Anniversary

Chapter 6

"What the HELL are you doing in MY KITCHEN!?" Terry jolted straight up, confused about what was happening at first, but hearing the word 'whore' through the floorboards cleared it up rather quickly.

 "No, no, no, no, no, no, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" He ripped off the bed covers and scrambled to look for his pants. "Fuck, my girlfriend just met my wife!" was all he could think as he frantically pulled his jeans past his knees. Anxiety and panic raced through his veins as he thought about what to do about the situation downstairs. 

'I should go try to calm them down,' Terry thought. 'Yeah, right,' Terry also thought, 'Me and what army?'. 'Whatever, man, we've got this.' is what he would have liked to believe, and he certainly thought it, but as soon as the thought was finished, it was crushed under the weight of more realistic thoughts like 'i'm dead' and 'they're both going to kill me.'

He made his way down the stairs very slowly, as if to leave room for the possibility that this would resolve itself if he could just take a few more seconds than he normally would. It did not. He turned the corner into his Kitchen, and it was like a bomb had gone off. Things went from not great to really, really not ideal in about half a second. Jasmine was standing brandishing a spatula as a weapon attempting to force Hope out of the Kitchen. 

She looked like an avenging angel as the light from the oven hood framed her silhouette. Her thick raven hair was woven into a three-strand braid that cascaded past her shoulders and down her back. Jasmine moved slowly and deliberately toward Hope, baring her gritted teeth. When her eyes found Terry, she flinched almost imperceptibly, and before he could say anything, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. 

"You." The guttural sound was foreign to Terry's ears and made him re-think his decision to come down here. No matter how badly he wanted to turn and run, he decided to stand his ground. She, after all, was his wife and going to be the mother of his child. She deserves closure. "You brought her into our home? Into our bed? how could you?"

"Jazz, I need you to calm down." of all the things Terry could have, should have said in the moment, this wasn't it. It seemed to wake the sleeping dragon as she slammed the spatula into the plates that were placed on the counter. No doubt intended for the pancake breakfast Hope had planned on making. The dishes crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. 

"MY HOUSE?! We had a good LIFE! What did I EVER DO TO YOU?" Tears were streaming down Jasmine's face at this point. She was sobbing so loud she wrapped her arms around herself and began to hyperventilate. Terry rushed over to her and attempted to console her, but she shoved him back as hard as she could. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Her breathing rapidly deteriorated as her sobbing continued, and suddenly she collapsed. Terry was close enough to catch her mid-fall and carried her to the couch in the living room.  

"Jazz?" he said, trying to shake her. He grew more concerned the longer she remained unconscious. "JA-" He was interrupted by his front door opening.

"Minnie? did you come over here?" It was Max. He stumbled on the scene in the living room with Bettie in toe. "What the hell happened?" Max raced to Jasmine's side and pushed Terry out of the way, trying to see Jasmine's face. 

"She got into a screaming match with Hope and fainted," Terry's response was so monotone it made even himself blanch. Had he really stopped caring for her that much? No, that wasn't it. He must just be exhausted from the last few days' events. He sat back and propped his chin on his knee. Something he usually did when he was anxious. It helped him stave off anxiety attacks to feel the comfort of pressure in his chest. 

"We need to take her to the hospital and make sure she's okay." Bettie chimed in. They all nodded in agreement and stood as Max picked Jasmine up and cradled her in his arms. He turned to look at Terry and glared daggers at him.