Always Broken (Book 1 and 2)

Chapter 15: The Answer is No

When I let Brad sleep in, he missed work. I knew he would be mad at me but I did not care. When he woke up at eight in the morning, still in the bed, he was furious.

"Jackie! Why didn't you wake me up?" He asked, in a hurry to find his clothes.

"Because you're tired. I will not let you go to work until you're well rested. You're the CEO of your own company, and you need to take a breather," I replied calmly, crossing my arms.

"Jackie, I don't need your help. I have to work if we want to keep both of our parents happy; stupid idea," he snapped, and I flinched a little.

"Well, I don't care about that. I care about you being happy and well rested. You're not a slave. Plus, I don't care if you don't need my help. You're getting my help because I want to help you," I stomped my feet, while putting my hands on my waist. I know stomping your feet will not get you anywhere when you are talking to a thirty year old man. But nonetheless, when someone made me mad, I just started stomping. I do not know why I did it, I just did. I think it was because of the simple fact that slamming on one part of my body releases the anger inside me.

I saw a shirtless Brad walk over to me, faintly smiling as he looked at me. "Why are you talking back? Don't get smart with me," he whispered in my ear, grabbing me by my hips, as he pushed me against him. I started to giggle while he spoke into my ear because his breath tickled my earlobe.

"Brad, stop tickling my ear," I laughed, and he frowned, rolling his eyes, releasing my hips.

"We need to go shopping for you," he blurted out, and I sighed. The last time we went "shopping" Brad picked out everything. He had finally let me wear a couple of crop tops, but I had to beg him to wear those. He had a rule that I could wear them around the house but not in public. We had an agreement that if I let him pick out my clothes, he had to be nice about it, and tell me what he did not like about the clothes that I wanted to wear. We went over all of this in marriage counseling.

Speaking of counseling, we had a session next week, and the therapist told me that she felt sorry for me. She told me in private, 'Oh my goodness, but I thank the Lord my husband is not like yours' because if he was, we would be divorced. Like, your husband needs a lot of help.'

I was sort of depressed after that comment because you know your marriage has some issues if your therapist tells you that he or she feels sorry for you. That is kind of discouraging, but I love Brad, and I have come to realize, Brad is different from everyone else. He's the type of husband that challenges me as I challenge him. We literally bump heads and fight everyday, but even though I lose 99.9% of verbal arguments we get in, I still love my husband.

Brad brought me back to reality when he said, "Let's go shopping."

"Alright," I replied and we got Mister P to take us to a store for dresses. It was called 'Rubiola's Dresses,' and I had only been here once. The owner of the store was a very nice and petite Chinese woman in her early twenties. Her name was Mào, and she was very pretty with jet black hair and high cheek bones who looked to be around '5'6' in height. We became associates when she helped me find a dress for my engagement party.

"Jackie, stop staring off into space. What do you want?" He asked, irritated as we looked through a certain display of elegant dresses.

"I'm sorry, I just got distracted," I said. I scanned the store for things that I could possibly wear when I caught sight of a beautiful, black dress. I really wanted the dress because even though it was only one color, it brought out the dark and mysterious look, and it would go well with my eyes. The dress had spaghetti straps and it flowed all the way to the floor, pulling off the similar form of a nightgown but much better. My eyes got wider and before you knew it, I was imagining putting on the dress and wearing it through the halls of a charity event or a piano concert.

"What are you staring at?" Brad questioned, and I immediately stopped looking at it. I mean, knowing my spouse by now, I know he is most definitely not going to let my prance around with a dress that reveals my back. He barely lets me wear crop tops, and that's a miracle. So, I threw the dress out my mind.

"Nothing," I lied, biting my lip.

"Don't lie to me," he said, sharply, and his eyes darkened.

"Fine," I sighed, "I was just looking at this black dress, and it's really cute. But it's okay, you don't have to buy it for me. I can buy it myself." I had plenty of money, and I could buy it myself, but Brad liked buying things for me, and I did not want to hurt his feelings by telling him that was off limits. I had already tried that, and let's just say, that did not go too well. But, that is a story for another time, and it's quite comical. It seems like something I would write about in my diary.

"You don't know what I'll buy. Where is it?" He said, curiously, and I pointed where the dress was displayed. Brad walked over to the dress, picking it up and feeling the fabric in between his fingers.

I was surprised when he called a salesperson over, asking how much it was so that he could buy it, and about thirty minutes later, I was walking out the store with a new dress.

"Thank you," I said to Brad, holding the bag up to my chest.

"You're welcome," he sincerely replied.
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Have you ever wanted something so bad that you think about it all the time?

That was me when I thought about kid's. I really wanted kids, but I was for certain that Brad was not going to fulfill my wish anytime soon because I hadn't actually told him. I had probably mentioned that I loved kids. But I left out the big detail that I dreamed about little football players and princesses running around my house in about five years.

So, I had excepted the fact that Brad was not going to give me any kids. But I heard about some job that Olivia mentioned a couple of weeks ago at a daycare. The daycare was a place for foster kids to come after school. They were in need of a couple extra workers to work there. When I heard about the job, I was interested so much that I wanted to fill out an application. But the problem is that I'd have to ask Brad to sign up.

He had been in a good mood lately so when I went up to his office to ask could I sign up, I expected a decent attitude along with a decent answer to my proposal. But obviously, that did not happen, as nothing goes how I planned. Instead, I found Brad yelling at me.

"The answer is no!" He screamed, and I flinched. What was wrong with him?

"But why? Why can't I sign up? It's a good job, and I really want it!" I exclaimed.

"No, I can provide for you. This is one of the reasons why I work. My wife does not need to have a job!" He stressed, waving his hand wildly everywhere.

"I never said you couldn't. You know what, why do you have to be so difficult? I can't do nothing," I breathed out, frustrated.

"No, the question is, 'Why do you want this job so much?' Am I not already providing enough? You should not have work. So, if you can give me a good reason why you want this job, maybe I'll consider letting you go," he replied, looking me directly in the eyes.

"I just-"

"Do not argue with me, the answer is no," he said, angrier.

"Okay! You want to know why I want the job? I want children! There, I said it. I want children and a nice big family. That's why I wanted the job, and I know what I want is always impossible for you," I said, stressed out.

"You want kids?" He asked, shocked.

"Yes," I reply with a bored look on my face.

"Okay," he finally said, "I'll give you kids. We can start trying for some right now. Let's go." After he said this, he pulled me towards the bedroom, and my heartbeat escalated.
*****
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Love, China.