Page 56 of Homestead

Maybe he assumes I am.

Maybe it’s me who’s wrong.

None of these circular thoughts provide me resolution or peace. I’m spinning desperately all evening, searching for any sign of softening from him and finding exactly none.

All in all, it’s not a good evening. I read on the couch after dinner while Jimmy cleans his guns and sharpens his knives. When he stands up and rubs his hands through his hair, I know he’s ready for bed.

I close my book and head to the outhouse while Jimmy stands in the doorway with his shotgun.

While he goes to the bathroom and locks up, I get ready for bed and climb in to wait for him.

He usually gets softer after sex. Maybe we can talk again then. Maybe he’ll actually listen to me.

I’m hopeful as he comes into the room to undress and wash up. When he finally lies down, I move over him like normal, angling low on his body so I can give him a blow job.

He grabs for my shoulders and holds me still. “What the hell, Chloe?”

I freeze, bewildered and hurt yet again. “I was going to?—”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” He stares like I’ve grown a second head. “No fucking way.”

I retreat immediately, shaking as the rejection slices through my chest, the pain flooding the rest of my body. “Oh. I thought…”

I don’t finish the sentence. I can’t.

It doesn’t matter what I thought.

He doesn’t want me to touch him tonight. He’s utterly horrified at the idea.

He must be so angry with me.

I barely manage to choke back a sob as I curl up tightly on my side, facing the wall.

He turns off the lantern, so the room goes dark. It feels like he’s got his head turned in my direction, still watching me.

I don’t like it. He needs to stop.

If he doesn’t want to have sex, he should close his eyes and go to sleep so I can get a little privacy.

So I can cry.

Mentally reviewing what’s happened today, I dissect every word I said to Jimmy.

I still don’t think I did anything that bad. I did raise my voice a little, but I never yelled or screamed. I didn’t burst into tears or throw a fit or act like a child. I tried to understand his perspective and express my own. Yes, I got frustrated, but I’m not sure how anyone in my position could avoid that.

Jimmy, however, took my behavior as some sort of rebellion. Like I was undermining his authority.

He doesn’t want me to assert myself in any way. He doesn’t want me to have a backbone. Disagree with him. Be even a little bit stronger.

He wants me more like I was at the very beginning—scared and anxious and eager to please, trying desperately to predict what he wants and give it to him perfectly.

Our relationship is transactional after all. I knew it from the beginning and have been reminded of it time after time.

He takes care of me, and I make him happy.

He’s not happy right now.

I must have gotten too comfortable. I must have felt too safe and secure. Not only regarding outside threats but regarding my place here in his house.

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