Page 98 of Things We Burn

We didn’t speak again until the crib was put together, the food was consumed, and nothing was fixed between us.

I got up from the chair, with my plate, intending on grabbing Kane’s in order to take them downstairs, to clean and get some much-needed respite from his presence. Even though a large part of me didn’t want him out of my sight, another part, a weaker, more vulnerable part, couldn’t stand sitting in that room feeling his disdain coating me like oil.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he commanded in a clipped tone as I stood.

I froze at the break in the deafening silence, so brutal, so harsh.

“What?” I asked. I was so angry at myself for the meekness of my voice.

Where was the Avery who spoke with confidence, with power?

She had been left in the kitchen at Inferno, in cinders.

“No way are you taking these dishes,” he continued, not looking up from the crib. He was fiddling with a detail that I couldn’t see.

“It’s late, go and get ready for bed,” he said, still not looking up. “I’ll finish this, take care of the dishes then meet you in bed.”

My heart faltered then beat what seemed like a million times faster than before.

He’ll meet me. In bed. In my bedroom.

Even though he’d shown nothing but disdain for me. Even though I could feel in my bones that he hated me.

I was frozen in place.

“You need anything?” he asked. “From downstairs? Water. Tea. More to eat. Vitamins?”

“Vitamins?” I parroted.

“Prenatal vitamins. You need to be taking them.”

My hackles went up. “I am taking them.”

He’d said a lot of painful, hurtful things tonight. Most of it I deserved. But the insinuation that I somehow wasn’t taking care of my baby… that I couldn’t take.

His chin tilted as he regarded me.

“Okay,” he said after a beat. “Water? Saltines or whatever the fuck to have by your bed in case you get nauseous?”

The tenderness of the offers were in complete juxtaposition of his overall demeanor, yet I felt softened by them, nonetheless.

“I don’t get nauseous anymore,” I told him. “First trimester, yes. I could only stomach mashed potatoes, on a good day. Second trimester I was able to add in some other things. I occasionally have an off day here and there, but now it’s just radiating heartburn, restless leg syndrome, insomnia and migraines,” I joked.

Kane didn’t smile, though I didn’t entirely expect him to.

“That shit isn’t normal.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Suffering like that.”

I laughed, surprising myself. “I’m no expert, but I think that yes, suffering is a normal part of pregnancy and a preparation for motherhood.”

Kane studied me for a long moment, too long. Looking at me without rage for the first time since he arrived.

“Water, tea,” he eventually stated. “Go get ready for bed.”

I pursed my lips, part of me wanting to argue just to get back on steady ground, just to even out the power balance.

But I kept my mouth shut. I imprinted Kane standing in the middle of my nursery in my memory, just in case he disappeared, then I turned and went to get ready for bed.

KANE

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