Jude’s cries spiral louder.
Bren reaches for him, but Elodie whips away, stumbling into the table with a crash. Jude sags in her arms, and she tries to heft him higher on her hip, but then Bren is there, arms sliding around Jude as he yanks him from Elodie.
“You’rehurting him!” Bren roars.
It happens so swiftly. Jude in her arms, then gone. The coldness where he was once fused to her side like a wound, open and hot and throbbing.
For a minute, there is perfect silence, both of them breathing hard as they stare at each other. Jude buries his face in Bren’s neck, his crying sliding into silent, heaving sobs. There is war in her eyes, matched in Bren’s glare, and the vicious bitterness lingering in the air between them sits on their tongues like pepper. When she doesn’t move, Bren very carefully sits Jude back in his seat.
“Stay there for a sec, little buddy.” He thumbs tears from Jude’s face. “I’m just going to talk to Mommy.” Then he stands, grabs Elodie’s arm, and drags her out of the kitchen.
She fights, her rage turning to a fierce shriek as she hits at his arm, but he doesn’t release her, instead pushing her into the darkened hall and pressing her to the wall. It is the full weight of him against her that terrifies her. It doesn’t matter if he’s being gentle; he is taller, stronger; he is the one in control of their bodies right now. Her shoulder blades scrape wallpaper as he leans into her, and she thinks this is his plan: to flatten her so hard against the house, it will simply open up and swallow her whole.
His lips hover only inches from hers and she thinks about crashing her mouth into his, of biting until flesh rips open like a soft, fresh plum.
“Let me go.” Her voice is deadly cold. “Or I will call the police and say my husband is abusing me.”
“You won’t.” His calm is flat, low, but without malice. “People like you are terrified of the law. You’d never willingly ask them to look at you, lookintoyou, right, Elodie?”
She can’t breathe. Her fingers slide into his sweater and twist until he presses even closer to her, hip bone ground against hers.
“But you’d never lie to me about anything,” Bren goes on. “Surely, I have nothing to worry about. So why don’t we have a rational conversation about Jude, and you tell me why you’re purposefully starving him.”
“You have no idea what you’re saying,” she hisses.
“You can’t stop him growing up.”
“He isn’tgrowing up.” Her voice hardly sounds like her own, rather something ripped out of guttural, feral places, her teeth lengthening to wicked points as she digs her fingernails into the flesh of Bren’s side. He doesn’t flinch.
Silence grows between them, bleeds.
Her eyes flutter closed, and she holds her breath, forcing the volcanic anger back down to a simmer in the pit of her gut.Control yourself.She can’t be this venomous, untamed creature. She must be sweet and tentative, a girl who loves ballet and pretty things and her little boy and her beautiful husband. Mitigate the damage of this monster she’s let show. And do it fast.
“Bren.” She pulls his name from her mouth, strained and wretched. “Please…”
“Nice,” Bren says, calm and quiet. “You figured out how deranged you sound.”
She lets out a long, shuddering breath and her body softens into his hard, unforgiving chest. He is still pressing her hard to the wall, but she molds to him, taking a box cutter to her anger and draining the abscess.
“I’m doing my best.” Tears fill her voice.
He says nothing.
“You drugged me.” It comes out barely above a whisper. “I’mpregnant.”
Discomfort flashes in his eyes, but then his jaw sets. “I checked that it wouldn’t hurt the baby.”
“So you planned this ahead of time? And what about me?” As much as she wants to roar, she forces her voice into a tearful whimper. “Or am I just an incubator for your child?”
“Elodie, stop it. I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’tbeing like this.” A muscle in his jaw flexes and he sighs. “Look, I know you’ve been unwell. That news about your parents shook you up, I get that. But I’m going to help you and you are going to let me.” He pauses. “I’m adopting Jude. I started the paperwork.”
She could strike him.
“No,” she snaps.
Frustration laces his voice. “This is insane. We’re starting a family together, we should all have one name. Plus, this fixes any future visa issues we might have. It makes sense.”
Cold plummets through her chest, a scream of rage trapped behind her teeth. “You’ll need my signature and I won’t sign.”
