i hate it here.
He watched her through the kitchen windows.
He could see the way she had her arms wrapped around herself, cocooning herself from the world. He could see the tear strains down her cheeks. He could see the grief and turmoil she was undergoing.
But she couldn't see him.
He knew that she cried herself to sleep each night. He could hear her sobs through the thin walls which separated them. He knew that she wasn't eating properly, that her clothes no longer fit her like they used to. He knew that her eyes had lost the vivacity that they had once held. He knew that she was overcome with sorrow and suffering from great affliction despite not knowing what was causing all the pain.
He knew that she was confused, unstable. And that was why he couldn't tell her.
She didn't know he was watching, that he noticed. That he cared.
He knew that she hated it here, that she hated him. But he just couldn't let her go.
He was too selfish.
It was raining now, heavily, but she still made no move to head inside. There was nothing to protect her from the cold and the water but the thin fabric of the long sleeved top that she wore.
It hurt knowing that she was willing to go through all of that just to avoid him.
She had always been stubborn. Stubborn and determined, and that was something that he loved about her.
Drying his hands on some paper tissue, he grabbed an umbrella from the umbrella stand and headed out to the garden.
She could see him approaching her through the corner of her eyes but she didn't look up not wanting to acknowledge his presence.
"It's raining." He stated simply once he had come to a stop in front of her.
She ignored him.
"You should come inside." He suggested though his voice was firm. "You're going to get ill. Come inside." This time he ordered her, his voice far more harsh than he had intended.
Brushing past him and ignoring the umbrella, she walked inside but not before throwing a resentful glare at him from over her shoulder.