Recursivity Follow story

Slap!

And so I bend over, face down, as my eyes well up once more.

“I won’t do it,” you say, like a promise. “I’ll never hit you again.”

And I don’t know what’s burning harder, my throbbing cheek or the thorn in my pride. I think about how you held my hand earlier and smiled at me as if I mattered. I nod quietly and you smile again.

Slap!