Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

With her, it’s always been about the reaction. She knows what buttons of
mine to push, and how hard to push them until I pounce.
Once upon a time, it was almost a game we played; she’d dig beneath my
skin with her quips and harsh words, her jealousy and spite, and like a
fucking lamb I’d follow her right to the slaughter.
I smirk, not bothering to answer as I sweep the room, noting the halfcocked
balcony door just behind her.
The layout of this room is seared into my memory, its white walls much
more familiar to me than those of my actual home, the books on the built-in
shelves ones I’ve mentioned over the years.
Their presence gives me pause; there’s no way Elena wouldn’t pack at
least The Romantics, and yet I see volumes of poetry sitting where they have
forever, untouched and left behind.
My gut tightens, my gaze swinging back to Carmen’s. She glares at me,
putting her hands on her wide hips.
“Where is she?” I ask, forcing my tone to remain level even as my body
itches to propel forward and shove her against the wall.
She shrugs. “Seemed rather eager to let me help her escape. Kind of odd
for a newlywed, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Carmen,” I say, moving toward the balcony as a shadow
dances behind its doors, “never stopped you from trying, did it?”
Her mouth falls shut, and she moves with me, trying to block my exit. My
skin prickles when she brings her hands to my chest, disgust swirling inside
my gut, making my vision blur.
“I won’t let you corrupt my daughter,” she says, tears welling up in her
big brown eyes.
At one point, her pain may have worked on me; back when I was young
and naive enough to think Carmen Ricci was capable of caring for someone
other than herself. I can even feel myself wavering now as the tears spill over,
slicking down her cheeks.
But then she speaks again, breaking the illusion.
“Don’t use her to get back at me.”
Biting down on the inside of my cheek until that sweet, coppery taste
floods my senses, I let out a low chuckle, bending so my lips brush her ear.
She shivers, and it makes me nauseous.
“I’m not going to corrupt her,” I say, taking Carmen’s hands in mine,
curling my fingers around hers. “I’m going to ruin her, and every time she