#controlling

The bar was warmer than you expected…soft lights, low music, a slow hum of conversations that blurred together. You sat alone in a corner booth, fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you checked the time on your phone for the third time in ten minutes. Your date was late, surprisingly alike your ex husband, Bruce.

You sighed, leaning back in your seat, looking out the window. It was sweet, the snow was falling softly, setting in that beautiful Christmas atmosphere.

It was calm. Not some fancy five star restaurants on the top of the world. Not over the top date in Copenhagen Opera House. This was a normal date, with a normal man.

Just…normal?

A message pulled you out of your thoughts, a text from your date.

“Be there in a minute, parking my car now”

You smiled, texting him back a quick “okay” and fixing your sweater.

But when the door opened, and a familiar scent filled the room like a cold wind before you even looked up… you felt your stomach drop.

Because you already knew who it was.

And it wasn’t your date. If anything it was non other than Bruce Wayne. Your ex husband, the man you made a family with, raised 4 children with.

You quickly pulled your gaze down, not daring to look at him for too long. You knew he was still keeping tabs on you. It wouldn’t be Batman if he wasn’t constantly checking in on his wife.

Bruce stood at the doorway, scanning the place with his cold look, the look he only gave to his worse enemies. He needed his wife back, he doesn’t play about that. His coat was wet from all the snow falling on it, his hair a bit wet too. He straightened his posture, jaw tight as he walked in.

He spotted you in seconds. I mean how couldn’t he?You were his wife after all.

You could feel it, feel his gaze on you. Everything inside uou went still. But he didn’t look shocked. He looked…relieved, letting out a breath like he’s been holding it in for years.

Without thinking about it, he made his way towards you.

A shadow fell across your table, and a voice you once knew by heart and still do broke the peace you’ve built for yourself.

“Didn’t know you were out tonight.” Bruce said sternly, his hands in the pocked of his expensive coat. It was weird, he never spoke sternly with you. He was always gentle.

You closed your eyes. Obviously you didn’t expect him to apologies or anything like that, you just forgot how straightforward he is exactly.

You looked up at him, because pretending he wasn’t there isnt an option anymore.

“Bruce,” you said, sighing softly despite how fast you heart was beating. “What are you doing here?”.

He glanced at the empty seat across from you, the table set for two. He knew. How couldn’t he? He knew everything about you, his beloved wife.

“I could ask you the same thing” he said.

You lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a bar. People go to bars.” you argued with logic. He can’t go against that, right? Right??

His eyes flicked to you, something sharp and almost pained behind them.

“Do they? Do they really go to bars with no motives?” he asked. A bar date wasn’t a date for him. It was a mockery of what the two of you had.

You were about to respond — something smart, something distant, when your phone lit up on the table.

“I’m coming in. Sorry again for being late!” Mark texted. Just in the right time…

Bruce’s eyes dropped to the screen. Just a second. Barely a flicker. But it was enough. It’s all he needed to confirm his suspension. It’s your pathetic excuse of a man. The man you chose to play with.

His expression went cold, brows furrowed. His posture straightened. Something aching, something unguarded flashed across his face for the first time.

He looked back at you, voice low. “Hes the reason why you’re here” he said, didn’t even ask. He knows he’s right, hes a detective after all…

You reached for it, but he placed his hand on the table first not touching you, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He looked down at you, not once ruining his perfectly straight posture. Everything on him had to be perfect.

You swallowed. “Bruce…please don’t…“

“No.” he said. There was no hesitation, no space for argument. Like he was right. Because he was.

“You’re meeting him” he said, quieter this time… but so much more angrier.

“Does he know?” Bruce asked. He’s not playing around.

You blinked, surprised. “Know what..?”

He held your gaze with those sharp blue eyes.

“Does he know you’re still my wife?” he said. He never signed the divorce papers, because you’re not going anywhere. It’s just some silly phase you’re going through because you two have been together for such a long time, you just wanted some thrill. It’s okay! You can play! As long as you come back home of course.

Your breath caught. “We’re separated, Bruce. I’m not your wife anymore..” you reminded him, avoiding his gaze.

He was quick to respond. “You’re still my wife.” he said as he took your phone, listing all the messages you got today. Messages from other men, on the phone he bought for you. Besides whatever you say is irrelevant here, he knows if you’re his wife or not.

“Bruce…” you tried to respond, tried to reason with him.

“And the mother of my children,” he added, voice rough. “Which means I have every right to know who you’re spending your time with”

You stared at him, now narrowing your eyes at him. “You don’t get to decide that anymore” you said, crossing your arms.

“You really think I’m going to stand here and let some pathetic man try to take my place?” he asked, voice almost too calm. You were misbehaving, again. Now he has to stop this little game youre trying to play.

“It’s not about taking your place” you responded. As if it couldn’t have gone worse, he keeps going.

“Of course it’s about that” he scoffed.

Before you could respond, the door opened. And you saw your date, Mark, walk in. Looking for you. So oblivious to the fact that your ex husband was ready to do anything to put a stop to this.

Bruce saw him too.

Something in him snapped.

Just a flicker in his eyes that deep, territorial fear that every man who’s lost too much and refuses to lose one more thing feels.

He now stood closer to you, blocking Mark’s view of you completely with his body. His every move was calculated. He’s going to stop this game.

“In a few seconds…” Bruce started quietly, as if he was whispering something to you. “he’s going to come over here and try to sit across from you”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Bruce leaned closer, voice going back to that tone he only used when you were being bratty.

“And I’m telling you right now… I’m not letting that happen. This game that you’re playing, this phase. It ends here, now”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What?? What phase? What are you talking about??” you said genuinely confused, what the fuck was he talking about?

His eyes burned into yours.

“I’m not losing my family,” he said, dead serious and dead set on getting you back home. “Not again. Not to your little game. Not to any man out there”

Mark started walking toward the table.

Bruce didn’t move. He didn’t step aside, he didn’t even blink.

He straightened up again, looking down at you with the same look he had when he was Batman.

Expect it’s different, this was about you. His beloved wife….

And the children you shared. The future you two will have, hes not letting go, not so soon. Not ever, actually.

—

"Never volunteer or travel or try anything new" is not a good lesson to teach your kids, by the way.

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