Chapter 16 THEO
THEO
I lay in bed reeling, listening to Alex’s breathing even out and focusing on a long, thin crack in the plaster on the ceiling.
I’ll add that to the endless list of things I need to fix.
I have no idea why this isn’t going the way it should. She keeps misinterpreting everything I do and acting like she can’t feel how connected we are. Maybe she can’t feel it, or maybe she can, and she’s just lying to herself. She seems to be really good at that.
This is so different than I thought it was going to be.
I turn to my side and pull her into my arms slowly, slipping an arm under her pillow and curling my body around hers.
She relaxes out of the tight ball she sleeps in and pushes back into me, and I breathe a sigh of relief into her hair.
She can’t lie to herself when she’s asleep, at least. I kiss her shoulder softly and hold her a little tighter, syncing my breath to hers to help calm myself down.
I might have overestimated how well I got to know her, because she’s so different than I thought she was.
She’s guarded and seemingly incapable of opening up, and sensitive in a way I didn’t expect.
She’s kind of an alcoholic. She’s got such insane trust issues that she thinks I’m going to kill her.
She barely seems to understand affection, and keeps flinching any time I touch her, unless we’re having sex.
I know it’s not about me, but it’s hurtful, not to mention concerning.
I definitely underestimated what a liar she is.
I know Alex was lying through her fucking teeth about the rape thing, but she seemed insistent about it, almost like she needed to believe that’s what happened.
I get that she’s into that, but I didn’t like it.
I’m still slightly worried we’re not on the same page, so that shit’s off the table until she can communicate better.
I think sex is entirely off the table for the time being.
I know she loves the sex, but that doesn’t matter anymore.
I think I underestimated how bad her marriage was, so I think we shouldn’t have any sex she doesn’t initiate.
Her motivations for initiating might be complicated to figure out, so probably not until she’s begging for it.
That’s going to suck, but I want her to know that this is a good relationship and that she can trust me.
Alex rolls over in my arms, and I roll to my back, pulling her close. She slings one of her arms across my chest and makes a low, content sound, and I feel the hum of our connection radiating through me.
I know I’m right about us. I didn’t expect I’d have to work so hard to get her to see it, but that’s fine. This is an adjustment period.
I have to adjust, too.
***
I give Alex a day to herself. She acts fine when other people are around, but the second she’s alone, she seems scattered, and she’s so exhausted that she leaves her fitness class early. No matter how much I text her, she won’t even look at her phone.
She goes to trivia with her friends, and I watch her from the bar across the street as she drinks too much on an empty stomach. I follow her home, horrified that she’s walking home alone at night while fucking drunk.
Does she have a death wish?
Wednesday starts the same, and I can’t stand it. I catch her on her walk home from work, falling in step with her after a few blocks. Her face falls the second she sees me, and my heart sinks.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, keeping my tone light and pretending like nothing’s wrong as I steer her in the direction of my house. “How was your day?”
“It was going well.”
“Uh, how was Pilates?” I know she didn’t go, and she knows that I know that.
She shrugs. “It was fine.”
“Sure. What do you want for dinner?”
“Does it matter?” she snaps. “You’re dieting me, so you fucking choose.” I stop short and stare at her incredulously, but she keeps walking.
“Hang on,” I call out, catching up to her quickly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She barks out a sharp, bitter laugh as we walk up my driveway.
“I’m not stupid, Theo. I looked at the food you made me.
You obviously did the math on what I roughly burn in a day, and if I eat all the food you’re making in the portions you’re serving, the calories are pretty close to maintenance.
I assume you’ll start lowering them slowly until I’m in enough of a deficit to start losing weight.
” She shrugs, and I stare at her, appalled.
I did not think she’d notice that I did the math, but I only did it to make sure she’s eating enough.
She hasn’t eaten almost anything in the last week, and I’m worried about her.
One of us has to be.
“I’m concerned about your eating, maybe, but I’m not fucking dieting you.” She snorts as I usher her into the house, shooting me a dirty look.
“Thanks for the concern, mom, but I’m going to eat whatever I want to.”
“That would mean you’d need to eat, Alex. Coffee is not a meal.”
“If you’re not dieting me, then why do you keep cooking for me? Is it a weird sex thing?” I shrug, keeping my face neutral to hide my shock. Did her husband seriously never cook her dinner?
“I like to cook. That’s it.” She eyes me suspiciously as I herd her into the kitchen.
“So, you don’t care what I eat?”
I grimace. “Not really, but I’d prefer you eat a home-cooked meal with actual nutrients in it.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “So, you just want to cook for me all the time because you like cooking?”
“Yeah.”
She crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “And you expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth,” I say, trying to smile at her. We stare at each other for a long second, her eyes narrowing at me slightly.
“Fine. I want cheesecake for dinner.”
“That’s a dessert.” She raises her eyebrows, and it takes me a second to realize this is a test. I shrug and open the fridge, looking through what I have.
She’s being so combative. I know she’s adjusting poorly, but does she have a temper in general?
I can’t imagine her having a temper, but I’m realizing that there’s a lot I don’t know about her.
I close the fridge and start herding her towards the entryway.
“We’re leaving.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have cream cheese.” She gives me a weird look, like she wasn’t expecting me to do what she wanted.
***
I take her to the co-op and grab graham crackers, cream cheese, raspberries, and whatever else I need, but I get sidetracked by lamb shanks.
“Sweetheart, do you like osso buco?” She shrugs, so I buy the ingredients anyway. I try to keep from asking the next question, but I can’t help it. “Why would you think I’m dieting you?” I ask in a quiet voice.
“You think we’re in a relationship, right?” I stare at her, confused.
“We are in a relationship, but so what?” She blinks back at me, also seemingly confused.
“So, you think that means you get to tell me what I should weigh and how I should look.” I stare at her, reeling. “I’m not doing that again, so you might as well just kill me now.” A woman passing down the aisle eyes Alex with concern.
“I’m not going to kill you. You do realize that’s not normal, right?”
“What?”
“What you’re saying. That’s insane, not to mention fucking abusive.” She raises her eyebrows at me in surprise. “That’s not what’s happening here.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone is still skeptical.
“I mean it when I say I just like to cook, and I don’t care what you look like. I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous, but I think you’d be gorgeous no matter what.”
She scoffs. “Yeah, right.”
I wince slightly. What the fuck was her marriage like?
***
Alex frowns while she watches me cook, seeming shocked when I make the cheesecake she asked for.
She eats half a slice of it slowly, looking at me like I’m insane when I ask her what she likes to eat so I can start meal planning for us.
She gives noncommittal answers and makes another shitty comment about me dieting her, but that’s fine.
I’ll figure it out. I can adjust the food I make and how I portion it, so she doesn’t feel like she’s being scrutinized or dieted.
I refuse to adjust to the fact that Alex does not seem to like me or trust me at all, because I know this fucking works.
It will, anyway, once she stops fighting it.
She seems confused when I make us tea and put on Sleepless in Seattle.
I know she likes it, so I thought it would make her comfortable to see that I like it.
I don’t, actually, but I act like I do. Alex relaxes enough to start joking about the movie, and she tells me halfway through that it’s her least favorite Nora Ephron film, and that she sort of hates it.
I relax a little. She’s opening up to me, and we’re more similar than I thought. This is working.
She’s very confused when I don’t initiate sex.
I can’t help that it’s obvious how much I want her, but I ignore it and hold her in my arms, focusing on syncing my breath to hers.
It takes her a long time to relax, but once she falls asleep, she melts into me the way she only does when she’s sleeping.
The next morning, I greet her with a kiss, ignoring that goddamn fucking flinch of hers.
She keeps giving me these wary looks over breakfast, but she eats most of the omelette I make her.
When I drop her off at work, I’m sweet to her and pretend everything is fine before I go home and do everything in my power to keep my shit together.
I just need to focus on the small list of things that are working rather than the laundry list of things I have to fix.
My phone chimes, and I almost drop it when I see the texts from Alex.
Alex, 1:15 PM:
I liked the omelette
I like osso buco
I hate turnips
please don’t make food a sex thing
Theo, 1:16 PM
No turnip butt plugs, then?
freak
I grin down at my phone, feeling lighter. We’re joking around. This is finally going in the right direction, and I just need to keep working for it.
I didn’t realize it would be so much goddamn work, but I know the extent of her trust issues now, and I know I need to work a lot harder to earn her trust. I’ll do whatever it takes, because Alex is worth it.
She’s mine whether she likes it or not, but I want her to like it.