"The kids need to eat."
Yes, that was my answer.
I had failed as a man, as a provider.
I had failed as a husband. As a father.
And now, I had failed as a person.
I lay there, unable to move, unable to do anything but listen.
People came and went. She asked, begging them to take her. But none did.
She was too thin, too tired-looking, just another broken woman in a city that had no use for broken things.
Not even for a few coppers, the price of a cheap meal at an inn.
I almost smiled at that.
Happy that no one would touch her.
...Angry that she was of no use.
That flickering relief didn't last long.
A few men bought her for an entire night. Took turns on her in some filthy alleyway, no different from the one we called home. And I was there, lying on the cold ground, hungry as always, listening as they used her body like she was nothing more than a piece of fuckable meat.
She screamed.
They laughed.
And I…
I covered my ears.
