His Dinner.

Soft, heatless curls bounced over my shoulders as I strutted around the kitchen, my apron tied around my waist. He loves this hairstyle. Slow songs played gently through the speaker, and a glass of red wine stayed glued to my hand as I finished up serving his favourite meal, steak, sweet potato fries and mac and cheese.

Sugar plum scented candles burned on the table I had set out for the two of us, filling the room. All lights were dimmed low, creating the perfect mood. All that was left was to get into role. I’ll admit, it had been some time since I’ve done myself up. A natural make up look, almost impossible to notice was the smartest move.

If my calculations and timing were correct, he should be home in approximately five minutes, leaving his meal enough time to cool down for him to eat, and for me rip off this apron and to slip on something more alluring to wear for our evening. ‘Nothing too challenging to strip off’ I kept note to myself, smirking at my

reflection as I did up my silky red dress, revealing my hidden curves and just enough skin. The wine was already exposing the worst in me and yet I poured another glass.

A turn of the key and a slow creak from our door and he was finally home. I listened close by as he freed a heavy sigh and murmurs, kicking his shoes off and throwing his keys down. Slowly, my head poked from around the kitchen frame, my petite body following behind, gaining a full view of my husband. Perplexation struck his face as he went through the post, determining bills from my junk mail and divided them into two piles in each one of his enormous, rough hands.

“Hey.” I smiled, coyly. Five months into our marriage and I still occasionally had to battle with the butterflies erupting in my tummy.

“Oh, hey,” Ryan dimly mumbled, not even giving me a glance.

Patiently I gave him a chance to turn around and notice me and provide his full attention, but instead found myself waiting a lot longer than what I considered was acceptable.                                                                                                             

“Ryan?”

To this, he paused opening the pile of letters he had been holding in his left hand and threw his head over his shoulder in my direction.

“You okay?” He simply asked, stripping off his suit jacket to throw down over our banister.

“Can I get a kiss hello?” I asked, confused that I even had to do so.

A hesitant walk towards me, he bent over to reach my forehead, completely ignoring my lips perched up for his. The sting of rejection hurt as I watched him walk off into the kitchen, making his way to the fridge. Once opened, he observed the contents, then hunted for a bottle of Corona and when found, helped himself to two.

“I made us dinner, or were you planning on spending another night in front of the TV?” I asked, travelling across the kitchen to meet his brown eyes surrounded with bright pink rings as if he had been rubbing them for hours. His curls hung in a curly mess effortless over his forehead, which was unusual for Ryan, being how he was passionate in keeping up with his appearance, even more so than me.

“I’m not actually hungry, sorry Claire.” He said, disconnecting our contact by looking away from my face.

“Sorry Claire? Ryan, I’ve just spent half the day cooking your favourite dinner. The least you can do is eat it.”

A loud exhale escaped from his mouth; way louder than I had even been talking. Using a finger and thumb to rub his eyelids, he took a second to gather his thoughts before talking.

“Can we save it for tomorrow? I just got back from work, Claire.”

“Exactly. Shouldn’t you have your dinner? Surely you must be hungry.”

He tried his hardest to find another reason as to why he couldn’t enjoy the meal I had prepared for him.

“I’ve already eaten,” He said, presenting a dull expression to me.

“Eaten what? When? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” He rhetorically asked, kissing his teeth at me before going off to open the caps off his bottles. I stood by and watched as he aimed the caps for the bin, missing, and chuckled it off without going to go pick them up. It did nothing but irritate me. As well as cooking and getting dressed up for him, I also made sure the house was cleaned.

“What is up with you? You have never acted like this before. Ryan, you haven’t acknowledged the effort I have put in tonight.”

“It’s just a bit of dinner! Don’t be an actress, Claire. Put it in the fridge and save it for tomorrow!” His voice raised, taking a huge swig from his drink.  

“What?” He spat, his face screwing as he looked me up and down.

My head shook in disbelief. I was appalled with his behaviour and horrible attitude towards me. It was never like this before we got married. We were inseparable. Best friends, spending every minute of every day together. The trips we took around Europe, and all the conversations we’ve had about pending holidays we wanted to go on. Even plans to have kids were discussed before we moved into our apartment we saved up for. He had been apart of my life from the age of sixteen to twenty-six, and never has Ryan ever treated me like he didn’t want me. Now that we were married and still newlyweds, it was probably the worst feeling ever.

“You yourself have been drinking but it’s a crime when I have one?” He argued after taking two more mouthfuls from his beer.

“It’s not a crime to have a drink, but you are having two when I have done all of this for us!” I argued back.

“It’s a dinner, Claire. We can eat anytime! Either watch the TV with me or just eat the food!” He shot.

“Ryan, you haven’t even noticed my new hair or the dress I put on for you. All I asked was for you to eat the food and spend a little time with me.”

“I’ve already told you I’ve eaten. Now I just want to watch some football and have a drink, why is that such an issue with you?”

At this point we were only going back and forth with no end in sight. He used every opportunity to take swigs from his beverage and it wasn’t helping the situation at all.

“Hunny, I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just feel a little unappreciated. We’re still newlyweds!” I spoke delicately, taking hold of his free hand within mine.

“We shouldn’t be acting like this only a few months in.”

No matter what I said, he dismissed it all by dramatically huffing and puffing and rolling his eyes, I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.

“I just want to watch the TV!” He barked, snatching his hand back from my hold.

“Then what is it? What is the issue? Did something happen at work?” I asked, irritated.

“I’ve already told you-”

“But I don’t believe you. Do you really think you could hide anything from me? We’ve known each other from sixteen, Ryan.”

His eyes rolled again. He had already made it though one bottle and was now onto the next.

“So, is it another girl? Is that what it is?” I questioned him, holding firmly back the tears.

“Don’t be so stupid, Claire. Do I look like a cheater to you? When exactly would I have time to be sleeping with another girl?”

“The same time aren’t sleeping with me!” I cried, looking right into his eyes.

“You don’t even touch me.” My voice broke. “Do you want me anymore?”

His eyes were hanging low, yet I still noticed him holding back his tears. He didn’t respond with a yes or a no, but no answer was the answer in this situation.  It was clear the beer was affecting him and although Ryan has never really been a drinker, way too little had been consumed for him to be acting so disrespectfully towards me. I wasn’t stupid, I knew exactly what he had been doing.

“Where is it?” My eyes darted to each of his and before even waiting for a response, I patted down his legs where his pockets hung as he slightly resisted. That’s when it hit me.

 Sprinting out in my wedges to his suit jacket, I fished through his pocket and found a flask. I was right. He had been drinking. I retrieved his flask, holding it out in front of him to show him what I had found, like a kid with treasure.

“You don’t drink, Ryan. Tell me why you’ve been bringing this to work.” I growled, growing even more impatient with him.

“Seriously, what is with all these questions? There is literally a half empty bottle of wine on the counter and you’re jumping down my throat over a flask!”

“Yes! Because you are not a drinker! You’re drinking at work and drink driving! What are you, some sort of deviant? It’s irresponsible! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

A dark chuckle not even I’ve heard before grew louder from out his mouth. He threw his head back, grinning wide behind his hand as he wiped the corners of his lips. Another take from his drink until it was finished was done before he answered.

“Maybe, at least that way I could be Clarence.”

I observed him, placing down his almost empty flask beside my bottle of wine. Music still played gently, but I turned it off, setting the mood straight. I blew out any candles that were still lit, trying to gain composure in the process while I ignored him for a second or two. He had finished his second bottle by now, and still served himself another.

I stretched out my arms, placing them on either side of his shoulders.

“Talk to me.” I whispered, removing the bottle away from his chapped lips.

“Explain the flask.”

He shook his head at me, his bottom lip wavering slightly.

“You aren’t the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing about you is the same.” He spoke, with special effort to not look at me.  

“What do you mean? I’m literally wearing the same dress you brought for how many years ago. It still fits! This is literally the same hairstyle I always get because you like it.”

“This has nothing to do with your appearance and you know it. You know why I’m drink so much. You know exactly why I haven’t been intimate with you. I have to come home to you everyday and look at you and I wonder what happened to you. I have to cope knowing what my wife has done and you don’t even seem fazed! It never seems to bother you!”

I didn’t say a word. I listened to what he had to say to me.

“How do you act so normal? How do you act so normal, Claire?!” He shouted, creeping closer down to my face, as if he believed I couldn’t hear him.

“How else am I supposed to act? Like a murderer?!” I shouted back.

His hand clenched together into a tight ball. Holding back his tears was now an impossible mission and I watched them slowly stream down his face, however it didn’t stop his eyes gazing at his third bottle.

Stretching past me, his tall, build body overpowered me as he stood directly in front of me, reaching out to retrieve the beer but before I could allow him to do so, I pushed him.

Irritation reflected from his eyes, growing more and more impatient with me. The alcohol was responsible for this all. Ryan wasn’t an angry man at all, he wouldn’t harm a fly. Even so, I stood my ground.

“We put that behind us.” My eyes flicked up at him.

“Clearly you have, so sorry if I’m not there yet with you.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I did what I had to for us, you know that.”

His beautiful face, now red and pink in different areas now crumpled up with a look of disgust. Is that how he perceived me? Disgusting?

“It was an accident.”

“You killed him, Claire!” His voice raised, trembling so much he threw his drink to the ground, shattering it into millions of pieces.

He ran his fingers through his hair trying to calm down once he noticed his little performance didn’t at all take me by surprise. He was right, I was evidently able to keep things together a lot better than he ever had been. Closing my eyes or keeping them opened didn’t seem to matter, locked memories I’d done well shutting away were slowing creaking open, revealing little flashbacks that floated around my mind to the sounds of Ryan’s heavy breathing. The cries of agony deafening my ears, the stench from the thick red blood covering my fingers and my clothes…Maybe he had the right idea in drinking and so I poured myself another glass, finishing it with no problems as he watched.

“We said we wouldn’t bring this up again, Ryan. We’re in this together, for better or worse.”

“That wine definitely reached your head quick if you think that’s acceptable. Don’t quote your vows to me. Not for this!”

“No, I will! For better or worse, I did what I had to do for us! I did what I did for you. He was attacking you!”

“Clarence was mentally unstable! He didn’t deserve it.” He barked, standing so close to me I was forced to look up to meet his eyes.

“Does that mean I should’ve sat back and watched your mentally unstable brother kill you, two days before we could even say ‘I do’ over a silly little argument?”

I knew what I was saying was making complete sense. He knew I was correct and had nothing more he could say.

“He didn’t deserve it.”

“Ok. Then go dig up him up. Go dig up his body from our back garden and turn me in, Ryan. But you better prepare yourself to follow right behind because if I go down, you’re coming with me. How’s that for better or worse.”

I outstared him. The anger burning within him was so apparent. I poured myself another and followed the same pattern I had done with all my previous drinks. Not once did he take his eyes off me. If only he had fed me that sort of attention when he came home and just ate his food, then none of this would’ve happened at all.

“Have you calmed down?” I asked after swallowing the last drop from my glass.

Finally, he looked away.

“Ryan, he was attacking you! Punching you right in your face for putting him an institute where he belonged. He could’ve completely ruined our wedding pictures, but I bet you didn’t even consider that! I had to do what I thought was best, and the wine bottle was the closest thing available. I didn’t intend for what happen to happen. But it did. Don’t forget you helped in covering it up. There’s nothing more we can do but move on with our lives.”

He continued to bite down on his thumb nail, his head to the floor, not responding.  For once he was staying quiet.

I sighed, tucking a curl behind my ear.

“You know I love you.”

His eyes darted up at me, then quickly back to the ground.

“I love you too.”

I smiled, taking a mouthful straight from the bottle.

“Good. Now, come eat your dinner.”