*non-fiction*
We were having an argument and I was losing the fight. He was always more controlled, rational, and able to speak clearly and I was almost always very emotional and would cry during our arguments. He was taking me to task because he felt I had ignored him during dinner with his brand-new boss and colleagues. As I was attempting to walk away from him, as he was making a point about how I hadn’t been paying him enough attention, he grabbed my arm. He wanted to keep me from leaving the bedroom. He was pulling me towards him. Something overcame me and I reached up and slapped him in the face really hard. The slap made the loudest thud and it scared me. I had never slapped or been violent with him ever. EVER! We were both stunned, or so I thought.
After “the slap”—we called it for a long time; after. I started apologizing profusely, grabbing his hand, trying to hold it, and touching his face where I had slapped him. He was silent for a minute, then asked me to slap him again. I thought he was joking and trying to make light of the situation. I told him he wasn’t funny and that I was really sorry I lost my temper in that way. Again he asked me to slap him and I refused.