Thirteen years with Kenneth, and we had never once used those.
"They don't feel good. I don't like them."
So every time, I was the one swallowing the pill afterward.
Thirteen years, and we'd only had one accident.
That child, he didn't keep.
I didn't even know whether the fact that it never happened again meant something was wrong with my body or the pills just worked that well.
"We don't have any in the house."
My teeth were clenched when I said it, and I couldn't stop my body from trembling.
"Then go out and buy some."
"She's pregnant now. It's inconvenient without them."
My fingers curled into fists inside my sleeves. I looked up at him, disbelief crawling through me.
"Kenneth, do you have any idea how hard it's raining out there?"
Only then did he turn toward the window. In the pitch-black night, rain hammered the glass like gravel.
"Drive."
He pressed the car keys into my palm. "Nobody's asking you to walk in the rain. Stop being dramatic."
I stood there. The keys burned against my skin.
I took one deep breath, and then I walked out the door.
With Kenneth, I was obedient most of the time.