Read Online Bittersweet Chocolate by Emily Wade-Reid - Free Book Online

“Uh-uh, I don’t want to hear it. I suggest you break yourself of your mindless habits. Around me, those inane quirks can be lethal, for one of us.”
    “Please, Marissa, don’t leave. I’ll make it up to you.”
    “Make it up...hell, don’t you get it?” An edge of impatience had crept into her voice and she inhaled a slow, even breath in an attempt to calm down before she continued. “Joel, listen to what I’m telling you. I don’t want you to make it up to me. Based on our history together, I won’t leave this time, but I won’t tolerate any more violence.”
    “Honey, please. Come to bed, let me make love to you. I’ll make everything right.”
    Her gaze, probably a doe in the headlights simulation, fixed on him while she did her best guppy in a fish tank look―mouth opening, closing― oh, no he didn’t.
    “Make love. You can not be serious,” she scoffed. “A word of advice. While you’re gone, take time to reassess our relationship, consider if it’s right for you, any future in it. I’ll do the same.”
    He calmly accepted her remarks without a comeback, and there it was again, the unnerving mood swing. Nonetheless, given the time invested in the relationship, she’d hang in and consider the chances of working out their differences, sans any more violence.
    Hell. During the two years they had dated, she’d encountered his mother and father maybe three or four times, and that was three or four times too many. She didn’t like his father and his father didn’t like her. The mother seemed whipped, afraid to speak, unless the father allowed it.
    For all Marissa knew about Joel’s home life, as a husband role model, the father might have included beating the wife when she didn’t conform. If Joel believed relationships worked that way, and his form of alpha dog mentality included hitting, he needed to recognize, and get over himself, or move on. Conforming, if unreasonable, was not her forte, but boxing was, and in a one on one, she probably could take him.
     
    The following morning, she woke to find Joel gone. On her nightstand, there was a slip of paper with two words scrawled across it— sorry Marissa.
    While she prepared for work, she kept thinking about the events of the previous night. Try as she might, she couldn’t fathom what had triggered his violent outburst. She hadn’t said anything they hadn’t discussed dozens of times before.
    Leaning close to the mirror, she examined her bruised cheek, added a touch of makeup to hide traces of the mark left by his hand, then grinned. Wonder what he looks like this morning, and how he’ll explain a fat lip to his coworkers.
     
    Joel was gone for a month.
    The first week after his departure, she had a few more creepy occurrences. She’d hear the night noises, climb out of bed, and check the entire apartment. Returning to bed, she’d lay awake for a while, listening, then laugh it off as the result of her penchant for watching too many Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi movies. Or residual effects from recent viewings of several horror classics on the All-Night Movies Frightfest. Her favorite William Castle flick Homicidal had been one of the features. Love the fright break at the end.
    During the rest of Joel’s absence, setting aside her nocturnal escapades, and unconcerned with Joel’s erratic behavior, she moved forward with plans for her party. Each night after work, she’d spend time on the invitations, sending them out the week before he was due home.
     
    He returned on the day of the party with an attitude, big time. She presumed he’d remained pissed about their last encounter, because he didn’t write, and only called once while gone. He used to contact her once a week during cross-country trips.
    “I have to get back on the road later this evening for another long haul.” His gaze raked her body from head to toe.
    “Did you forget about my party plans with our neighbors?”
    “Don’t let me stop you. Enjoy