Page 77 of Bartholomew
“I know, love,” I commiserated, rounding the desk, and crouching down beside her chair. I needed to be face to face with her, to soothe and comfort her. “But we still have tonight.”
“We still have tonight,” she agreed with a soft sigh.
“Listen, I know that tonight is the last night of our trial period, but could we table the conversation? Tonight, I just want to be with you. Just us.” My eyes searched hers, hoping that my words caused no amount of rejection for her. In reality, it was the furthest thing from the truth. I wasn’t ready to let her go. I needed to see where this would lead, what it could look like. But I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not yet.
“What if we just continued the trial period? At least until we get through the crazy transition back to life in Zion. We can table the conversation until things are a little less hectic and just carry on until the time when we are ready to really talk about it,” she suggested. I could have kissed her. It was a perfect solution; one I should have come up with.
“I think that sounds perfect. Now, how about my little firefly heads to the bedroom and Daddy will see just how loudly she can scream for the rest of the day? We’ll call it a celebration of the end of our honeymoon,” I teased, waggling my eyebrows at her. My hands traveled down the curve of her spine, quickly slapping her curvaceous ass. “Mmm, I do love that jiggle.”
She giggled and, taking her hand, I led her out of the living room.
Knock, knock!
We hadn’t even made it halfway down the hall when the rapping noise came from the front door. Turning to one another, we shared a look. A look that said we both felt the instant onslaught of dread at that sound. Our carefully persevered bubble was about to burst, and we both knew it. We knew it, even though my father had said tomorrow, that was not going to be the case.
I pulled her to me, ignoring the knocking on the front door as my lips found hers, stealing her breath with a kiss that spoke of everything I felt for her. Of longing and of passion, of laughter and of happy moments we had shared. One last kiss before the chaos would ensue.
Hand in hand, we made our way to the front door and opened it.
To a full crowd of people.
Half a dozen Elder couples, all of Delilah’s family — in-laws included, all flooded into our home without so much as a hello.
Time to face the beast.
* * *
“Bartholomew, we look forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning for our Elder’s meeting!” Elder Shepherd congratulated me, regurgitating the same words each and every penis-owning person in this house had uttered over the last two hours.
“Indeed, Son,” Elder Christian, Delilah’s father, agreed, clapping me on the back with a smile. I wanted nothing more than to smack that smile right off his damned face. “By the way,” he broached, squeezing a hand on my shoulder. “I wanted to talk to about when we should expect Delilah to come over to resume her duties at our house.”
That fucker.
“Whatever do you mean, Elder Christian?” I replied, playing the fool.
“Well, we agreed that she would resume helping her mother and I with the house after your honeymoon period was concluded–which it now has. So, we were thinking sometime tomorrow would work well for us. What say you, Son?” The pompous asshole had balls the size of cannons.
“I’m confused, Elder Christian. Who agreed to this, exactly?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Well, Delilah, her mother, and I, of course,” he chuckled. There were a lot of ways I could have handled the situation. I wanted to punch him in the face. Instead, I leveled him with a stare.
“Surely, you understand that as Delilah’s husband, it is my job to determine what her duties will and will not be,” I began.
“Well, of course, but–”
“I wasn’t finished.” That shut the fucker up. “Delilah’s role in this world is no longer that of your daughter. She is my wife and her focus is only on our home. Should you need something, you will ask me. As the head of my household, any requests will go through me, and let me be clear. Delilah will not be using her time to clean your home. You and your wife will see to it in whatever way you wish, but you will not use my wife as a housekeeper. Understood?” I watched as the man audibly gulped, the lump in his throat visible as he took in my stance. I wasn’t about to take his shit. He may have an over-inflated ego from sucking all that sky-daddy loving Elder dick, but he was no match for me. And he would no longer abuse my wife in such a way. Over my cold, dead body. I’d see him in hell first.
He nodded, before scurrying back to his wife, obviously to talk some shit. I didn’t give a fuck. I turned back to my father, who looked at me with pride. Great. One dick-sucker controlled, and another one to deal with. I didn’t want Father’s pride. I wanted his absence.
“Good job, Son. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Father walked off in search of someone else to pester, leaving me a split second to take a damn breath. It had been made abundantly clear that while Father had told me I was to report to the church in two days’ time, there was an Elder meeting tomorrow that I “just could not miss”. Whatever that meant. So, instead of calling, it was unanimously decided that the entire flock of Elder sheep would just crash the last day of our honeymoon. Not like we would be doing anything anyway, right?
I tried to curb my internal sarcastic vitriol, knowing that if I could not quell it mentally, it would spew forth from my lips like a prophet speaking in tongues. It was hard enough to keep the hatred from showing on my face.
I turned to see Delilah; face flushed from bustling around in the dining room. She held a tray of food in her hand and, based on the grin on her face, had just overheard most, if not all, of that conversation. The look she gave me was one of pure gratitude and awe. She set the tray of food down, grasped my hand in hers, and pulled me down the hallway and into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.
“Ollie.” Her voice was half thanks and half plea. This day was a shit show. For both of us.
“I know, I know,” I agreed with her unspoken sentiment. I ran a hand roughly through my hair in abject frustration. “Levi had said this day would be difficult, but fucking Christ on a holy goddamn cracker, it’s like living in the actual seven circles of hell all at once. Deep breaths, though, love. We’ll get through this.”
