|Death to Valentine's Day | ©Literary Junkie|
"It's been four years of me carrying this relationship on my back. 365 days out of the year I'm giving my all--blood, sweat, and tears. And what do you do," Moni barked. "You stand me up on the one day where you could make it all worth it. I sat here for hours alone until I was sitting in the dark. Then, here you come stumbling in at almost midnight."
Ivan wiggled his bound wrist in an attempt to loosen the knotted tweed. He blew a series of breaths through his nose.
"No, you're going to sit right there and listen to every word I have to say." She sat across from him in a small chair. "You don't work. You never clean. You don't care to spend any time with me. But, I don't complain. I keep hoping and wishing for you to one day love me as much as I love you. For some reason, I thought you would propose to me. Let me know that everything I've been doing has not been in vain. I was kidding myself." She stood to grab the knife from the cake sitting at the center of the oak table. "Don't be angry with me, Ivan. I'm your worst creation. Happy Valentine's Day, My Love."