Tonight, he’s talking to her. Sweetheart this and honey that. Lighting her cigarette and pouring a beer. Asking her, do you want a blanket? Could I turn the heat up for you? Kissing her on the forehead and rubbing her feet. Chet Baker sings in the background.

Last night, the two yelled at each other till sun-up. Harsh words were said. You son of a bitch, she screamed. You’re a whore, he told her. All this ranting about being drunks and having their child taken away. It’s your fault, she said. All of it. You left bruises on my baby. You hit my kid, she said.

What about you? he asked. The bath water was too hot. Skin burnt. Always crying. Did you ever wash his clothes? he pulled a gun out. This time, I’m going to do it. I’m going to rid myself of this problem for good, he laughed, pointing the gun at her.

Don’t.  Just put the gun down, she said. Please. Don’t do this, a window opened. Down below traffic drove down 1st Avenue. The bars were closing. Men lined up for day labor. The sun rose over the Hudson. He put the gun away. They held each other. Sorry, never sounded so sweet.

Tonight, he’s talking to her. Sweetheart this and honey that. Chet Baker sings in the background.