Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Without looking up, he motions to the space beside him and I see my plate of food and frown. “Why don’t I get fried mushrooms?”
He looks over his book at me from the end of the table as I take my seat beside him.
“Oh come on, if I don’t get any fat in my system I’m going to lose weight.”
“Fried mushrooms aren’t on the list for a healthy pregnancy.”
“If your concerns were real then nobody would have a healthy pregnancy.” I spy his full plate, sausages, bacon, toast, beans, mushrooms, the whole shebang, but no eggs. Then I stare at mine. “Grilled tomato and brown toast with margarine? You’re kidding me.”
“Eat.” He snaps, his eyes skimming through his book.
I do and it tastes bland and awful. “Has this been cooked with sunflower oil?”
“Organic.”
“Ewww. Can’t I just have a piece of bacon?”
He flips the page, “No.”
“Just a bite?”
“No.”
I let out a growl and so does my stomach, “You’re killing me here.”
He looks at me again, his brows raised like a parent does to a child when they’re being naughty. “Eat Guinevere.”
I have a forkful of my chopped and grilled tomatoes and cringe. He’s looking at his book, he won’t notice if I sneak a mushroom from his plate. They smell too good to resist.
It’s the bacon my heart is set on though, he has four slices. Four.
That’s just greedy. Nobody needs that much bacon.
Very slowly and carefully I slide my hand along the table, using my other one to eat the food I have so it doesn’t look like I’m doing anything suspicious. He can’t see, the book is in the way of his eyesight.
Almost there… smack.
I gasp and pull my hand back, my mouth open in shock. He looks over the top of his glasses at me, his closed book now on the table.
“Did you just hit my hand with your book?” I ask, my shock still evident as I rub the back of my hand with my other one. It didn’t hurt it just shocked me.
“I said no.”
“You just hit my hand with your book,” I say, my voice lower and more dangerous this time. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Are you an animal?” He scowls, his palms flat on the table. “Because only animals steal food from another’s plate.”
“Are you an animal?” I scowl back, repeating his words. “Because only animals hit pregnant women.”
He sighs and rolls his eyes, “So dramatic, it was just your hand.”
“It’s still assault.”
“My food. Don’t touch,” he glares and picks his book back up.
Why do I have this insane feeling that I want to do it again? If he hits me again I swear I’ll hit him back. I’m prepared.
So when he looks back to his book, slowly chewing the food in his mouth I slowly slide my hand over. YES! I got the bacon.
“Put it back,” he states, his eyes not leaving the book. How did he see me?
“But…”
His eyes still don’t leave the book, “Put it back.”
“You don’t control me or my body, I’ll eat what I like.”
“As long as you’re staying here you’ll look after your body and your unborn child the way you’re supposed to,” his book is now down and his eyes are on me.
“It’s just bacon you freakin’ pig Nazi. I can’t live on organic, I still need a bit of junk food,” I snap, my voice sounding as exasperated as I feel and I feel extremely exasperated.
“Do as you’re told,” he half shouts.
“No,” I bring the bacon to my mouth, take a bite and chew.
He’s up in an instant, his sudden move startles me so I’m up faster than I’ve been able to get up for the past three months. We stare at each other, his eyes full of warning; my body now shaking. I’m a little bit scared to be honest.
I just want the bacon. I take another bite, he stalks towards me. I step backwards with each step he takes.
“What are you doing?” I ask, paralysed by my fear. I shouldn’t have pushed him, I hardly know him. What if he slaps me or chains me up in my room?
What if he takes my bacon?
“Give me the bacon.”
I blink when my back hits the wall, “It’s just one slice of bacon.”
“You deliberately disobeyed me,” he snaps and holds a napkin out. “Give me the bacon.”
“Fine, fucking have it,” I shout and place it on the napkin, my temper rising.
Suddenly he’s in my face, his hand slams into the wall beside my head. I whimper as he comes closer until his nose is only an inch from mine. “Curse again and you’ll regret it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Curse again and find out.” He threatens and pulls away, the bacon and napkin crushed in his fist.
I slide down the wall after he leaves the room, taking our plates with him. If I could wrap my hands around my knees I would. Suddenly I don’t want to be here anymore.