the things we do in the dark (+18)

21

Coffee is everywhere – underneath the couch, in the planter pot, all over the coffee table and soaked in her clothes. Iverem hadn't intended for things to get this bad. But that's how things usually end up with her family.

Iverem and her mother fought earlier this morning. Last night, she left the sink's tap on. After Iverem turned it off, she called her mother into the kitchen.

"You forgot to turn off the sink," she said. Iverem knew it wasn't her mother's fault that she left the kitchen tap running. She knew her mother couldn't help herself. Forgetting was the modus operandi of dementia. But Iverem was not so forgiving this morning. She woke up from a terrible nightmare—the kind where all her teeth fell out of her mouth. So, someone had to suffer because of the horrible start to her day.

"Sorry," her mother said. "I didn't mean to."

When the kettle finished boiling, before Iverem moved to the living room, she uttered: " quit raising my fucking water and light bill."

"What did you say to me?" her mother yelled, following her into the living room.

"I said, 'I'm tired of you raising my fucking water and light bill,'" Iverem said.

As Iverem sat on the living room couch, her mother stood over her, jabbing a crooked finger at her face. "Don't speak to me like that."

"You're in my apartment; I can speak to you whichever way I want!"

Iverem's outburst frightened her mother. Although Iverem wasn't prone to fits of rage, her personality had become unruly over the last year. Today was finally her unravelling. "What's going on with you today?"

What was going on with Iverem? She couldn't pinpoint it. All she knew was that each day her stomach grew more prominent, so did her hate for her mother. Iverem couldn't imagine putting her daughter through some of the things her mother did to her. Now, whenever she saw her, all she could think was: How could she do that to me?

"Why did you never ask me why I always came home late after church?"

"What are you talking about?" her mother said.

Iverem threw her coffee mug at her. "Don't pretend you didn't know what Michael was doing to me."

The mug flew into the air, missing her mother significantly. Instead, the coffee claimed its aim on both of them before swirling around the room. Thankfully, the coffee was already cold, so no one suffered too much from Iverem's anger.

Her mother rolled her eyes. The gesture made Iverem feel like a child. "You mean that issue you had between you and your little boyfriend."

She wasn't getting through to her mother. She would never understand, or maybe she didn't care. All that talk about family, about supporting each other; it didn't matter when it was about her needing the support. It never mattered when it was about her.

At that moment, Iverem wanted her gone.

"I have to go," she said, riffling through her handbag for her car keys. I don't think we should live together anymore."

Iverem collected her things. She thought about going to work early but decided to call in sick. Instead, she drove around the city until she got a headache. Not ready for whatever unresolved childhood trauma she had to deal with when she got home, Iverem went to Jonah's house.

She hadn't confided in Jonah before they went to Colorado for Christmas. Iverem wasn't even sure if she was allowed to commiserate around Jonah anymore. Even though Jonah hadn't shown any signs of resentment, she'd been walking on eggshells around him since they got back together. Iverem knew it was only time before he found someone else, someone better suited for him. She was practically counting down the days. But she didn't have anyone to talk with about this ever-present gnawing in her chest. This hate, this anger, it was going to kill her if she didn't let it out – cut it open and let it hemorrhage like a puss-filled wound.

I could go to August, Iverem thought. The thought was so fleeting that Iverem couldn't help but snort at the idea.

As usual, when Jonah answered the door, he wore a dress shirt and pants, his phone practically glued to his ear.

"Hey honey, " he said, kissing her on the cheek.

Jonah left the front door open for Iverem as he returned to his study, talking loudly with who Iverem presumed was Omar. She expected their call to take some time, so she made herself some lunch. Iverem had been craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for weeks. Iverem thought she might as well indulge in the desire before she lost the excuse to give in to her cravings.

"You're off from work early, "Jonah said, joining her on the couch.

She was watching some shitty reality tv show that was spectacularly mind-numbing. "I took a mental health day."

"Why? What's wrong?" he said, taking half her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "I also thought we agreed to work on our eating habits."

Iverem sighed. "I know. I've just had a tough day."

"You know, you can always talk to me," he said. Jonah's other hand was on Iverem's knee. His green eyes were soft—they were always soft on her.

"My mother is being difficult as usual," she said. She wanted to end the conversation there but couldn't shut up. "Jonah, I was raped when I was thirteen."

Iverem gauged Jonah's reaction. He was perfectly stoic. She didn't know what to make of his silence.

"I fought with my mom about it, and she doesn't... She doesn't want to acknowledge what happened to me."

"I'm so sorry, Iverem," he said.

Jonah took Iverem into his arms. His body was warm and solid, while her own felt weak and diminished. The tears came, but she was able to hide her sobs in his chest. She didn't feel his judgement. It wasn't hard to decipher disgust or mortification on someone's face when you told them your deepest, darkest secret, but Jonah's gaze was attentive. The way he was looking at her took her breath away. Iverem could see glimpses of August in the surety of his demeanour and how he collected himself amidst a crisis. He'd been her saviour once again, just like at college when she'd taken too many sleeping pills and he had to take her to the hospital.

"I've also been keeping something for you," she said. "I'm pregnant."

His composure slipped a bit. "How long?"

"I've been pregnant for three months now."

The gravity of the situation finally settled in Jonah's bones. "But... we were so careful."

Iverem shook her head, untangling herself from Jonah's arms. "I know this isn't the best time for you to have a baby, and neither is it for me, but I will keep it. You don't need to worry – "

"Iverem, I'm happy we're having a baby. I'm just shocked," he said.

Calculations were going on behind Jonah's eyes, yet Iverem chose to believe him. There was no other option.

She decided to go home.

The mess at her apartment is the same as she left it. Her mother hasn't touched a thing, which Iverem infers means she isn't home. The coffee has turned sticky, but she is somewhat glad the clean-up will be more challenging. She needs something to do that'll get her out of her mind.

A notification goes off on her phone. She guesses it's someone from work, Jonah, or maybe her mother. She's finally figured out how to send a text message. When Iverem finally checks her phone, she realizes it's a message from August.