Sam was thoroughly unimpressed with the fact that I randomly crawl in bed with PJ when I really can't sleep, frustrated and angry that I didn't visit him, at least or even Caleb.
This isn't your place to-
I was right there! I'm right here. His hands are underneath my t-shirt, pajama pants low over my hipbones. He is dark and bothered and flustered and it's late and we have to get up early for church. I try to push him away so he pushes me down, turns me over onto my face and pulls everything off, breath hot against the back of my head, words gone. He puts his hand over my mouth, pulling my head up against his chest as he finds his way into me, pinning me against him, his word against mine. He's rough, it's dark and cool and I fight him only because I hate it when we're like this. I like him soft and gentle, more like the Sam I know and love, less like the monster who comes out when his needs overtake his good sense.
He never does turn me back over, never takes me with him, never makes sure I'm okay, he just slows back to an agonizing crawl, presses his face painfully against the back of my skull as he whispers I'm sorry and he's gone because Lochlan told him to go.
I went to first service this morning, walked right past him to crank the heat on the thermostat on the wall by the hall door and sat down in the front row. I left enough space and PJ came in a few minutes later, a tray of coffees in hand, holding one out for Sam, an offering in already-established peace time, made the way he likes it. He took it and PJ clapped him on the shoulder. Not a Hey Bro clap but an I was here first, don't forget that clap. Sam nods and takes a sip, burning his tongue the way he burned my resolve last night.
We're three days away and it's all going to shit now. What the fuck is this.
***
What I didn't tell you was that Sam thanked PJ publically for the coffee and then reminded the whole congregation that one small gesture can sometimes do worlds toward beginning to repair the damage caused by colossal, deliberate mistakes. That you can take something that belongs to someone else and finally begin to repay them. That you don't have to share everything, and you shouldn't take what doesn't belong to you.
Which is rich considering Sam isn't exactly my husband either. I think at one point Lochlan laughed out loud, as he has the right to be annoyed where no one else does, for Sam's jealousy and then his selfishness and violence. And PJ had enough of the whole thing finally and when Sam handed him the collection plate he fucking flipped it and left, yelling Thanks for the coffee?That's what you say?
He didn't look back, I didn't look behind our pew and Lochlan scooped up the few envelopes that fell when PJ lost it, putting them back in the plate and passing it on. I think PJ is banned now, but he won't care. He does care about Sam's misappropriated anger but he also only answers to me.
On the way out Lochlan shook Sam's hand at the doorway (having come in behind PJ and yes he's here and home and aware) and told Sam to fucking cool it. In front of people. Sam let go and moved right along to the next people out the door, wishing them a great week, not even missing a beat. I watched as the red flush of embarrassment flooded from underneath his collar and up his neck onto his cheeks but he didn't look at me again. He's not like this, he doesn't become uncharacteristically jealous and absolutely nobody picks a fight with PJ (and lives to tell about it) so I will go see him later and find out what's happening. Maybe he'll apologize for it. Maybe he'll stand his ground. Should be interesting, anyway. I will be sure to thank him for the incredible distraction from the ghosts.
This isn't your place to-
I was right there! I'm right here. His hands are underneath my t-shirt, pajama pants low over my hipbones. He is dark and bothered and flustered and it's late and we have to get up early for church. I try to push him away so he pushes me down, turns me over onto my face and pulls everything off, breath hot against the back of my head, words gone. He puts his hand over my mouth, pulling my head up against his chest as he finds his way into me, pinning me against him, his word against mine. He's rough, it's dark and cool and I fight him only because I hate it when we're like this. I like him soft and gentle, more like the Sam I know and love, less like the monster who comes out when his needs overtake his good sense.
He never does turn me back over, never takes me with him, never makes sure I'm okay, he just slows back to an agonizing crawl, presses his face painfully against the back of my skull as he whispers I'm sorry and he's gone because Lochlan told him to go.
I went to first service this morning, walked right past him to crank the heat on the thermostat on the wall by the hall door and sat down in the front row. I left enough space and PJ came in a few minutes later, a tray of coffees in hand, holding one out for Sam, an offering in already-established peace time, made the way he likes it. He took it and PJ clapped him on the shoulder. Not a Hey Bro clap but an I was here first, don't forget that clap. Sam nods and takes a sip, burning his tongue the way he burned my resolve last night.
We're three days away and it's all going to shit now. What the fuck is this.
***
What I didn't tell you was that Sam thanked PJ publically for the coffee and then reminded the whole congregation that one small gesture can sometimes do worlds toward beginning to repair the damage caused by colossal, deliberate mistakes. That you can take something that belongs to someone else and finally begin to repay them. That you don't have to share everything, and you shouldn't take what doesn't belong to you.
Which is rich considering Sam isn't exactly my husband either. I think at one point Lochlan laughed out loud, as he has the right to be annoyed where no one else does, for Sam's jealousy and then his selfishness and violence. And PJ had enough of the whole thing finally and when Sam handed him the collection plate he fucking flipped it and left, yelling Thanks for the coffee?That's what you say?
He didn't look back, I didn't look behind our pew and Lochlan scooped up the few envelopes that fell when PJ lost it, putting them back in the plate and passing it on. I think PJ is banned now, but he won't care. He does care about Sam's misappropriated anger but he also only answers to me.
On the way out Lochlan shook Sam's hand at the doorway (having come in behind PJ and yes he's here and home and aware) and told Sam to fucking cool it. In front of people. Sam let go and moved right along to the next people out the door, wishing them a great week, not even missing a beat. I watched as the red flush of embarrassment flooded from underneath his collar and up his neck onto his cheeks but he didn't look at me again. He's not like this, he doesn't become uncharacteristically jealous and absolutely nobody picks a fight with PJ (and lives to tell about it) so I will go see him later and find out what's happening. Maybe he'll apologize for it. Maybe he'll stand his ground. Should be interesting, anyway. I will be sure to thank him for the incredible distraction from the ghosts.