Fuck.
Rage boils inside me, and I have to breathe through it or I’ll put my fist through the goddamn wall.
Once I’ve gotten ahold of my fury, I turn over and look at her. “Hey.”
She meets my gaze, hers wary, frightened, closed off. “Yes sir?” She blinks, sighing. “Yes?”
“That’s over with, for you. Never again.”
She shakes her head.
“We’re gonna do a little exercise. You down?”
She just stares at me. “What?”
“I’m gonna tell you to do something. And you’renotgonna do it. You’re gonna say, ‘Go fuck yourself, Silas.’”
Another shake of her head. “I…I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Let’s try.” I clear my throat. “Naomi, give me the remote.”
Immediately, she proffers it to me. “Yes sir.”
“Bzzzzzttt.” I make a loud buzzer sound. “Nope. Try again.”
She jumps at the buzzer sound and fumbles the remote. “I’m sorry.”
I laugh. “What are you apologizing for? The only time you ever apologize is if you fucked up. Did you fuck up?”
She goes still. “I don’t know.”
“Naomi, did you fuck up?” I keep my voice low, calm, quiet.
“N-no?”
“No, you didn’t. So don’t apologize.”
“Yes, sir.”
I laugh again. “Sir. This ain’t the fuckin’ Marine Corps, honey. I ain’t a superior officer. Don’t call me sir.”
“It’s…it’s habit, Silas.” She fiddles with the remote buttons.
“I know it is. And I’m gonna help you break it.” I wiggle my fingers at the remote. “Now. Gimme that.”
She stares at me for a long beat, and then, shaking all over, she licks her lips. “N-no?”
I grin. “Good! That was good.” I point at the TV. “Now, find something to watch, if you want. Or don’t. Take a shower. Sleep. Do whatever you want.”
“How…how do I turn it on?” She asks, her tone so hesitant and frightened it makes my heart bleed.
I sit up and reach across the space, put my hand over hers, and push the power button. “Like that.” The brush of my hand against hers causes her to suck in a sharp breath and go still again. “Sorry. I said I wouldn’t touch you.” I point at the channel button, careful to not make contact this time. “Push that one to change the channel. The one with the V-O-L on it makes it louder or quieter.”
“I see.” A pause. “And I…I can watch…anything?”
I almost laugh, because the disbelief in her voice is…adorable and painful at the same time. “Yeah, babe. Anything you want, for as long as you want.”
I get comfortable again, arm over my eyes. I hear flicks and snatches as she flips through channels slowly, sometimes watching something for a few seconds or minutes before flipping again. Game show, cooking show, sports highlights—murder documentary, nature doc, late-night infomercial—around and around. I’m almost asleep when she settles on a nature doc. David Attenborough’s voice narrates the mating ritual of a particular type of lizard or something.
