Sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest, I feel small and awkward. It shouldn’t be like this between us.
“I’ve been taking your pills.” His jaw ticks and his neck muscles bulge.
The words, spoken with no remorse or regret, widen my eyes and straighten my back. His face is expressionless, and even though I knew, I’m shocked. Hearing him say it aloud, confessing to it, is increasing my already speeding heart rate.
“I said I’ve been taking your pills.” He sounds angry.
This can’t be ignored any longer. I can feel the dormant anger sizzling inside of me, pushing me to release it. My period is due tomorrow, and I’m certain it’s not going to arrive. This man, my crazy husband, has just completely and unashamedly confessed to stealing my birth control pills, and now my denial is converting into blood-boiling fury.
“Ava, for fuck’s sake, woman!” His hands fly to his head in frustration. “I’ve been taking your fucking pills!”
I don’t even try to reason because there is absolutely nothing reasonable about this.
I snap.
My naked body flies up from the bed and as I pace toward him, he watches me closely, cautiously, until I’m standing before him. Then I slap him clean across his face. My palm is instantly on fire, but I’m too angry to focus on the pain. His head has turned to the side, his eyes are down, and I can still only hear our fitful breathing, except now they’re not sated, heavy breaths; they’re anger-fuelled gasps. He brings his face back up and before I’m aware of what I’m doing, my hand is flying out again, but this time he catches my wrist in front of his face. I yank myself free and proceed to thump his chest with both fists in a frenzied lashing out of anger. And he lets me. He just stands there and takes my deranged beating, my fists persistently striking him as I scream and wail, and when I think I might collapse with exhaustion, I step back and lose control of my tears.
“Why?” I shout at him.
He doesn’t try to touch me or come toward me. He just remains standing in the doorway, still with no emotion on his face. His frown line isn’t even there, but I know he must be concerned, and he must be really concentrating on not restraining his deranged wife.
“You were ignoring it, Ava. I need you to acknowledge this.” His voice is soft and even. “I needed to spike a reaction from you.”
I thought I just needed to hear him say it—to admit that he’s been underhanded and deceitful. I was wrong. Now I want to know why, and the burning anger inside of me is telling me that no excuse is going to calm me.
“Tell me why the fucking hell you did this to me!”
“Because I wanted to keep you forever,” he whispers.
It’s not good enough.
I turn and head for the wardrobe, wasting no time grabbing my jeans and yanking them on once I’m there.
“What are you doing?” His voice is full of the fear I knew it would be. He’ll never cope with this, but neither will I if I stay. This has suddenly hit me very hard.
I don’t answer him, instead focusing on getting my bra and T-shirt on before I tug down an overnight bag.
“Ava, what the hell are you doing?” The bag is snatched from my hand. “You’re not leaving me.” His words are somewhere between a demand and a plea.
“I need some space.” I seize the bag back and start stuffing my clothes in.
He grips my arm, but I pull myself free. “Ava, please.”
“Please what?” My clothes are being yanked and rammed into my bag viciously, but I worry I might turn on Jesse again if I don’t focus on this, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. I know what I’ll see.
Fear.
“Please, Ava, don’t go.”
I turn and storm past him, heading for the bathroom to collect my toiletries. He’s not restraining me, and I know why. It’s the same reason he’s been delicate with me for weeks. Because he thinks he’ll hurt his baby.
He’s behind me, I know he is, but I continue gathering my things, fighting the overwhelming need to lash out, but at the same time, fighting the need to comfort him. I’m so confused.
“Ava, please, let’s talk about this.”
I swing around in shock. “Talk?”
He nods sheepishly. “Please.”
“What is there to talk about? You’ve done the most underhanded thing possible. Nothing you could say will make me understand this. This is my life!”
“But you knew I was taking them.”
“Yes, I did! But perhaps because of all the other shit you’ve thrown on me since I’ve met you, I didn’t consider how fucked-up this really is. Wanting to keep me isn’t good enough. That’s not a decision you get to make on your own!” I try to calm myself, but I’m fighting a losing battle. “What about me?” I scream in his face. “What about what I want?”