The Pain of Womanhood

For a while, John was satisfied with flipping through the local channels. 

Sophia noticed that he kept stopping at news channels and she wondered if it would get overwhelming. She didn't want to mother him and rip the remote out of his hand or anything, but she kept an eye on his expressions as he listened to current events. 

There were details about mafia activity, homelessness, car thefts, and all the other things that seemed usual to her but might not for him. 

When he changed the channel again, Sophia focused on the cooking. 

With her hair tied up in a ponytail, she put an apron on and washed her hands so she could get to cooking. 

There was a dish she knew well from a friend who owned a halal food truck. It was a deliciously spiced one-pot chicken where you cooked the turmeric rice in what was left after cooking the chicken. It wasn't spicy but it was well-seasoned. She hoped that he would like it. It would make her life easier if he remained neutral or, even better, happy. 

The chair John occupied was angled toward the TV in the corner of the room but it also gave him a view into the open kitchen that Sophia was cooking in. He started watching her cooking more than whatever was playing on the TV. 

Sophia's heart was entirely in the meal she prepared. A small smile remained on her lips and she occasionally hummed as she stirred ingredients in the pot or cut some of the vegetables. 

Her scent was stuck in his head. 

He wondered if there was something wrong with him for allowing her to burrow herself under his skin when he didn't know a single thing about her. A big part of him believed that she was part of his life even before his accident. There was no other option for him.

John reminded himself to wear a neutral expression. He didn't like whenever she looked at him with any sort of fear or cautiously treated him as if he was going to explode at any minute. 

He was just confused. Everything was confusing. She was the most confusing. 

Yet each time he searched his head for an answer, it felt like there was a black screen standing in the way of the truth. 

Lost in contemplation, his eyes were unfocused and he wasn't looking at anything in particular. 

Knocking him out of his train of thought, he heard a gasp from the kitchen and he noticed Sophia doubled over as if she were in pain. She held her lower stomach and grimaced. 

John quickly stood up and moved forward. He was unsure of how to comfort another person, his hand hovered over her back, wondering if he should touch her or if she would hate it. 

"Are you alright?" he asked. 

It was happening again. 

The strange cramping Sophia had the night before returned. 

When John approached her, it only got worse and she could smell faint spearmint again. She wanted to pull him closer and push him away all at the same time. She tried to stand up straight and braced herself on the countertop. 

"It just happens periodically," she muttered. "Don't worry about me. It'll pass soon." 

There was an alarmed expression on his face. 

Not only was he genuinely concerned, but he could smell the sugary sweet scent that emanated from her. It seemed to have gotten worse.

He was glued in place for a moment, staring at her with wide eyes. 

There was an instinctual urge lighting up in his mind, telling him to press on. To go closer, and to make himself known to her. Yet with his lack of foundational knowledge of himself, he didn't know why the urge kicked in. 

While he was caught in a pause, Sophia stood up straight after taking a deep breath. 

"See? I'm fine," she said. "I knew it would go away." 

She was lying. It hadn't vanished completely but she could finish their meal regardless. 

Going out on a limb, Sophia gently pressed on John to get him out of the kitchen. Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her wrist and stared at her with wide eyes. 

He felt himself running on autopilot again. His reactions weren't his own, they were somebody else's - someone he had been a week ago. If he was once someone who could do as he pleased, he wasn't that person at that moment. 

"Ouch," Sophia uttered and pulled her wrist from him. 

It wasn't the first time he had grabbed her like that and the momentary peace she had was shattered. She realized she needed to be a little bit more careful around him while he was unpredictable. She felt bad for him but not bad enough to live in a state of discomfort for him. 

She backed away.

"I'm sorry," John apologized. "I don't understand why I did that." 

Sophia shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. There was nothing more she could do except finish their meal. 

All that was left was eating together in an uncomfortable silence that seemed to have gotten worse since the random incident in the kitchen. She didn't know how long she could live like that. 

John knew that he had messed up after he grabbed her wrist and failed to make her feel better. He felt like a dog testing the boundaries and being disciplined. He wondered if she would be more pleased if he talked to her. 

"This is very good," John complimented her. "Thank you for cooking for me." 

His words were almost robotic and she realized he was forcing himself to say those things. Despite the situation, she couldn't keep from smiling. 

"I guess it's my job as your guardian for now," she responded. "Now I'll clean the dishes." 

"Should I help you?" he asked, genuinely wondering what the procedure was for the situation. 

"Don't worry," she said. "Make it up to me when you're not healing." 

As Sophia took the plates and stepped towards the large island in the center of her kitchen, she heard buzzing and looked down at her phone to see what was happening. She saw the word "Grant" flash across the screen and her green eyes widened involuntarily. For so long, she had been silently pleading for him to reach out to her.

Yet she felt resistant to answer at all. 

She knew that Grant had power over her that would make her act irrationally and she didn't want to alarm John too much. Many of their conversations resulted in her being unnecessarily upset. 

She set one of the plates down so she could silence the call. It was something she was going to have to deal with later. Grant wasn't exactly known for his patience even if he was sweet normally. 

With John back on the couch watching TV and Sophia was almost done with all of the dishes, there was commotion at their front door that caught the attention of both in the room. 

Ethan walked in with a gym bag over his shoulder. He wore a blue tank top and black basketball shorts. It was clear he had just dealt with a client and was coming home for a break. 

The moment his eyes landed on the company they had, the gym bag fell off of his shoulder. 

His grey-blue eyes landed on Sophia. 

"What the hell, Soph!?" Ethan exclaimed.