Your Ivy Grows

Chapter 11

John is in a foul mood, creating a tension so thick I can almost taste it. It hangs in the air, setting me on edge. I've done all I can to convince him I don't need to go with him tonight, but he's having none of it. How many events are they going to force him to go to? Should he not be off on actual missions, not schmoozing at parties?

Although his last mission is the reason for his sour mood, so maybe it's better they don't keep sending him on them. If I have to hear him rant about it one more time, I'm not sure what I'll do. And somehow I'm to blame for why it went so badly. Sounds about right for John, he's never been good at taking accountability for his own actions. Barnes might aggravate me like nobody else, but at least he does a good job of doing the same to John.

"Look, I don't understand why you're being so fucking difficult about this. I'm not asking for much, Alex. You're my wife; they'll expect you to be there so you're coming." He doesn't even bother to look at me. He's looking in the mirror, playing with his tie, making sure it's perfect.

"I'm fine with coming, that's not the issue. It will be nice to see Marty. Plus, Lemar will be there too, right?" I glimpse his reflection in the mirror as he nods in confirmation. "I just don't want to be a part of your scheme to win over Barnes anymore. He's insufferable."

We've been having the same fight for the last few nights, ever since he got back from Munich. It didn't go well. In fact, it went so badly it put John in a rage that lasted two days and destroyed half the house. But he's convinced himself the only reason the first mission was such a failure is because they weren't already working together. And somehow that's my fault because I couldn't win the guy over.

"Really, Alex?" He turns to me now. "These missions are dangerous, especially now we know what we're up against. Barnes and Wilson are our best chance. It's not like I'm asking you for much; all you need to do is talk to the guy."

"Why?" I ask him in frustration. "We tried that, remember? He's not fucking interested. I don't know why you're acting like you can't see that. Sometimes you just need to deal with the fact you can't get what you want, John. Barnes has no interest in working with you. I'm not going to convince him otherwise, no matter how hard I try."

"Have you tried, though?" In a few angry strides, John is now standing in front of me. He brings his hand up, gripping my jaw so I have to meet his eyes. "It doesn't really seem like you've tried at all. I'm asking you do to one simple fucking thing for me and you can't even manage that. After everything I've done for you, you can't help me with this one thing? Why are you such a vindictive fucking bitch these days, Alex?"

I bite my tongue, stopping myself from saying what I really want to say because I know that won't end well for me. Instead, I just do exactly what he wants me to do, what he expects me to do. I back down, become that wife he loves so much. The one who just does whatever he wants whenever he expects it from me.

"Fine, I'll try one more time. Not that Barnes will make it easy." That placates him enough that he lets go of me. I turn away from him, heading for the stairs so I can finish getting ready.

"Thank you." He calls after me.

Yeah, yeah, I think to myself. Fuck you, John! I know it's childish, and I'm only doing it to anger him and make myself feel better, but I slide off the dress John chose for the evening. Instead, I grab one of the many dresses he hates with a passion and put that on instead. The plunging front of this one means I have to ditch my bra, which is going to infuriate John in and of itself. Not to mention the split on this black number goes dangerously high up my thigh. I guess John's right; I am a vindictive bitch.