Moments II: A BWWM Short Story Collection

X. For Worse (Pt. 1 of 5)

As suggested by fixzy02.

The sound of a shower filtering through the walls roused me, and a smile crossed my lips as I rolled out of bed to tiptoe towards the bathroom. Invigorating steam wafted past my face as I cracked open the door into the cramped by pristine bathroom beyond. I passed the embroidered black and white towels respectively bearing "Mrs." and "Mr." on them as I snuck up on my newfound bride, who was busy singing her heart out.

"...the might injector, the heart protector, the sole defender of anything I fear..."

"Heather Headley again?" I said out loud.

Eliza gave an adorable squeak as she jumped and rushed to cover herself, not that she needed to with all the steam fogging up the shower stall. The glass squeaked as a dark palm bedecked with dazzling nails opened a circle in the steam, and a captivating heart-shaped face arched an eyebrow at me.

"If you can call my croaking singing, Max," Eliza said as she eyed my naked torso. "Perhaps you'd like to sing a duet with your new wifey in the shower?"

I took my time undressing for Mrs. Eliza Beckett. She'd made no secret of her love for my toned body, and the increasingly furious motions she made to clean the glass told me last nights' romp hadn't been enough. I stalked over to open up the stall, reveling in the thin but curvy woman splayed against the back of the shower.

"You lookin' a little dirty, white boy," Eliza said as she squeezed a soapy loofa, "Good thing you've got me to get you clean."

I smirked as I pulled Eliza in for a passionate kiss, and the memory of that glorious morning burned like fire in my brain... until it was interrupted by a furious scream.

"Ooooooooooooooh, I miss the misery!"

Chanting and heavy guitar riffs finally prodded my brain awake, and groaned as I rolled over in bed. It my sluggish mind a moment to realize this was the third and final alarm clock song, and I scrambled to shut it off with the realization I was already late.

"Sorry for starting today off with Halestorm, baby," I said as I turned to the woman in bed beside me, "I must've stayed up too late last-"

I cut off as Eliza leaned over and vomited spectacularly into the pot at the foot of her side of the bed. I tried to hold her hair out of the way but she pushed me off with an irritated scowl, a harbinger that she was going to be in a foul mood today.

"You know how much I hate that song, Max," Eliza said as she spat in the pot to finish. "I told you to take it off the wakeup rotation."

I mumbled a quick "sorry" as Eliza took a deep breath and stood up, revealing a massive belly swollen with twins. She waddled to the bathroom without another word, and I watched her disheveled mop of curly hair disappear with the slamming of the door.

A sigh escaped my lips as I stood up, rubbing my stiff back as I took in nineteen years of age that had occurred since we moved in to this house. That dream, that memory, of me and Eliza at twenty-four and twenty-two years old seemed like another lifetime now, a scene from someone else's happy marriage that had never slowed down.

With a jolt, I realized I was supposed to be getting ready for work, and I hastily threw on my work suit as the sound of sputtering water filtered through the wall.

"Max, I thought you said you fixed the shower head!" came Eliza's shout.

My mirror image's face scrunched up in annoyance. I had fixed the shower head. Twice in fact. Was it my fault that Eliza kept cranking up the temperature every day?