Living with Jennifer Lawrence

[55:] Hell Breaks Loose

Josh's P.O.V.

I hadn't seen her in weeks.

Jen, my wife, looked almost the same since I had last seen her. Her blonde hair was about to touch her shoulders. It seemed like just yesterday when she had that pixie cut, which wasn't bad, but I like the longer hair better.

And those eyes were a beautiful blue, and her smile was so. . . amazing, just like her.

It was her hair I saw at first, for she was turned around and her back was facing me.

I tried to call out to her. “Jen! It's me!”

For some reason, she must have not heard me, because she was still turned around.

Confused, I tried to get her attention again. But it was no use. She wouldn't turn around.

Eventually I caught up to her, and I soon realized why she didn't look back at me.

She was . . . occupied.

Her lips were locked with another man, someone a bit taller than her.

“Jen? What the---?”

She finally turned around, and her eyes grew wide.

Immediately, all I felt was hurt.

“Josh, it isn't---” Jen was at a loss for words. Speechless.

The anger boiling inside of me felt overpowering.

“It isn't what?” I snapped at her.  “What could you possibly say to make this any better?”

I didn't dramatically run away like the characters do in movies. Instead, I stood there, arms folded.

Not surprisingly, Jen became teary-eyed. “Look, I can explain. . .”

I threw my arms in the air. “Then do it!”

I got a better look at this other man. He was tall with a bit of a muscular built, and blue eyes as well. I vaguely recognized him, but moments later, all the pieces began to fall into place.

The man was singer Chris Martin.

I remember hearing and seeing the rumors, and Jen quickly denied them, but here he was, in the flesh, right before us.

“Why don't you just leave?” Chris had finally spoken, his accent was thick. I think he's from the United Kingdom or something.

I gently pushed Jen aside, and got a little closer to his level.

He stood at six-foot-one, while I was only five-foot-seven, which is rather short for a guy.

I wouldn't let him intimidate me, either, so I gave him a cold glare and pushed him, making him go back a few steps.

“Is that all you've got?” He chuckled, then stared at Jen. “This cannot possibly be your husband, the one you were talking about. Just look at him, he's tiny!”

Knowing I am on the shorter side, I ignored the comment, and let out the first swing.

He was taken aback, for his attention was just directed towards my wife. My wife.

I'm sure there's a better way to resolve the conflict, but I was too upset to think about it.

My face stung. I was slapped by an older man. Surely he was smarter than to do that.

Just because I'm small doesn't mean I'm not strong.

We were on the street, near the airport I had just came from. The sun was still shining, and clouds scattered across the sky.

Without hesitation, I slammed his body against the wall and could hear Jen screaming in the background: “Josh, get off of him!” She tried to pull me away but failed; I was tense.

Chris didn't stay there, defenseless, like I wanted him to. Trust me, he put up a fight.

Punches were thrown around, in the face, in the jaw, on the stomach. Chris had a little blood from the busted lip I caused.

Jen kept shouting for us to stop, but we wouldn't. We couldn't.

Without realizing it, Chris was about to swing another punch, I dodged it, and let's just say Jen was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

She stumbled back and hit the ground, hard.

Did I mention she was showing?

Chris kneeled down to her but I pushed him away and I took his place.

I kept hearing Chris murmuring, “I'm so sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . .”

She was okay for the most part, just a little startled.

Fury had risen up inside me and I wasn't afraid to unleash it.

I fought him with all I had, and he did the same. We were both a little bloody at the end, but with a single punch and kick, he was down.

He was famous, surely someone would come to his side. I even noticed a group of people walking nearby.

Though I was upset she cheated on me, I had to rush to her side. After all, she's still my wife.

“Are you all right?” I asked but received no response. “Jen?”

I kept repeating the same question over and over until I snapped back into reality, realizing that it was all just a dream.

A horrifying, good-for-nothing dream.

Soon I jumped out of bed and began to get dressed, thinking about the real confrontation I was about to have with my wife.

*
I missed all of you!

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