“You don’t want my parents to come over, do you?” You questioned seeing your husband’s uncomfortable state

With a simple shake of his head from side to side told the harsh truth.

“Why?” You loaded single worded question in an attempt to understand his side of the story.

“Well…” JB sighed, wondering how to put this lightly in order not to offend you or your family, “They always try to change things, especially when we like things just the way that they are…”

“When have they tried to do that?” You sat up a little taller, placing a bookmark between the pages of your chapter book.

“Remember at the wedding, they tried to change your flower arrangements, your cake design and not to mention all of the bridesmaid dresses?” JB gave a few examples. Knowing, very well, your stance on the issue from hearing about it for months on end afterwards.

“That was all under the stress of a wedding though…” You tried to reason with him, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, knowing very well that there was more to emotions than just stress.

“Alright then…” JB nodded as he stepped closer to you, easing himself down on a bar stool backing the island. “What about the time we wanted to go to the ocean, they changed your mind and you suddenly didn’t want to go after a year of planning and begging me to take you.”

“But that was different…” You told him, coy smile curled on your lips as you shook your head from side to side trying to convince yourself otherwise.

“Alright, then what about the time I asked you to be my girlfriend. You went home and told your parents how I asked you and they got angry, then I had to ask you again the “proper” way… more like their way.” JB had more than a few handfuls of these examples to pass out.

“So you don’t want them to come over?” You rounded back to the original question

“No, I don’t want them to change your mind, to change how we have our place. It should be our place, not their place that we live in.” JB began to grow in passion for his side that became the beginnings of a disagreement.

“They just want to come over and see the place” You told him, retracting your voice from the conversation.

“What are they going to think when they come here, huh? That we need to get better cutlery or plates? That our style doesn’t suit theirs and we have to change our couches?” JB began to point to various things that your parents could possibly point out.

“They wouldn’t do that…” You defended, your voice began to raise to combat JB’s argument.

“Are you sure about that?” JB posed, his eyes meeting yours. Doubt began to bubble in your mind as did emotions.

“Are you saying that my parents aren’t welcomed here?” You answered his question with one of your own questions, wondering where he stands.

Swallowing hard, JB kept his gaze with you as you stood up, knowing his answer without a single word.

“This is unbelievable” You muttered under your breath, grabbing your phone, you stood up and trotted over to the front door.

“______ what are you doing?” JB questioned in haste, unsure what you were doing.

“If my parents aren’t welcomed here, then I am not either” You stated your reasoning while you slipped your feet into a pair of sneakers. Not bothering to tie the sneakers, you grabbed a hoodie from the coat as you glanced over to see JB slipping off of his stool with a quickened pace towards you.

“Don’t do this, that isn’t what I meant!” JB tried to reason with you as he watched your fingers twist the lock and grasp the handle of the front door.

“Then what did you mean JB?” You flipped around, looking into his eyes, he again tried to formulate words while his tongue fumbled around in his mouth. “I guess you have nothing to say for yourself then.”

“_____ please, don’t leave. Where are you going to go for the night?” JB quickly changed tactics to try and have you think practically and rationally.

“I can stay at a friends, why would you care, you don’t care about my parents so you don’t care about me” You spat before flinging the door open and hastily making your exit.

“_______! _______!” JB tried to catch you before you escaped out the door, however, the door slammed before he could catch it.

“Don’t follow me!” You called through the door. JB’s hand wrapped around the handle on his side, trying to open it with all his might.

Holding the handle on the opposite side of the door, you felt his sheer power trying to pry the door open as you continued to use your body weight to restrict him and the door from opening. Hearing a frustrated groan roar from the other side of the door, a vibration traveled down the grain of the wood traveling through your body now sitting against the door and the door frame.

Silence swept over the two of you, taking this as your chance you stumble to your feet and quickly skip down the flight of stairs before you sprinted down the street under the flickering street lamps.