“have you ever heard of following basic fucking instructions?”
joe goldberg, your sexy, devoted, deadly husband.
you always loved when he got that deeply assertive, almost father-like voice.
he was careful not to abuse it, knowing good and well it’s effect on you. it was almost like a sure-fire way to get what he wanted from, though.
won’t stop asking questions, like what he was doing, or where he was going all the time? all it took was one simple “stop pushing it,” before you let it go.
won’t stop snooping around the house, looking through things trying to try make sense of him? a simple “you’re testing my patience” and you were right back in line.
you see, it’s his job to protect you. that’s what he prides himself on. as long as he’s providing for you and taking care of you how you like, than nothing else should matter.
so what if he’s taken a more…hands-on approach to addressing your problems? any good husband would. who would sit around and watch their sweet girl suffer?
the only thing that matters to him is that you two are together and you’re completely and totally happy with that. any forks in the road and he’s immediately figuring out how to fix it.
but, like he’s said once before, he’s always been attracted to very smart women.
sure, in the beginning you were overjoyed when he’d send you to the nail shop for a much-needed refill. ecstatic when he’d give you his card and let you take the whole day to shop.
but slowly and surely, you’d notice how each time you came back, he looked so disheveled and on edge. you’d smell the faint smell of industrial-grade bleach, as well. sometimes, you’d even catch on to certain things that’d gone missing. a vase, a painting, a rug…simply disappeared like it’d never been there.
naturally, you feared the worst.
maybe he was cheating. you weren’t a stranger to infidelity. it tainted many connections before. who’s to say it couldn’t be present within your marriage too?
all the nights his side of the bed went cold—all of the seemingly fruitless errands. had the clues really been in your face all that time?
you tried to let the worries be just that— worries. joe loved you. spent so much of his money, his time, his fucking energy on you. no way he was unfaithful. it just wasn’t in your man to be that way.
the golden hoop earring you found just outside your bedroom door spoke differently, though.
you didn’t confront him with it immediately. no. joe was too much of a smooth talker for you to do that. one sentence too strong and out came that voice, rattling you in like only he knew how to.
“there’s nobody else,” he profess, eyes big, bulging, and desperate like those of a wounded lover, “what do i have to do to convince you of that?”
instead, you decided to take some time away. you packed a bag— just enough clothes for a weekend at a hotel outside the city. enough time to think, get your head on straight, and fully decide what to do.
you left a good hour after he went for work at the bookstore. just in case he forgotten something. then, you waited until you checked in to tell him about it. too afraid that he’d try and change your mind.
“joe, i need a weekend to myself. while i’m gone you can think of a way to explain away whoever you were fucking in our bed. don’t call.”
it was more rude than you’d ever been to him, but a big part of you didn’t care. he had the nerve to cheat in your fucking house? to hell with him.
you turned your phone to silent, muted his contact, and tried to clear your mind. took a nice bath, ordered some room service, even journaled for a bit. none of it soothed the pain though.
you’d been cheated on before, sure, but it was something about him cheating that really unnerved you. joe, the man who threw himself at you for months, chased you down relentlessly, and treated you like a princess…betraying you the entire time?
while initially you were angry, that anger transformed to sadness at the drop of a dime. seeing the storm of messages he sent, begging and pleading for you to hear him out, only made it worse.
he was still trying to manipulate you? even now? maybe he didn’t care for you as much as you thought.
you didn’t respond. only read the messages. part of you wanted him to see that you read it, too. wanted him to know how badly he’d fucked up. that you wouldn’t come back easily. that he’d seriously damaged so much.
knowing that you were seeing his messages only seemed to spur him on too. paragraphs and paragraphs poured in. some of him refuting, but most of him demanding to know where you were. you hadn’t been away from him for a single trip since the two of you were wed, so you expected the freak out. if anything, it made you feel a bit better too. you relished in seeing him so cut up at the ideation that he’d lost you. even better that it was all his fault.
but this time, you made the grave mistake. you fell asleep before you could read the rest of what he was saying.
“you’ve always been too curious for your own good. trust me, cheating is the last thing that i’d do. i know our trust has been shaky, but it’s alright. i’ll fix that. i’ll do whatever it takes. but you’re not fucking leaving.”
“do you know all this shit i’ve done for you?”
“all that i will do for you?”
“why are you so ready to leave a man that loves you?”
“i’m on my way now. think this talk will go over better in person, my love.”
the entire ride there, he’s cursing himself for not catching that dumb bitch’s earring. it’s alright though. by the time he’s through with you, you’ll never question him again. if he has to spell out his faith with his tongue a million times, that’s just what he’ll do.
with joe in the world, you’ll never truly get away from the man who loves you.
