Page 29 of Leviticus
“I understand, Father, but —”
“There is no but here, Leviticus. I raised you better than that. You have an obligation. Not just to your wife, but to your family lineage and to your church. It is imperative that you do all you can to honor God and honor your heritage by bearing children. I gave your mother five sons before the Lord took her ability away. Your wife is already twenty-four years old. You do not have time to waste,” he all but snarled at me. It took everything I had to keep my own tone even-keeled, and even then, I wasn’t sure I was pulling it off.
The sheer anger I felt towards my father was overwhelming, all-consuming at times. My obligation to my wife, that part, made sense. But to our family and to the church? Fuck the lot of them, if you asked me. But I couldn’t just push him off, not right now. Not until we could all safely leave.
“Yes, Father, I understand the importance of bearing males for our lineage, but it’s only been a week. For all we know, she is already with child. Only time will tell and only the Lord shall bestow such a blessing.” My jaw physically hurt with the effort it took to force the words out.
“Then make me proud, son. Give your wife a son and all will be well.”
“Of course, Father. May the Lord Bless the Followers of His Path.” I gripped the phone so tightly as the disgusting words poured out of my mouth I swore I was going to crumble the receiver.
I slammed the phone down onto the base hard enough to almost break it, and still it wasn’t enough. I paced away from the desk, taking hold of the yellow armchair and tossing it forward onto the floor with a roar of frustration. My hands went to my hair, fisting into the strands and pulling just hard enough to cause pain. Fuck, I wanted out of this place and away from these people. More than almost anything else in this world, I wanted to be gone. To be a version of myself I had yet to fully discover.
Just as I tugged at my hair, I heard a small gasp sound from the doorway.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. She was in the hallway. She had heard Lord only knew how much of that conversation. Just what I needed.
“Ruth? Is that you?” I hesitantly called out, unsure of whether or not I actually wanted the answer. I was met with silence for the long tick of a moment before I decided to just step out into the hallway to check.
“Hello, Ruth,” I sighed heavily. “How long have you been standing there?”
She jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of my voice, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She was no stealth person.
“I, um… well…” she barely managed to utter and I turned away from her, making my back into the study in search of a drink. I had not drank around her in any way, shape, or form, but after the combination of my father’s scolding and her spying, I couldn’t help myself any longer.
“Spying isn’t exactly a proper thing for a wife to do,” I pulled two glasses out of my liquor cabinet and began assembling the drinks. I had no idea if she had ever drank before, but now was as good a time as any.
“Neither is throwing things.” Her statement was barely uttered under her breath. I fisted my hands at my sides, wanting nothing more than to put her in her place. Not as a wife of Zion, but as a submissive. But she wasn’t my submissive.
“What was that?” I gritted out
“Oh, nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. You said something, what was it?” I didn’t have the patience for this tonight, for the back and forth.
“Why was your father calling during our honeymoon?” she finally asked. She wasn’t my submissive. She wasn’t my submissive. The words played over in my head like a mantra.
“Don’t pay him any mind. He wants grandchildren, that is all. I assuaged his fears.” I hoped that my explanation would cease her questioning as I finished the drinks. It was a soothing act, preparing them and making them just so. It was a little moment I took for just myself.
“You mean you lied.” The words were out of her mouth without caution or consideration and I did a double take, flipping around to look at her, barely able to keep my jaw off the ground at her sheer audacity.
“I told you,” I hissed. That aching in my jaw was back as I held back all the words I wanted to say. She was not my submissive. She was not my submissive. “I do not lie.”
“Yet, you did.” Her words pushed me, and I felt my fiery response rising within me, matching her intensity. I would not answer it. She was not my submissive, and if I acted as though that were true, I would likely scar her for life.
“I. Do. Not. Lie, Ruth,” I reiterated.
“You did. You told your father that I could very well be pregnant now.” She was a conundrum. Her voice was meek, quiet like it almost always was, but the intent behind her words bounced around the room like someone had yelled.
“You don’t know that. You very well could be,” I pushed. She was making this difficult.
“Ha! That’s impossible,” she scoffed. My hand almost twitched with the desire to throw her over my knee and spank that pert ass for being sassy. She wasn’t my submissive. She wasn’t my submissive.
“No, it’s not. You very well could be. It has been known to happen on a person’s first time,” I tried to explain, assuming that she just didn’t understand. Why was I even engaging in this? I saw the look on her face, the annoyance. I wasn’t expecting that kind of a response, and I definitely wasn’t prepared for the reaction my body had to it.
“Yes, I do know how the female body works to at least that extent. I’m saying that it’s impossible as my monthlies just ended yesterday. If there could have been a baby from our consummation, it is not possible now,” she sighed.
“You think I’m not trying here?” I watched her face, watching for the thousands of tiny expressions I saw on submissive’s faces time and again, trying to read her, trying to gauge where she was. I took a long swig and slammed it down on the table. She wasn’t my submissive.
