Page 64 of Adam & Eve

out on me instead of the door.

This situation was getting progressively worse. Next time, I thought, he might not be so kind.

Both of us throwing tantrums every five minutes wasn’t going to get me out of that room. I needed a

moment alone and hoped he stayed in the bathroom for a while. I needed to think without his eyes on

me. His gaze was so distracting, so intense. It was like he was trying to steal my soul. Pretending it

didn’t affect me had me on edge. Sometimes I found myself liking it, becoming heated from the weight

of it. Then I’d get mad at myself for liking it. The situation was messing with my mind. I needed to get

out.

I sat down at the table and found myself cautiously glancing at the door every other second. It

was only after the shower came on that I figured he probably wasn’t coming out anytime soon. Then

and only then did I let myself relax fully.

An hour passed while I gave myself a good talking to. I decided to chill with the attitude and

smart remarks that came natural to me. I knew I wouldn’t keep pushing him and keep coming away

unharmed. And I had to apologize. That would be the hard part.

I got up and made my way over to the dresser to find clothes to put on. I debated on whether to

stay undressed. Nudity might help me in the long run. However, I decided against it and slipped into a

long wife beater. I wouldn’t make it too obvious that I was trying to play him. Outside the bathroom

door, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before knocking.

“Adam,” I called to him. He didn’t respond. “May I come in?” I asked.

Again, he said nothing. I turned the knob to see if it was locked. It wasn’t. I pushed the door

open and found him sitting on the toilet with his head bowed. His hands were covering his eyes. His

hair was wet and there was a towel wrapped around him.

Cautiously, I made my way over to where he was sitting. He remained unmoving even when I

was on my knees in front of him. I reached for his right hand, the one he had punched the door with,

and then examined it. The blood was gone, but the skin was a bright angry red. He went to snatch

away, but I wouldn’t let him. I brought it to my lips then pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles. It was a

peace offering. My way of apologizing without saying words that I didn’t mean. Even the thought of

fixing my mouth to tell him those words caused me to inwardly recoil. He deserved everything I had

given him for kidnapping me.

After intertwining our fingers, then and only then did he look at me. Like always, he searched