15

Jem knelt beside her bed the next morning. She sat still, trying to focus her mind on prayer but no words came to her. Nothing but...

Jemmy, baby

A tingle ran through her insides. She kept replaying all that had happened, over and over. His hands, pulling and tightening around her. His voice in her ear, their stolen breaths.  

Jemmy, baby

And then how it ended. 

He pulled away, still holding her in his lap, "we should stop, Jemmy."

She didn't know what to say. The heat swarming around her wouldn't thin out, and her swollen lips ached for more. What should they stop for? Had he had enough? How could this feel like enough to him?

She set her feet on the ground, "Okay."

"Out, satan, out."

~

After her morning prayer, Jem went down to the kitchen while the sun was still creeping up the horizon. A warm orange light flooded the room and she opened the cupboard for cereal and a bowl. After getting milk and a spoon, she sat at the island and poured her early breakfast. 

She was only on her second bite when she heard footsteps entering the room.

"Dad?" She perked up. She used to wake up early every morning and see him off to work. She didn't know why she stopped since it always made the start of her day nice. 

"Huh? Oh, hey ma' girl." His voice was drowsy and even with a clean-shaven face and combed hair, Jem could still see the mess he hid beneath it all. He scooped his hand into the cereal box and tossed the collection in his mouth.

"Your mom told me we're having dinner at the Taylor's tonight," he winks, "You very fond of the boy, Ben?"

Shame creeped it's way inside her chest and she swallowed a spoon of cereal, hard.

"Er-- yeah," she looked down at her bowl. How could God ever forgive her for what she had done?

Her dad sat on the stool beside her, lowering his face to her level, "I know your mom wants this to happen but... I just hope you aren't just doing this for her sake. And I get how it might feel like everything is on your shoulders, like mom's gonna somehow hate you if you do something she might not choose for you but, well--- a parent can always forgive their child, but some years from now, if you make a decision you never would've chosen for yourself, you won't just need to forgive her."

She felt tears forming in her eyes but she refused to let them fall, nodding her head in neutral acknowledgement. 

"Alright, sweetheart, I gotta go but I'll see you tonight," he winked and walked out the front door. 

~

Jem sat in front of her vanity mirror, toying with a strand of hair.

"You done admiring yourself?" Becca entered their bedroom with a glare.

Jem plastered on a tight smile, "Yep. Let's go."

~

When they arrived at the Taylor's, Jem was the last to walk up the porch steps. Her parents had hired a sitter for the littles, save for Becca, and it pained Jem that her presence couldn't be muffled by their chaos this time. 

Her mom knocked on the door and a second later, they heard footsteps and the handle rattled to an open.

Mrs. Taylor stood aside for them to enter, "Welcome! We're so glad you could make it to dinner tonight."

Jem smiled faintly and quickly said her thanks before following the rest of them into the living room.

A short glance around the room nearly made her jump.

Her family was all settled.

...Owen was only a few feet from where she stood, in the chair beside Ben, where he sat on a couch. With one empty spot. It was clearly meant for her but it felt so wrong to sit between both him and Owen. God must be mad with her. How could he not be? 

Before anyone could notice her pause, she took her place next to Ben, keeping a few safe inches between them. And before she could adjust to the discomfort she was already in, Misty walked in and sat with Owen, so close that she was nearly sitting in his lap. Jem felt nauseous.

"Hey you guys! It is so good to see you all again," Misty beamed, "I know you guys used to have dinner quite often together so I thought it would be nice to do somethin again. Though I do need to apologize to my mother in law for putting all the work on her." Mrs. Taylor just smiled kindly in return.

Why hadn't it crossed her mind that Owen would be here tonight? Of course he would, he is a Taylor. It's not like marriage can change that. She cringed at the thought. 

She was just thankful for the dim lighting so that it could hide the red patches beginning to form on her neck and face. 

The families conversed but Jem could only focus on the couple sat next to her. Owen rubbing his thumb on the back of his wife's hand. Her looking at him every so often when something about his childhood was mentioned. Jem could see the tenderness in her gaze and a twinge of annoyance choked her mood. Misty didn't deserve to hear about his past, those didn't belong to her. She wasn't even around to witness any of it. But Jem was. She'd known him her entire life and even though she was younger than Misty, it was still longer than she knew Owen. What right did she have to feel anything about a part of him she never knew?

Jem tried to catch Owen's eye several times but to no avail. It was like he didn't even notice she was there. She tried talking to Ben but he was also more interested in hearing about Owen's childhood. She was beginning to think that every person in this room was only here to see Owen, and as much as she hated the attention being on herself, or the blatant reason for this meal--- Her courtship to Ben--- She hated even more, the idea that she wasn't the only one fighting for his attention.

So she sat back. 

When dinner was ready, they all took their seats at the table. Becca on her right, Ben across from her, and Owen to her left. The larger group meant that some chairs from other rooms of the house had to be brought in, and they were packed so tightly that Jem could just about feel every shift in the people beside her. It couldn't have been worse, she thought. 

Only as they were sitting did Owen pay her any thought.

"Hi, Jemmy," he said in a quiet voice that she doubted anyone but her could hear.

She didn't respond or even acknowledge him.

When it was time to pray, she felt Owen's knuckles brush against her thigh as he reached under the tablecloth to grab her hand. She nearly gasped in surprise until he lifted it up, and she grabbed Becca's hand in her right. More flashes of last night started to swarm her thoughts. 

His hands, his lips, his voice... She could barely take it. Then he dropped her hand and she snapped back. 

She saw him wipe his palm against his pant leg. Only the right one. His pinky brushed her leg as he pulled it back up.

The adults started talking again and with Misty now sat across from Owen, Jem had a near direct view of her and every look she shared with him. More nausea hit her but she composed herself again. When Owen laughed, his shirt sleeve brushed against her, shaking her so slightly it ached. 

After some time, Jem managed to tune everything out again until voices sounded like a distant crowd in a shopping mall. She ate her food mechanically and tasted each bite without sensing any distinction of flavor between them. 

Suddenly, a pinch on her thigh broke her from the trance-like state. She looked in shock to her left but he didn't look back, letting the backs of his two fingers soften against the sore spot he'd created. He brushed them up and down, only slightly so that his upper arm wouldn't move. If they weren't in front of everyone, Jem would have told him to quit it. 

Ever so slowly, she grabbed his two fingers in her fist and forcefully pushed them away, but before they lost contact he twisted his hand around so his thumb pressed against her inner wrist. It was firm at first but as she relaxed, he began to loosen his grip.