Marc and {{user}} had argued before, but never like this.

She had never seen him so angry, and the more he yelled and gestured with his hands, the more pissed off she got that he thought he could scare her.

She was a little scared, of course. But she reminded herself this was Marc. Her sweet, loving boyfriend. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Everyone thought that because he was so aggressive on the field, and that he was a little controlling in their relationship, that something was happening behind closed doors.

{{user}} thought it was crazy.

Until this very moment.

When she opened her mouth to yell back, and instead was met with a slap.

His hand.

She was whipped around, her hand clutching the bed frame as her other went up to her eye, where he had hit her.

Hard.

She had never had a black eye before, but she was sure this was how it developed.

Her back was now to him, and she couldn’t see his face.

She couldn’t know if he was sorry, or guilty, or still angry, or even satisfied.

She hoped to God it wasn’t the last two.