My wife loves me.

She’s made it clear throughout our years together.

Like the times she’s held my hair back while I filled the toilet with puke, or even the expensive diamond ring that sits on my ring finger.

My wife loves me, and she made it clear when the neighbours freaked out over finding their dog mauled in their backyard. The same dog who’d broken off it’s leash and tried to attack me two days ago.

She made it clear how far her love went when the news covered a story about a man who was found stabbed in a club bathroom, a man who I remember slapped my ass and catcalled me the same night.

My wife loves me, and sometimes I wonder if it’s too much.

I feel my heart hammer in my chest as the front door opens, my hands pausing from where they were cleaning the dishes. We never had enough money for a dishwasher.

“Honey? I got the chocolate you asked me to get at the store!” Her voice echos through the house as I try to find my words.

“You got the dark chocolate ones right?” I call back, wiping my hands off onto a hand towel.

I don’t turn around as she enters the kitchen. I hear her set things down onto the floating marble aisle.

“Obviously I did. It’s your favourite.” My breath hitches in my throat as her arms wrap around my waist. Her lips come to meet my neck as she presses soft kisses to it.

“Did you stop anywhere else besides the market?” I pray my shaking voice doesn’t sound as terrified as I am.

There’s a few moments of silence as her kisses stop and she doesn’t respond.

“I stopped at your brother-in-law’s house.” My hands clench as her breath creeps up my neck.

My sister married him last year, and with their cheap backyard wedding and how none of his family showed up, most of us had agreed that it wouldn’t last long.

“Marks place?” My brows furrowed, “Why were you there?”

“We had a talk. Mostly about you.” Her mouth comes up to bite gently on my ear lobe.

My heart drops and my knuckles go white from how hard I’m gripping the counter.

I remember my family dinner we attended, a somewhat celebration for one of my cousins finally getting pregnant with her boyfriend. I remember hearing Mark make remark about my old job, ‘Oh just ask Lily, I’m sure she knows all about getting laid’ I can’t remember who he’d said it too now, but the underlying taunting about my prostitution in my college years was obvious. I cried so hard when I got home that night, curling up in her arms as she spoke words of comfort.

“Oh. Only good things were said I hope?” I swallow hard and with how close she’s pressing into my back I’m sure she can feel it.

She chuckles, “Of course, like I’d ever let him speak bad about you.” My eyes fill with unshed tears as I know she’s right.

My wife loves me, and sometimes I worry if it’s too much.