Mr and Mrs Nemesis✔️

Chapter Twelve - Back Alley Counselling

Sitting at dinner with both my parents opposite, Ezra at the head of the table and Elijah beside me might just be the most uncomfortable experience of my life.

It weirdly resembles how I introduced Adam to my family when we first started dating, although we weren't punching each other under the table like Hendrix and I are every time the other dares to try say something incriminating.

"I didn't realise the two of you had become such good friends." My mum says as she collects the empty plates. I snort mid drink, sending water spraying from my nostrils before I turn beet red while choking to empty my airways.

Ezra looks at me something between confused and mortified, while my father looks positively disgusted, wiping a single finger over the drop of water on his cheek. Elijah, well, he's grinning like a Cheshire Cat, slapping me me harshly on the back. It makes a change on where he's been leaving bruises on my leg, digging his knuckle into my thigh to stop me from bitching about him. I look at him with a scowl when I can final breathe again.

"Oh yeah, really good friends." Hendrix says, nearly making me vomit up the lasagne I've just eaten. Never did I think I would be happy to hear the shrill cries of my hate-child, but when it offers me the perfect excuse to leave the table, I can't help but smile. "I'll come give you a hand." Elijah offers, looking up at me through his long lashes, the emerald green of his eyes battling through. I scowl at him.

"Don't you have a home to go to?" I grit out. He plasters on a boyish grin and tilts his head ever so slightly.

"I'm in no rush." He tells me. With flared nostrils and a roll of my eyes, I grumble acceptance and the pair of us go up to see our screaming child that lays completely motionless in the Moses basket. I scoop her up and start to rock her, rifling through her bag for a bottle. It's exceptionally more difficult to multitask that I originally thought and when her pink satchel falls over and spills the contents, I groan in frustration.

Hendrix rolls his eyes and crouches down, handing me a bottle before he continues to sort out the contents of the bag, lining everything out on my windowsill. I watch him with scrutiny as I feed Ellie. She's quiet, finally, but when she's finally finished feeding, she starts crying again. "What, what did I do?" I ask her, not too expecting of an answer.

"She'll need burping." Hendrix says, evoking a harsh look from me.

"She's a doll, she can't burp." I inform him. Hendrix rolls his eyes and takes her from me, proceeding to hold her awkwardly, cupping her face with one hand as he sits her on his knee, tapping her on the back.

"She has sensors to monitor what we're doing." Eventually, she stops crying and with a smug look, he puts her back into her basket. "Told you."

"Do you know how insufferable you are? No one likes a know it all." I snap at him. He scowls, ready to argue back, but my phone rings and I hold a hand up to silence him. My hardened expression falters when I see the ID and I chew on my lip, deliberating on whether I should pick up on not.

Hendrix simply watches, studying as I battle against the devil and angel perched on my shoulder. Will he call again? Why is he calling? Should I really do this in front of Elijah?

Curiosity wins and I answer. "Why are you calling?" I ask through a sigh. I know that Hendrix is listening, but he pretends to busy himself by looking at the baby clothes on the bed.

"Can you talk?" Adam says.

"We've been over this; I have nothing to say. You need to stop this." Without even having to specify, Elijah seems to realise who I'm talking to, his eyes flickering over to me and he falls short in folding the baby grow he holds.