Page 55 of Perfect
“Does it matter?” she snaps. “You’redieting me, soyoufucking 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’reserving, 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 didnotthink 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 fuckingdietingyou.” 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 toeat, 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.
“Wearein 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’mnotgoing to kill you. You do realize that’s not normal, right?”
“What?”
“What you’re saying. That’sinsane,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.
