Carmen changed back into the dress she had on last night and left, heels in hand. Her arm hurt like hell, but she had driven in worse conditions before. The only thing she felt right then was fear. Utter, consuming, absolute fear. She was hoping he would be hungover and asleep, but the chances of that were little to none. He always waited for her after his drinking nights, and then have his way with her, no matter how painful it got for her. It was his way or not at all, and Carmen loved Aaron too much to ever let go of him. Maybe it wasn’t love, maybe it was fear that kept her with him, but she knew she would cry if he died. And she hoped he felt the same way.
The drive home seemed way too fast.