“Which one is it today, Jer?” I ask as I looked to my husband with a knife in his hands.

The things you do for love.

He walks towards me threateningly and good thing we were in the kitchen as I grabbed the wooden cutting board as my shield. Jeremiah threw the first stab right in the center of the board and kicked him right in the balls.

He kneeled over in pain and grabbed the knife away from his hands, putting it on the counter. My trusty handcuffs were swiftly pulled out from my back pocket as made sure his hands were tied.

When a man gets kicked in the jewels should they be usually this silent? Granted nothing about this man has been normal ever since the ordeal he went through being almost killed but I could always trust his overreactions when ‘fight’.

Its not really a fight because in fights you’d have to retaliate and not block and cuff down a man. I did not train in MMA to hurt the man I love no matter how little I see of him these days. Even if he’s there 1 minute of the day, I will stay and fight the demons that come out of him.

“You bitch.” Jer grunts glaring at me with a suspicious British accent.

“Edison, how do you do?” I greeted with my own fake accent. Jeremiah has never stepped foot in UK. Why does his alters have one? Maybe its all that doctor who.

It was Edison’s turn to retaliate as he kicked me making me fall on my back. He quickly grabbed the knife I stupidly left on the counter and awkwardly pointed it at me with both hands. Great now I have to keep 2 hand cuffs for his arms and legs.

“Untie me.” He said as if he wasn’t the one who started all this.

“Edison I’m gonna need you to bring back Jeremiah first then I’ll get the keys.”

“I’m not Edison.”

I rolled my eyes.

The knife is then nearer to my throat. The lighting is so good in the kitchen I can see my own reflection on it and just how sharp it really is. Damn, I really need to blunt these knives if I want to live any longer.

“Jeremiah I know you can’t come out right now but I’m going to need you to choose the good ones right now. Particularly someone who doesn’t want to kill me.” I call out hoping this time it can get to the real owner of my husband’s body.

“This body’s mine now.” Edison says, the knife tip already making a small cut, a small bit of blood coming out. It stings.

“Jer, I trust you.” I say as his knife points at my throat making the list of times I almost died because of him longer. Most people would have left already. Most people would throw him in some institution to get even more mentally unwell.

If there was one thing to know about me is that I am stubborn as hell.

“Its hurts.” I whine looking deeply into Edison/ Jeremy’s eyes. He doesn’t even look at me like he knows me.

Then like a switch, he drops the knife on the ground and I let go of the breath I was holding.

“Moo.” He says this time looking absent minded.

Jeremiah did say he grew up on a farm. Is he going to try to lay eggs next?

I run my hands through his hair. Its curly in a way that is stylish. So effortlessly handsome he is even with his brain refusing to let him be. “I should let you go. This is too hard.” I say, tears spilling out.

“Moo.”

I look down at my neck and the blood was still spilling even with such a small cut. Quality knives everybody.

“I’m sorry.” Jeremiah wipes the blood away with the sleeve of his shirt. “Please leave me, you deserve to not live with a time bomb like me.”

Then he kisses the top of my head and goes up. He quietly treated the wound with alcohol and cotton.

I couldn’t say anything for fear his alters might come out again. Though I have a million things to say to him, I match his quietness as I observe how he cares for me.

How he cooks me my favorite noodles.

How he packs bags so neatly you’d never have to sit on it to get it close.

How he says “please leave me.” as he shoves keys into your hands and you have no choice but to follow as your limit has been reached.

Jeremiah always seemed to know me better than myself. Its why I held on for so long.