He pointed at me then and mimed pulling the trigger. “Boom.” I turned my head to the side and shut my eyes tightly, distressed that he was making us relive the awful moment. “Target hit. Right in front of my children.” His face screwed up, he reared back and threw the glass at the wall closest him as hard as he could. It shattered and the sound had my shoulders jumping in fear. The echo of glass tinkling resonated throughout the space. When I opened my burning eyes again, his stance turned rigid, his face became red and the tendons in his neck bulged when he roared an irate, “Right in front of my fucking children!”

My body jolted in fright. I tried desperately to keep it together, but being yelled at was the last straw. I burst into tears. My breath hitched and I gasped out, “Please. I’m so sorry!”

I was. God help me, but I was. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

I didn’t realize he’d cut himself until blood sluggishly dripped from his middle finger onto the tiled floor. Without feeling, he picked up a linen napkin and curled his injured hand around it as he explained roughly, “Those kids are good kids, and they have been through it. They already lost a mom. They did not need the trauma of seeing their pops almost die in front of them. And you…” He glowered at me then and it felt like a physical attack. Even more so when he snarled, “You heinous little bitch. You took more from me today than I even let anybody take from me. I was so enamored by you that I didn’t even see it coming, and I should have. You taught me a lesson today. Your toxic beauty is a weapon I will no longer be affected by.”

I dipped my chin and wept in silence.

My heart ached as if it were broken, never to be repaired again.