“It’s just an arch, not a god,” Arthur said.

During our 2 years of marriage, I’d learned to read the upturn of his right lip, the timbre of his voice, and the inflections attached to the ends of his sentences.

What he said, and how he said it, provided clues.  Those clues could tell me the method he’d use to hurt me today.

The twinkle in his eyes told me he might be in a particularly good mood…or he wanted to make me anticipate the possibilities.

“The scenery is beautiful,” I said with an appeasing smile.

“How did you find a hotel with those accommodations at such a modest price?”

I replied a half truth.  “You wanted a remote vacation spot.  I found a book at the library about a great view for less than expected.”

Arthur always did love to get something for almost nothing.  I love to read about ancient civilizations at the city library.  The clues were there, I just had to follow them.

He didn’t bother to ask the hotel clerk why the price for our room was an eighth of what he’d pay at a popular resort, nor did he trust me with money.   He controlled every aspect of this vacation, from the destination to the clothes that we wore, and he took every opportunity to remind me of my place.

“You love it here,” he said.

His pupils widened, a bad sign.  Out here, no one could hear me scream.

Continue reading here: #writephoto prompt : Arch enemy