The Bars Between Us

52. Straw

I'm downstairs when Roman arrives back at the house. He comes in, wishes me a good morning which throws me, and places a polystyrene container on the table in front of me. I jump up to get him a coffee, but he is already moving to the coffee machine by the time I'm on my feet. I sit back down cautiously, ready to jump up again if Roman complains about me not getting his coffee for him. Roman busies himself with the coffee machine, before looking back over his shoulder at me at the table, the box in front of me untouched.

"Are you going to eat?" he asks, and although his tone isn't angry it spurs me into action, not wanting to get on his wrong side. I want this to go as smoothly as possible. It would be easier if he was in a good mood when we started.

I open the box in front of me, finding waffles from a diner that's only ten minutes away by foot. Before we had married, it became a tradition for us to visit there every weekend and spoil ourselves with brunch. That was when Roman was more frugal with our money.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I went off waffles when he started to hit me, so all I can do is thank him.

I pick up the disposable cutlery, cutting a small triangle. The waffle with the strawberry and chocolate toppings were all a lot sweeter than I remembered, and the texture was kind of like cardboard in my mouth. Did the diner change hands, or was it just love that made the waffles taste better when we used to go?

I try my best and finishing the stack in front of me, but I'm not able to get more than a quarter of the way before I feel sick from the amount of cream and sugar.

I push the box away from me, hoping that this won't cause Roman's anger at me to rise.Roman's coffee is brewed, and he sits down opposite me, his mug between his hands. His eyes wander from my face down to the half-finished waffles but it's not mentioned.

"Aphrodite," he starts. I cross my arms, examining him. "I want to express my heartfelt apologies again."

"For what?" I ask, attempting to stay as unemotional as I can. I want this to be purely a conversation, with nothing more getting in the way.

"For everything," Roman responds. "Firstly for not telling you about your father. I was going to tell you before we saw them, and then I got called away, and I guess it just slipped my mind. If I'm being honest, Aphrodite, I didn't know how to tell you and I didn't want to."

"Why not?" I seethe.

"Because..." He groans. "Because your dad being ill affected me as well and I didn't want to face him going like my..." He trails off, never finishing the sentence but I can do that without any help from him. His dad.

"He's my dad, Roman," I state, keeping myself from screaming and yelling at him like the night before. There's still more to talk about.

"I know, it was a stupid mistake."

"A mistake," I say, nodding along although I don't believe it to be a mistake. It's more in disbelief. "Anything else you're sorry for?" I prompt. I want him to give each apology on his own terms and with no suggestion of what to apologize for from me.

"I didn't mean to cause you so much pain over..."

"So that was all an accident, a mistake? You didn't mean to hit me, or nearly break my wrist, or nearly raping me?" With every recollection of everything that's happened, my anger heats up more.

"You going to eat that?" he asks, motioning to the box in between us.

"Roman!" I cry, outraged that he's changed the subject. How dare he belittle everything and ignore it.

"Well are you?" he asks the hard edge that I'm used to hearing from him coming back into his voice. I fall back in disbelief.

"No," I mutter, trying to alleviate the unpredictable anger that's starting to show.

Roman pulls the box harshly toward him, picking up the fork standing in the waffle and stabbing a strawberry. He starts to eat, ignoring what we were just talking about. I stand up abruptly, shaking my head. I go to walk out of the kitchen, muttering under my breath.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone snappy.

"I said you can't ignore this forever," I tell him, and it comes out louder than I had first intended.

"I've apologized, Aphrodite," he points out.

"Yes, and I appreciate that, but it's not enough. You can just apologize and expect everything to go back to normal. You've done some things that aren't a simple thing for me to get over."

His hand closes around the fork he's holding, and his grip is so strong that the fork lets out a loud crack before giving under his force. I have been in that exact position so many times.

"Why did you hurt me, Roman?" I ask, stopping at the doorway. I don't care if I'm poking a sleeping lion right now, I want to know. That's the question I wanted to know when we started this talk, and I may as well ask him now. I'm not going to let him get away so easily.

"Go and get changed, I need you in the prison today," he says, his voice merging back into the one he used to use on me to get me to do what he wants. I'm not going to fight him on this because for the first time I actually want to go to work. It'll be an excuse to get my mind off everything, and I'll also be able to speak to Nixon, but I'm not going to roll over and let him boss me around as easily. The straw broke the camel's back yesterday, with the 'I hate you', and now I'm just adding more and more straw.

"I at least deserve an explanation after everything you've put me through, so fuck you, Roman."