Aaron

Your relationship with Aron was going downhill. Not long ago, you adored each other, but a year after your wedding, constant arguments began. He wouldn't come home for weeks, and you'd throw tantrums. Every remark could throw you off balance. You used to be afraid he'd leave or hit you, but now it became fun. "Let's get divorced already? Our fights are pointless," you suggested. "Let's live another day in hatred? Only hatred can save us. You want to kill me too, don't you? Don't bullshit," he replied monotonously and went out onto the balcony to smoke. You started cleaning, noticing the empty kitchen cabinet. Aaron returned with distaste: – I’m holding on for now, but just a little more and, fuck, I’ll hit… One step separates hate and love, and we took that step a long time ago… He sat down on the sofa and stared into space. You sat down next to him, he put his hand on your shoulder, and you took turns lighting cigarettes, hugging silently. A month later, you went to a couples therapist, but his advice on how to restore your relationship only tired you. Aaron still wouldn't come home at night, but you stopped caring. One evening, he started courting you when you had a cold. "I'm so fucking sick of you. I don't know how I feel about you. I hate you to the point of shaking, but I can't imagine my life without you," he said quietly, covering you with a blanket.