Killing Me Softly (#Wattys2016)

THIRTY

THIRTY

Paula had slipped out of bed quiet as a mouse. Phillip had finally let her out of the bathroom, but not before he had forced her to her knees and made her tell him over and over how much she loved him before he allowed her to crawl into bed, limp as a rag doll.

This morning, she was determined to show Phillip she was worthy of his love. She pressed his blazer four times, almost burning a hole into the thick fabric. She made him three slices of French toast instead of his customary two and four slices of turkey bacon rather than three. She just wanted to make him happy, because when he was happy, she was happy. She spread the peanut butter for his lunchtime pb&j sandwich across the fluffy white bread, mindful not to tear holes in the delicate slices. After packing Phillip's lunch, Paula forced her trembling fingers to assemble the breakfast food on the table. She waited for him to emerge from the master bedroom, her nerves tight as a drum. Finally, the door creaked open and she heard him pad across the abundant white carpet. He gave her a stern look before his eyes swept across the table.

"I made extra breakfast this morning," she said. "I hope it's okay."

Phillip set a cold stare on Paula. "I've been forced to have fast food for my dinner the past few nights. You know how much I hate that."

Paula's eyes dissolved into pools of water. "Oh, I am so sorry you had to do that. Can you ever forgive me?"

"You will have to do a lot to earn my trust back, Paula. Are you prepared to do that?"

"Oh, yes, anything, anything at all."

Phillip gave her a curt nod of approval. "Good. We can start today. I would like you to start by disinfecting the walls from top to bottom. Then scrub the tiles in both bathrooms with a toothbrush. Afterwards, I want you to sweep and mop the garage. And I still expect dinner to be on the table at six when I get home. If I find any of those things not done when I return, you will be punished."

Paula stood in front of her husband, her eyes bolted to the floor before she nodded her agreement. "Yes, dear. I will do all those things," she whispered.

Phillip threw back his shoulders. "I'm glad we understand each other. Oh. And one more thing. You will feed me my entire meal this morning."

Paula pinched her lips shut. "Yes, dear."

"All right then. Now. Open wide."

Obediently, Paula held out her tongue for her vitamins and followed them with a glass of water. Phillip waited for Paula to seat him at the kitchen table. She started to pull up a chair next to him when he held out his hand.

"Standing," he said.

With a plaintive inhale, she stood in silence next to Phillip and fed him each forkful of his breakfast. She managed not to spill anything, and when he indicated he was done, she dabbed the corners of his mouth with the soft fabric of the white linen napkin she'd tucked into his collar. Paula went into the kitchen to retrieve the lunch she had made for Phillip, who stood by the closet, impatient for his blazer. She handed him his lunch and got the blazer out of the closet. As she started to put it on him, he grabbed it from her and held it up for inspection.

"Much better job today. You are already improving."

"I just want you to be happy, dear," she murmured as she helped him into the jacket.

He smiled and gave her a cold peck on the cheek. "We haven't had relations yet this week. Expect to have them tonight."

Paula swallowed. "Yes, dear. Have a good day."

Phillip turned on his heel and left the house. Paula stood rooted to the spot until she heard his car pull away. With an audible sigh of relief, Paula fell against the couch for several minutes before she began her chores for the day.