So, I do. He falls asleep only a minute after he comes. I don’t even have the energy to get myself off after the weird day I had.
IT’S A SUNDAY AND Ryan and I have nothing planned. I wake with a smile on my face, excited to laze around all day with my boyfriend. He let me move into this house only a few months ago, and so far, we haven’t gotten a whole day to just relax.
I stretch my body, enjoying all the aches and pains being stretched out. Ryan’s bed is absolute heaven, the perfect mixture of firmness and lying on a cloud. My body had lied on nothing but hard floors and lumpy beds up until I moved in. It had actually taken a good month before I stopped waking up incredibly sore—my body not used to anything so luxurious. Now, I can hardly remove from myself from the bed.
Ryan’s spot next to me is empty. Patting his spot, I find that it’s cool. He’s been up for a little while now. The smile slowly fades from my face as my hand wanders over the spot he occupied all night. We used to wake up together on the weekends and snuggle in bed before we had to get up and attend to our responsibilities. It’s been a few months since the last time he stuck around in the mornings.
Ryan’s been acting weird lately. Aggressive, distrustful, distant, and flat-out mean. While Ryan’s always been a bit edgy, he’s never caused this amount of turmoil in our relationship before. Up until recently, he’s always gone out of his way to make me feel special, loved, and cared for.
So many memories of wonderful dates that ended in passionate sex. Moments where we would just laugh together, sometimes for no reason at all. Him doting on me, professing love to me in the cutest ways, and always surprising me with sentimental gifts. I don’t know when those memories started mixing with much darker ones. The sentiments and doting are nowhere to be seen. All the little things he used to do for me, like making sure I had coffee in the morning, keeping my favorite water stocked, or coming home with flowers after work, have disappeared. Now, it’s just Ryan demanding to go through my phone, calling me a whore for wearing too much make-up or revealing clothes, and now putting his hands on me in almost violent ways.
Work has been stressing him lately, maybe that’s why. He’s still trying to make a name for himself that isn’t attached to his father’s. I can be understanding and let those little things go, they’re not things I need from him anyway. As long as Ryan and I are happy, that’s all that matters.
Hopping up, I quickly run my hands through my hair. I’ll brush my teeth after breakfast. Though, I can’t smell anything cooking yet.
When I walk down into the living room, Ryan’s lounging shirtless on the couch with his laptop on his lap and his reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks so damn sexy, I want to jump his bones. Bilby is lying in his usual spot on the back of couch, snoozing loudly.
I rescued him from the shelter a few months ago, and he’s been my little shadow ever since. Ryan doesn’t pay much attention to him, and often sneers at the cat hair everywhere, but otherwise doesn’t complain too much. Ryan had asked me to quit my job when I moved in, so I’ve been lonely in the house while he works. Having a companion has eased the majority of my loneliness.
“Good morning,” I chirp.
He spares me a glance but doesn’t say anything.
I pause on the last step. Uh. Okay then.
“Do you want breakfast?” I ask.
“What do you think I’ve been waiting for?” he asks coldly, not looking up from his screen. My smile falls and all happiness slowly deflates.
“Fuck!” he shouts unexpectedly, slamming his laptop on the couch angrily. I jump from the sudden outburst, my hand flying to my chest as if I’m keeping it from jumping out of my ribcage.
“What’s wrong?” I question breathlessly, trying to reign my heartbeat back into a normal tempo.
“Fucking internet went out again,” he mutters, storming to his office where the router is. I stand there confused, staring at the space he disappeared from. He’s been fighting with our cable company for the last few months about this, but he’s never gotten this worked up about it before. Within seconds, he comes storming back in, plops down on the couch and proceeds to work on his laptop again.
“Is there anything else wrong?” I ask hesitantly. Another glance, this time filled with annoyance.
“No.”
Deciding to let it go for now, I immediately start making breakfast. French toast, bacon and eggs. Maybe he’s just hungry and that’s why he has an attitude. It’d be hypocritical to act like I don’t get hangry sometimes, too. I pile his plate high when the food’s done, and even add a few fresh strawberries and cream on his French toast.
He takes the plate and digs in. In complete silence. Not even a thank you.
Of fucking course not.
Slowly, I sit down next to him and eat. Did I do something wrong? I don’t want to anger him further. I look to him, watching his face for a reaction to the food. It’d only make things worse if I didn’t make a good breakfast for him.
“Do you like it?” I ask anxiously. He glances at me, licking a dollop of cream of the corner of his mouth.
“I’m eating it, aren’t I?”
I frown. That’s not really an answer.
I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s a wall around him. Like if I speak, he’l
l snap. I keep my mouth closed. I keep it closed during breakfast, during lunch and even during dinner. My only source of entertainment is playing with Bilby until Mary and Ava arrive.
They’re house cleaners Ryan hired to come every Sunday. Most days, I insist on helping. I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself, so I always feel weird letting the girls clean up after us.