Rifah Rahman • cherryriotyouth

“It doesn't matter," she finally said. "Fuck her all you want. Fuck her while the bunnies watch." He looked at her then, surprised. He hadn't realized she knew about the bunnies.
Something shifted inside of her and knocked her anger loose. It felt good---really good---to be furious, to be in a murderous mood. She saw colors differently and her body temperature rose. In that moment, Jane couldn't feel anything else---not sadness or jealousy or doubt. Only full-throated rage and a rush of empathy for Left Eye Lopes, who she saw now had been deeply misunderstood.
"Jane, come on," Mike said.
They pulled up to the restaurant. They were supposed to go inside and discuss things, sit calmly and talk about their feelings. Jane put both of her hands on the dashboard as if she were bracing for impact and screamed, "Bunny fucker," so loudly that her chest hurt. Then she straightened up and said, "Take me home."
Mike drove with caution, coming to complete stops and using his turn signal as if sudden movements would make things worse. He was scared of her and that made her happy.
"Go pay Amy," she said. "And then put the kids to bed. I'm going for a walk."
Mike sat there, his mouth open.”
― Jennifer Close, Marrying the Ketchups