Unconventional

Earn

Jennifer knew she had to earn her keep.

Emilio made sure she was acutely aware of her place in the house. Each day began promptly at 6 a.m. with the ritual of preparing breakfast for both of them. Not a sound was to be made; any deviation from this routine would lead to punishment. Her duties included ironing his clothes and packing his lunch before he left for work. Throughout the day, she was expected to keep the house spotless and have dinner ready by the time he returned. She fell back into this schedule almost automatically.

Emilio kept a close watch on her, with cameras positioned inside and outside the front door. He noted her comings and goings with meticulous attention.

For about four to five hours each day, she would leave the house. At first, Emilio was suspicious, fearing she might be trying to run away again. But then, one day, he saw her return with a bag of Chipotle and settle onto the couch.

He frowned, irritated. She could have easily made that food at home, but instead, she chose to spend money on takeout. Emilio wondered where she got the money from. He had cut off her allowance months ago. Was she seeing other men, spending money she shouldn't have?

The thought gnawed at him.

When Emilio came home that evening, he walked through the door carrying a bag of Chipotle. He set it down on the kitchen counter, his eyes narrowing as he took in Jennifer's presence. She had just finished cleaning up from preparing a meal, and the smell of the fast food filled the room, clashing with the aroma of the dinner she had worked hard to make.

Jennifer looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "You bought Chipotle?" she asked, her voice tinged with unease.

Emilio set the bag down with a definitive thud. "Yeah, I thought I'd treat us to something different tonight." He eyed her with a steely gaze. "But I want to know why you've been buying this stuff while you're out. You know it's not good for you—or the baby."

Jennifer's shoulders slumped. "I just like the taste. It's been a while since I had it. It's a little treat for myself."

Emilio's expression hardened. "A little treat? You think this is the right time for treats? You've been eating like this a lot lately. You used to devour fast food like it was your lifeline when we first met. Is that what you're doing again? Trying to get back to that?"

Her face flushed with embarrassment. "I just... I don't eat it every day. I was only trying to enjoy something different."

Emilio's voice grew sharper, filled with contempt. "Enjoy something different? You're supposed to be taking care of yourself and the baby. This food is loaded with crap that's bad for you both. And let's not forget how you used to be—overweight and unhealthy. I took you in and cleaned you up, and now you're slipping back into those old habits."

Jennifer's eyes filled with tears, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. She tried to defend herself. "I'm trying to do better. I'm just... I wanted something different for once."

Emilio's gaze was unrelenting, his voice a harsh reminder of her past. "Trying to do better? You need to remember where you came from. You were always eating junk food and never cared about your health. Now that you're pregnant, you should be even more careful. But here you are, buying unhealthy food behind my back. You're not just neglecting yourself; you're neglecting the baby."

He stepped closer, his presence intimidating. "And don't think I don't see through your excuses. I know you're wasting money on this crap, money you shouldn't have. Maybe you think you can sneak around and do what you want, but that's not how it works here. You have responsibilities, and you need to start acting like it."