[ti]private[/ti] i promise you i'll be better

Trigger Warning: Discussions & themes of domestic abuse

There wasn’t much that Taylor left the house for anymore. She left in the mornings for work Monday through Friday and came home again straight afterwards. She went shopping for groceries on Saturday mornings and… well, that was about it. It wasn’t that she couldn’t divert from this schedule, but it just… often wasn’t worth the risk. Arriving home at a different time than expected was a dangerous game to play. It invited questions. Questions always seemed to invite disbelief and accusations. And she’d found over the last few years of marriage that questions and accusations, regardless of what answers were offered, were often followed by violent outbursts.

So, she generally broke from her usual pattern only when she was fairly certain that the house would be empty by the time she got back. There was no guarantee of course – occasionally Lucas would tell her he’d be home late but would actually get back early, just to test if she’d really be home when she should or not. Everything felt like a balance of risk verses reward lately. Make this choice and it might provoke a violent reaction. Forgo that recreation or social obligation and it might make life a little easier. She never thought she’d be so easy to bring to heel. She barely recognised herself in the mirror anymore.

Bruises were easy enough to cover. She was a dab hand with concealer and foundation by now. The slightly dead look in her eyes was… less so.

Today, she broke routine.

Perhaps the recent time spent in VR and the social interaction it brought had emboldened her. Perhaps the fight last night had pushed her just that tiniest bit too far. Perhaps she just needed a breath of fresh air; the tiniest taste of freedom to keep hold of her sanity. Regardless, she strolled down the street now – she’d left the lab about twenty minutes prior and was wandering aimlessly, doing little more than soaking up the sun. The sky-blue blouse she wore was tucked into slim fitting black slacks, twin vertical rows of decorative, silver buttons running along either hipbone. Her face was tipped up towards the sky, soaking in the warm sun.

With a deep breath, she paused, returning her attention to the street, and glancing around. She should probably buy something while she was here. Pick up something, anything, that could serve as reason for the detour.

After a moment, her eyes landed on a flower shop. She blinked slowly, almost dully. Flowers were good. She liked flowers, right? She rather thought she did. So, with a breath that seemed like it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be resolute or resigned, she stepped towards the small store. Pushing open the door a little tentatively, she squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the change in light.