Y’know what’s not cool? Having to put up and shut up when you can barely get out of the bath by yourself and your husband is still off making porn with god knows who. I mean, having to do stuff by myself is fine, ‘cause I’m trying to regain two months of muscle waste and all, but it’s really not fun when you have to do stuff alone and there’s no one to help you if you get stuck. Like the time I got stuck in the bath tub. I’d spent all day doing exercises and was kinda sore from it all and figured I’d have a nice warm bath to relax. Turns out I forgot I couldn’t lift my own body up out of the water and I was stuck. So I sat there til Kyle got home. Which, by the way, was a good few hours and I looked like a wrinkly skeleton by the time he found me stuck in the bath sulking and freezing cold.
When he got back, I was sat there shivering, wondering if I’d miss my dick if it fell off. He came in and lifted me out, wrapping me in a towel to dry me off, half cuddling, half drying. I just kinda stood there hugging myself, too cold to really do anything to help myself. It made me feel kinda pathetic and needy. More pathetic and needy than I already felt from not being able to get out of the bath, anyway.
He got me dressed in a pair of joggers I’d bought because they were the only pants that didn’t fall straight down, and a shirt. They’d pretty much become my pyjamas in the last couple of weeks, ‘cause I didn’t have to see how disgusting I looked in baggy clothes. Kyle got me the comforter from the bedroom and went off to the kitchen to do something. I sat down on the sofa with it, wrapping myself up in it like a burrito to try and warm up.
Apparently Kyle had gone to the kitchen to make me a hot chocolate. "Sorry about that," he said, handing me a warm mug of cocoa. I thanked him for the drink, pretending that I wasn’t bothered that his stupid porn job meant I was stuck in the bath for hours on end. Didn’t bother me. Not. At. All. "Don't mention it." I smiled a little, drinking the cocoa to give myself an excuse to not talk. He snuggled up to me, but I didn’t really snuggle back, not wanting to get out of my burrito.
Kyle’d picked up his mail on the way up and started opening it. I didn’t have any, so I just sort of watched him open his. He flicked through a couple of bank statements before turning to some letter that didn’t look like any normal mail.
"Apparently I've been nominated for some award," he said. I looked over at it curiously. He showed me the letter and I read through it, not really liking what I read.
"I didn't know you could get awards for being in porn," I muttered.
"Me either." He kissed my cheek, noticing that I wasn’t impressed with this at all. "C'mon, it's not like I'll win."
"That's not the point," I reminded him, making him sigh a little. “Oh, c'mon, 'Best Rented Title'?” I asked, reading off the letter in his hand, ignoring the other nomination for best newcomer. “Not only are you wank material for anyone that happens to see your stuff, your stuff is being watched so much that it's been nominated as best rented title!"
He kissed my cheek again. "Try not to let it bother you, gorgeous."
"It bothers me enough as it is that you even do porn, or have sex with other people.” Notice how I left out the part where he gets paid for the sex. I don’t like him fucking other people. I know I don’t have the best sex drive, but he’s never up for being with me after being with a bunch of other guys, and even that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that my husband is sleeping around with other people. We’re married, and he’s just out fucking other people whether I like it or not.
"I know it does, and I'm sorry, but it's the only thing I'm good at."
"You were a good waiter,” I said kinda sulkily.
"But all the restaurants round here don't need more staff."
“Never thought about moving somewhere else where they do?"
"I like it here." I sighed, not looking at him. He gave me a tiny kiss on my jaw, giving me more kisses when I glanced at him. When I didn’t really react in any way, he started nibbling a little.
"What?" I asked
"Doing porn." I was quiet, and his little nuzzle wasn’t going to persuade me to say anything. "Come to this awards thing with me?" he gave me the puppy eyes.
"And sit in a room full of people you've been fucking while I was in a coma? I don't think so."
"Pwease? I only did a couple things while you were in a coma." And that makes it better?
"If I wanted to see the people you've fucked, I'll watch your porn."
"I'll buy you another fluffy creature of your choice,” he bargained, giving me more of the puppy eyes.
"I don't want to go."
"I'll make it up to you."
"I'll get Scruffles a friend and I'll be your slave for the day."
"I want a friend for Scruffles and for you to give up porn."
"I need a job, though, gorgeous."
"Why? I can earn enough to keep both of us if I get back out to dealing," I reminded him.
"Because I can't just sit around doing nothing."
"There're plenty of other jobs, y'know? Can't you work in a shop or something til another good waiting job comes along?"
"I asked around, they all want sales experience, not waiting experience."
"Get some sales experience then?"
"How? I need a job for that."
"Like they'd take me on."
"That's why I suggested moving somewhere else,” I shrugged, "I know you like it here, but everyone here knows you killed daddy."
"Everyone'll know no matter where we go."
"Why would they know? It wasn't exactly broadcast on national news."
"No, but something like that stays on your record."
"It was self defence, Kyle. And a record doesn't always stop you getting a job. Damien has a job and he was in jail for four years"
"He didn't kill anyone."
"Drugs are just as bad. Drugs are an addiction and more likely to be a problem in the future."
"Good thing I've got that going for me too, then." I had to resist the urge to slam my head into a wall. We were starting to go in circles.
"You don't have a record for them though."
"Look, I'm happy here. I've made a life for myself here."
"A life in porn? Really?"
"I meant a life with you." Oh. Crap. I leant into him, putting my head on his shoulder. I felt kinda like he was annoyed, so I stopped talking. He kissed my head and I just sort of curled up in my burrito, feeling a little bit sick.