Page 34 of Damaged Beast
The bed creaks as he gets in. The lights snap out. I focus on my phone, trying to act like Prime’s not lying next to me. I glance over and notice he put on a black t-shirt but nothing else on the bottom, only those same briefs. He’s frowning and typing something, responding to an email.
Normal. This is normal. It has to be normal, right? We’re married and trying to make it work, and besides, it’s Prime. We’ve been working together for years. I know him, know his habits, I can probably guess exactly who he’s messaging and what he’s saying based entirely on his facial expression. He’snota stranger.
Then why does it feel like I’m doing something wrong?
“Go to sleep and stop thinking about my genitals.” Prime rolls over and plugs his phone in.
“I wasn’t—“ I stop the denial and decide to ignore him.
Stupid, childish husband.
But sleep doesn’t come. I have a lot of work tomorrow. Not only am I still Prime’s assistant, which is an arrangement we really need to discuss, but the movers are coming with most of my stuff. I have to navigate how my parents will react to me leaving the house, especially my mother, while making sure the nurse can pick up the slack. Stress sits on my chest like a tomb andthen there’s Prime’s dick like a magical balm to all my troubles floating through my stupid brain.
“You’re still awake.” His voice cuts through the dark.
“I guess you are too.”
“Usually I can power down in a few seconds.”
“You’re a robot. Great to know.”
He shifts. I peek, curled on my side. He’s looking at the ceiling, face outlined in gray from the window. “What did you tell your parents about us?”
“You really want to talk about this now?”
“I’m curious.”
“I didn’t tell them anything.”
A hint of a frown. “How’s that work? You’re hoping they won’t notice you’re gone?”
“I told them I got my own place. Turns out, my mother doesn’t ask questions, and my father’s incapable of caring either way.”
“I see.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Yes and no. You obviously know how to handle your parents better than I do. But still… we’re married.”
“What would be the point? My mother would only worry and complain that I didn’t invite her to the wedding. My father would only forget. Why introduce that to their lives?”
“I guess they aren’t wondering where the money comes from.”
“My mom thinks I got a raise at work.”
A slight smile on his porcelain face. “Somewhat true.”
I bury myself deeper in the blankets. I don’t want to talk about my parents. Not with his warmth wrapping around me. “What about you? Did you… know your mom and dad?”
I don’t know why I ask. I guess I can’t help myself. I have the vague idea that Prime didn’t have a great childhood, but beyond that I’m clueless about that guy. I want to know more about my husband even if it’s always been clear he doesn’t want to talk about it.
But to my surprise, after a long silence, he turns his face toward the window. “I have an early memory. I was in a car with a woman… we were living there. I remember sleeping in the back, her arms wrapped around me, and it was cold but she was doing her best to keep me comfortable… but there’s nothing else. I always assume that was my mother.”
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know. My father was never around. I bounced around the foster care system for my entire childhood.”
“Except for that car.”
