She was everything soft in a world that had gone hard. That’s what drew me to her first. The way her eyes flinched at kindness like she wasn’t used to it, like love was a sudden light after too many years in the dark.

I was the one who lit her up. Me.

Her name? Doesn’t matter. You’ll know her by the way the air changes when she walks into a room. By the hush that falls over chaos when she speaks. By the way I looked at her like she was made of glass and fire at the same time.

I loved her the way floods love riverbanks — enough to carve her into something new. She said I changed her. And I did. I made her sharper. I made her mine.

The first time I raised my hand, it was barely a touch. Just a nudge. A warning. She said something cruel — she’s got a tongue like a whip when she wants — and I snapped. But I said sorry. I kissed the spot. I cried more than she did.

The next time it left a mark. Dark, blooming on her shoulder like a bruise-colored lily. I stared at it too long, mesmerized. Like art I didn’t mean to make.

She started covering up. Long sleeves in summer. Makeup that smudged easy. She flinched when I reached for her. But she stayed.

She always stayed.

Don’t talk to me about monsters. Monsters don’t beg for forgiveness. Monsters don’t sit outside the bathroom door crying when she locks herself inside. I loved her. I still do. But love — real love — is not always clean. Sometimes it’s raw. Sometimes it’s what you do when you’re scared she’s slipping through your fingers.

She’s still here, isn’t she? That means something. That means it wasn’t all bad.

We had good days. Days where she laughed — that laugh that cracked the world open. Days I kissed every inch of her and she didn’t pull away. She looked at me like I was home. Like I was safe.

I know what I did. I know the blood. The bruises. The way she stopped looking me in the eyes. I know I took something soft and tried to own it.

I watch her from the doorway of the bathroom, applying makeup to her most recent bruise.

“You should quit wearing make up.”