I finish up my workout, grabbing my towel and draping it around my neck as I switch off the lights and come out of the gym room. The front door slams and Aaron’s loud voice carries through the foyer, his agitated tone making me feel a little uneasy. Since we came back from our honeymoon, where a small part of me started to think we might be able to be genuinely happy, things have gone downhill and proven that I should have kept my heart locked and my head on straight. That tiny band of gold around my finger has changed things, changed Aaron. Something shifted the minute we touched back down in LA, and from my experience, if something doesn’t feel right in the first instance then the chances are it probably isn’t.
“I’ve told you I don’t fucking have it at the moment…No, the earliest I can get it to you will be next Friday…Fine.” He abruptly hangs up the call and stands just inside the doorway, running his hands through his hair. His stress is almost visible, and I don’t know if it’s worth trying to talk to him when he is in this kind of mood but ignoring him will definitely make things worse. He glances up to find me looking at him.
“Hey!” I say cheerily before I walk over and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. The strong smell of alcohol coming off him indicates that he’s had more than one drink with his lunch. He’s been drinking a lot lately, but whenever I mention it, he dismisses my concerns.
“How long have you been standing there?” he snaps.
“Um, only a couple of seconds. I just had a workout and finished up as you came in. I’m just going to take a shower, then I’ll be down, okay?”
“Fine.” His tone is flat, completely indifferent, and it throws me. It shouldn’t make me feel so disappointed, but it does.
“Uh, just gimme ten,” I mumble.
“Sure.” The monotone answer makes me feel further deflated. I stupidly look forward to him coming home because a very naive part of me thinks each day he might be different, but today is no different from yesterday and all the conversation he can manage is monosyllabic. Dread crawls through my senses and I push away the feeling that I’ve been here before. Wouldn’t I just be better off alone?
I turn and take the stairs two at a time, hoping he’ll have mellowed by the time I come back down. Stripping off my sweat soaked clothes in record time, I fling them into the corner of the bathroom. Why do I even let him make me feel like this? Maybe a couple of years of marriage was too much to hope for; we’ve only just made it twelve weeks. I release the clip that has been gripping my hair in place and run my fingers through my long blonde locks. I haven’t had it cut or colored since the wedding and it hangs nearly to my waist.
I turn the shower on as hot as I can stand it and step in. The multiple jets pummel my overworked muscles and I close my eyes as the burning water stings my skin. It’s bordering on painful, but the feeling is a welcome distraction from the workings of my mind. Tipping my head back, I close my eyes and let the water flow down through the lengths of my hair.
A cold hand on my waist makes me jump, and I snap my head up and my eyes open to see Aaron standing in front of me. Judging by his lack of clothes, he’s joining me in the shower whether I like it or not.
“Baby,” he says softly, “I’m sorry I was blunt with you…”
My whole body tenses as his hands work their way around the curve of my hips and settle on my ass, pulling me closer to him as he plants kisses along my shoulder and collarbone. His arousal presses against my stomach as his hands slide along my wet skin. As much as I crave the physical closeness that we usedto have, I don’t want him. Not now, not like this. His recent behavior has pushed me away and the distance grows further with every second that passes in his company. My pre-marital guarded self is returning slowly and surely, and instinct tells me I have to brace it to survive.
I roll my shoulder away from him and step back. “Not now, Aaron.”
His hands stop their exploration of my body, and he pushes me away from him a little, holding my shoulders with his hands and crouching to look directly into my eyes.
“What do you mean, not now?” His hard stare makes me shiver, but I square my shoulders and refuse to be ground down.
“I mean exactly that. Not. Now.” I punctuate the last few words through gritted teeth so he fully understands that I will not be persuaded otherwise. I push his arms away and brush past him to get out of the shower, but his fingers grip my elbow tightly before I make it out.
“Not now? You’re denying me? I’m your husband for Christ’s sake. How are we ever going to get you pregnant?”
I hate how selfish he’s being, acting like I’ve ruinedhisplans. Well, he’s not the only one who is angry. I’m angry for letting him in, for letting my guard down, and most of all I’m angry at myself for falling for this shit and getting into a crappy situation yet again.
I put my hands on my hips and lean my body toward him, brave in my rising anger. “What about me? What if I don’t want to get pregnant, huh? Did you think of that?”
His face pales and his grip on my arm tightens. Shit, did I really just say that?Shit, Shit, Shit…I instantly regret voicing those words out loud. His expression tightens changes, his stance changes and suddenly the space we are in feels so small.
I feel small.
“What did you just say?” He comes closer so his face is only inches away from mine; his tone is lowered and his pupils are so dilated with rage that I momentarily wonder if he’s taken some kind of drug. I’ve had this feeling before, and it’s not one I had planned on revisiting, but here I am with the nervous adrenaline flowing through my body and making my legs shake, unable to find the courage I need to get the hell out of here. Aaron’s moods have been unpredictable of late, and I’ve been putting it down to him having a bad day, or the stresses and strains of work demands. I’ve been falling back into my old ways, making excuses for his snappy retorts, his unreasonable moods.
“You don’t want to have my baby?” he questions.
“Aaron it’s not like that.” I let out an exasperated breath. “I’m tired, you’re tired, and you’ve clearly had a bad day. So please, let’s just go and get dressed and have something to eat.” I sound desperate and I fucking hate it, but right now Ifeeldesperate, I will do anything to fast forward from this conversation and the tension that has rapidly filled this space. I just want him to let go of me so I can get out of here.
“We’ve been trying for a baby for three fucking months.” He grates the words out, his voice tight and strained and his teeth clenched. He’s still holding onto my arm, and his fingers are gripping me so tightly that I’m sure it will leave bruises.
Then his expression changes as though a thought has just plunked into place, his grip loosens and his brows pull together in a deep frown. He backs out of the shower, and in the time it takes me to put on my robe, he is pulling everything out of the cabinets and tearing the place apart. Creams and lotions are hitting the floor all around us, smashing and leaving a slippery mess.
“Aaron, what the hell are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer as he continues to empty the cupboards and drawers until the bathroom floor is covered. He kicks someof the things out of the way as he pushes past me, out of the en suite bathroom and into our bedroom.
“Where are they?” he roars, rushing to my dressing table.
