Page 75 of Perfect
“Whateveryouwant.” In general, I hate eating out because I can’t control how the food is made, but I can’t tell her that. She has her own hang-ups about food, and she still barely fucking eats as is. She’s definitely lost some weight since we started dating, which is concerning because it’s only been a month.
“Honey, what doyouwant?”
“Burgers. Fries. Milkshakes. Some fuckingalone time.” I nod, pulling out my phone. At least she chose something. Something I don’t want to eat, maybe, but something. I hand over my phone and let her scroll through the brewery menu, looking through the menu after her and choosing the least disgusting-looking thing I can find.
I donoteat burgers or hot dogs on anything remotely resembling prison food anymore on fucking principle.
“Um, how was your day?”
“Fine.” She’s almost done with her wine, and she’s been home for ten minutes.
That’s a nice Viognier, I wish she’d take the time to taste it. I also wish she’d address her drinking problem.
We eat dinner in silence, mostly. I try to engage with her, but outside of occasional comments about the game, she’s completely shutting me out. Today’s conversation with Dr. Millsrolls around in the back of my mind, seeming like an idea that’s almost real, but not quite.
Maybe I should go home and look up how to be a better boyfriend to Alex. I don’t want to keep triggering her by accident like I did on Saturday, so I clean up the dishes once the game is over, determined to go home. She wants alone time, which I hate, but I want her to see that I can give her what she wants.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Think about what you want to do on Saturday?”
She looks confused. “You’re leaving?”
“You said you wanted alone time, right?” I think it’s too much to hope that she’ll ask me to stay.
“Yeah?”
“So, I’m going.” I give her a tight smile and kiss her forehead, ignoring how much it hurts that she still flinches. I know it’s not about me, and I’m focusing on the fact that it keeps getting smaller and less pronounced every time I touch her.
We’re getting there, slowly but surely.
She grabs my wrist when I reach for my car keys, and I stop, looking down at her in question. She lets out a long sigh and doesn’t meet my eye as her face flushes a bright pink.
“Come on.” She walks into the bedroom, stripping quickly as she goes. I trail after her apprehensively, leaning in the doorway and considering her. She’s naked, sitting in the center of her small bed, curled in on herself and not looking at me.
I haven’t initiated sex since Saturday, and this is the second time this week Alex has initiated. She seemed embarrassed last time and didn’t want to look at me, or talk to me, or kiss me, insisting on being taken from behind and refusing to be held afterward.
It felt informal and transactional, and I didnotlike it.
“Alex, why do you want to have sex?” She looks embarrassed, flushing a deeper shade of pink and looking away from me. I instantly know the answer, and I fuckinghateit.
“Can you shut up and just fuck me?” I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach, followed by a curl of irritation.
“No. I’m your boyfriend, not your fucking vibrator.” She gets angry immediately, grabbing a pillow to throw at me. She stops herself, making a frustrated sound and throwing it into the wall before she jumps off the bed and gets in my face, shoving her finger in my chest.
“You’re not myboyfriend!You just show up constantly and feed me and fuck me and bother the shit out of me!” I grin down at her.
“Definitelyyour boyfriend,” I tease. She’s not having it, and my smile slides off my face as angry tears well up in her eyes.
“Whatisthis? You won’t leave me alone, you won’t kill me, and now you won’t fuck me again?” She’s getting worked up, pacing the floor, waving her arms around. “What am I to you? A pet? A doll? A fucking object? I’m not property, goddammit, I’m a fuckingperson!At least, Iwasuntil you showed up.” I don’t even know what to say. Is this seriously how she thinks about our relationship? It’s like she doesn’t know me at all, like she’s misinterpreting everything I do on purpose.
“Honey -”
“What is the fuckingpointof this?”
“We’re together, Alex,” I say, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.
“No, we’re fuckingnot!” she shrieks. It’s getting difficult to deal with her when she acts like this. I understand this is just about her ex, but it feels sort of personal. “Can’t you just fucking kill me already? I’m sotiredof this.”
I’m ignoring that one entirely.
