She woke up on the living room floor, the bat in her hand and the dust still settling around her. After being dulled for so long, her senses now seemed to overwhelm her—the feel of the carpet on the skin of her bare arms and legs, the taste of the sweat on the top of her lip, the details in the wood of the broken ceiling fan blades dangling above her, the sound of the silence in the house as it recovered from her violence. She savored that silence the most, it only intermittently interrupted by the soft sound of her own breath. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It was a beautiful sound.
Then she heard him. The car in the driveway, the key in the door, and then…
She closed her eyes, damning his disruption. She heard his quick footsteps coming closer.
“Julie?! Honey?! Oh my God, what happened? Are you OK?”
She snapped open her eyes, locking her gaze with his, really looking at him for the first time in months, and parted her lips to say that which she’d wanted to say for years.