Page 6 of New Growth
I stared at him.
“Johnathan, I don’t need milk. I need help.” I ran a hand through my tangled hair, barely holding back my frustration. “Ryan has been snapping at me all damn day until she finally stormed off. God knows where Ma is. Dinner is in an hour, and I still have to bake the pumpkin pie.”
Johnathan stepped closer, his voice low and smooth. “Shhh. You just need a little break.”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t, Johnathan. I need help. Please—can you help me?”
He exhaled like I was missing the point entirely.
“Iamhelping you.” His hand slid to my lower back, rubbing slow, familiar circles—the same way he did when he wanted to have sex with me.
I stiffened. “I’m busy, Johnathan.”
His fingers pressed a little firmer. “Elliot. I’ll be your husband in a few months. You have to listen when I speak. You understand that, right?”
I turned back to the counter, gripping the bowl a little too tightly as I poured the pie filling into the crust. “Of course, I do. But I’m in the middle of cooking for my father’s remembrance dinner. I’m under a lot of pressure right now, and—”
He cut me off. “So you’re not gonna come upstairs with me?”
I exhaled slowly. “I can’t.”
Johnathan clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Tsk. Unbelievable.”
Without another word, he turned and walked off. I already knew what that meant—he’d sulk for the rest of the night, making sure I felt the weight of his disappointment in me for not fulfilling my ‘relationship obligations,’ as he called it.
I stared down at the pie, my stomach knotting.
“Okay,” I muttered, caving in before I could stop myself.
His footsteps paused.
With a shaky breath, I turned to face him. “I can spare five minutes.”
Johnathan turned and walked over to me, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I need ten.”
Before I could argue, he took my wrist, leading me upstairs without waiting for my reply. I spaced out from most of it, opting to stare atthe handmade clock on the bathroom wall as he thrusted into me with groans and huffs until he was satisfied.
We ended up needing only three minutes.
“Has everyone gotten a place setting?” I called over the chaos of grown adults shouting over one another. The noise was suffocating, and I could see now why Daddy always preferred his space.
Ryan scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “Girl, sit down. Ain’t nobody listening to you.”
Johnathan smirked, swirling the wine in his glass. “Exactly. I told her she’s doing too much.”
Ryan grinned. “Extra Elliot.”
They both laughed at my coined nickname between them, feeding off each other like they always did. I sank into my chair beside Johnathan, my mood souring.
He nudged me. “Don’t make that face, Ellie. We’re only playing.”
I didn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”
Ryan groaned.
“Oh my God, you’re so annoying.” She rolled her eyes, pushing her plate of mixed greens away like she’d lost her appetite. “You act like you’re the only one who’s sad, moping around, pretending to be busy instead of actually celebrating Daddy’s life like he wanted. Like, damn, girl, he’s my daddy too, but you don’t see me walking around like some heartbroken dog.”
Her words hit hard, but I kept my expression neutral. Instead of responding, I picked up my wine glass and exhaled deeply. She was grieving in her own way, I reminded myself. This was how she coped.
