As I head to the bed, about to turn off the light, I notice something on her upper arm, a bruise shaped like a handprint. My heart races with anger. She did came straight to sleep after visiting her sister's at a cafe or that's what she told me before going out.

“Love, wake up,” I say, my voice is sharper than I meant it to be.

She jolts awake, eyes darting around before landing on me. “What's..What’s wrong..?”

“Who did this to you?” I hissed, pointing at her arm.

“Huh? Oh...umm...It’s nothing,” she replies, looking away.

“I didn’t ask what it was. I asked who.” I started wearing my shirt I just took off, feeling her eyes on me.

“What are you doing? Why are you mad...?”

“Answer me. Who did this?” My gaze burned on her bruise, tension crackling in the air.