Adurna

The Talk

Chapter Three-

The evening went by without Marcus having time to talk to me, in which I was grateful. Usually the rush of towns’ people excitedly awaiting their supper always had me appreciative when it was over, but as the last smiling faces vanished, I wished more would pile in. I had been working too hard during the evening to make any conversation with Marcus and vice versa. However, he made his way over to me as soon as we were in the clear. My stomach churned violently and I was sure it would empty itself if I had eaten anything besides the almost stale bread I had for lunch. I clenched my teeth and balled my fist so hard they turned white. Instinctively, I turned my back at the approaching man and began slowly gathering dishes.

Once I turned around, I slammed straight into his muscular chest. His steady hands held my shoulders as I stumbled backwards, nearly sending the plates to their death. Marcus kept his hands on me longer than were needed. I resisted the urge to kick him where it counts so hard he won’t have children. Instead, I shook his hands off forcefully and straightened myself.

“You are not the most graceful thing out there, sweetheart.” He said with a wide grin. I glared down at my feet, holding the plates in front of me with more effort than was healthy. “I’ll take those to the kitchen.” Marcus continued after a tense silence. His hands replaced mine and the dishes were gone.

I bit my lip to hold the tears back yet again. The very thought of Marcus made my throat constrict in horror and I had to swallow back bile. What happened to the good old days? I remember being able to sit by the lake with him and talk about everything with the thought of marriage, future, and true love far, far away. This isn’t fair. Gran has no right to just give me away like that. I’m able to decide my future by myself. I knew that I could just say no and be done with it, but I knew that Gran would not have that. She would push and push and push until I had to comply and be doomed like the rest of the women here to a life of sitting at home and raising the children while our husbands are off having fun in the world by themselves. The scene I had painted before my eyes was a horrid sight.

Quickly, I made my way around each table and stacked the plates high and placed the silver ware on top of the small tower for Marcus to bring to Gran to wash. I was in no mood to see either one of them. Every time I saw them I had to be careful of what I say and not to scream at them. The stress and anticipation was wearing down my will power.

“Gran,” I called towards the kitchen as Marcus exited the room swiftly. He glanced at the tables with the dishes stacked with an amused expression. Once I had loved that attractive gleam in his eyes, now it seems to be a hunter stalking its prey. It is wrong of me to think this about my best friend, but I can’t find it in me to regret the thoughts that play in my mind. I feel as though I’m a rabbit under the watch of two sharp eyed hawks waiting to swoop in and take away my life from right beneath my feet.

“Yes?” She called back absentminded. I took the opportunity to leave quickly, making a lie on my toes. I was not the greatest liar, and Marcus knew this best. My eyes tried a little too hard not to look over at him as he stepped out of the kitchen as soon as the lie began. He stopped mid stride to hear my words.

“I feel ill.” Marcus’s brows furrow in concern as his gaze ranks over my body then to my face. Again, I look away before he suspects anything...out of place. My voice did an odd dip as the lie danced awkwardly out of my fumbling lips. "Is it okay if I sleep while you and Marcus finish cleaning?”

There was a slight pause, then a familiar scrubbing of brushes against dirty and clean dishes. “Yes, darling. Feel good soon, yes?” 

Relief washes over me as I back towards the stairway to my bedroom. Marcus takes a lengthy stride towards me, but halts as I raise my hand to stop his ascend. I clutch my abdominal to show the fake pain I am supposed to have, which is not a lie, to my relief. My stomach has been in nervous knots all day to the point where it hurts to breathe. Thankfully, Marcus nods understandingly. I note the look of sadness and anxiety on his face, but try to think nothing of it. If I think, I will over think. If I over think, I won’t be able to think straight. I wish I could stop thinking all together.