorted, beads of sweat running from her hairline as she screamed louder.
Hot and sweaty, he had never seen her more beautiful, than now, as she gave birth to their first child.