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“Andrew’s the last thing to get between us, Michael! If anything, he’s encouraging me to stay with you, to work out our differences.”
“Our differences? What differences? We didn’t have any problems until he showed up.”
I scoffed. “Michael, the fact that you just tried to forbid me to hang out with him shows just how many differences we do have.” I started picking at my fingers. “I will not be commanded like one of your employees. We are partners in this relationship.”
“Don’t pick at your fingers, babe.”
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO FUCKIN’ DO, MICHAEL.”
He stopped pacing and frowned. “Alicia—”
I held up a hand. “And no, I will not watch my language or my tone. I’m angry, Michael, and I’m anxious. My father is in the hospital, in pretty bad shape. This is what anxiety looks like.”
He let out a slow breath. “We should take a break from this for the night, clear our heads. I’ll cook, we’ll open a bottle of wine, and we’ll just hang out.”
I bit my lip as I mulled it over. That does sound pretty good.
But you know what will happen if you do that. You’ll cave. You’ll continue to strive to be the good, little wife who doesn’t make waves and doesn’t stand up for herself. And you can’t be that anymore.
Finally, I shook my head. “I think I need to be alone tonight, Michael,” I said quietly. I looked down at my fingers. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other for the next couple of days.”
“Alicia, that’s an overreaction. Everything will be fine by morning.”
“I don’t think it will.” I looked up at him. “We’ve been married less than a week and already, you’re trying to get me to hang out with my friends less. I’m already losing my temper with you. That’s a warning sign, don’t you think?”
“Alicia—”
“I want to be alone tonight, Michael. I will call you when I’m ready.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine.” He picked up his bag. “Call me when you’re ready.”
He slammed the door on his way out.
I knew Michael for about two months before he started telling me how to think, dress, and act. The first time he started in on me was a rainy Wednesday morning. I had donned my long, black raincoat, black rain boots, and burgundy-colored dress. I did a once-over in the mirror, satisfied with the way the outfit came together. I gave myself a little nod and picked up my umbrella.
“Babe, are you sure you want to wear that?”
I stopped short of opening the door and turned to him. “What?”
“It’s a lot of black.” He frowned as he examined my outfit. “You should wear brighter colors. It’s happier, and all the girls I see wear them.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m the assistant manager at a clothing store, so I’m kind of the authority on these things.”
I looked down at my outfit, now unsure where I was once confident. “It’s that bad?” I picked at my cuticles. “Shit.”
He put his hands over mine, frowning deeper. “And the language, babe. What’s up with that?” He uncovered my hands, examining my fingers. “Whoa, we need to get you a manicure.”
I blinked at my hands and then up at him. “Is it that bad?”
Michael grimaced.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“That’s okay, babe, I’ll take care of you,” he said. He brought his arm around my shoulders and squeezed a little too tightly. I grimaced. “No need to worry about it ever again.”
“He did what?” Though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell there was a fire igniting in Cat’s eyes. “He said what?”
“Cat,” I warned. “Don’t make this bigger than it is.”
“Don’t tell me what to do—this is a big, fuckin’ deal, Alicia!” She blew air out of her nose, and I held the phone away from my ear. “Your dad is in the hospital! Did he even address that? Or was it all about hurting his fragile-ass male ego?”
