Everything will get better...

‘I’m sorry’ he says, for the umpteenth time this month. She’d be rich if she had a dollar for each time. The bruises on her arm were a hue of violets and lavenders, matching the flowers he bought. They never had the chance to heal. But it didn’t hurt as much anymore. The wound inside was harder to bear. But he already said sorry. She smiled through a cut lip as she accepted his bouquet. He kissed her swollen eye. She reeled back a bit due to the pain. Her rib hurt as he pulled her close for a hug. She hangs on to hope for a better day. Everything will get better soon enough.