"Of course I do!" - I reply in a shrill voice, realizing what I have just said only after few seconds, when his faces passes from angry to serious immediately.
My eyes widen slightly as I dive into his. He looks at me so intensely that it seems to me that he is digging into my soul with that indecipherable expression.
I do not know why I remain silent, while his expression hardens slowly : he clenches his jaw while his gaze seems to want to pierce me.
I shudder at that vision, but I keep standing still as he gets close enough to be two inches from my face.
I shrink against the wall, even though I try tohold his gaze:
"Then you won't have it from me."
A slap would have hurt less, because those words strike me so much that I don't even have the courage to shout at him.
We keep staring at each other, his gaze pierces every single cell of my body, while I try to understand it with mine.
But it is impossible for me, it seems that there is a wall between us.
... you want have it from me.
He was so sure of himself as he said it, so much that I don't know whether to get mad or to worry: to worry because maybe I have ruined everything.
And I don't even know why!
What's wrong with wanting to start a family?
Why does it strike him so much that I want him by my side as a husband and not just as a boyfriend?
Since we started living together I have seen something change in him: he goes out often in the evening, but not to go to clubs or parties, but rather to go out with a few friends or go to the gym.
I thought our relationship had strengthened ...
His breath collides with my skin, as I suddenly lose the courage to keep looking him in the eye, then I lower my head and flee from his arms perplexed.
I hear him swear from behind, but I don't go back, on the contrary, I go to the refrigerator and let him leave the house after few seconds, leaving me alone in the empty house, with my eyes that start burning for how much I wam to cry right now.
... You won't have it from me.
***
I have always loved cooking, often because it distracts me, other times because I like to know what other people think of the dishes I invent, even if I don't dedicate myself to this hobby that much, but today I got burned three times trying to cook a simple steak and some fries.
Among other things, I don't know who am I doing all this for: Juliet had an afternoon theater course, so she will be back shortly, but in any case she will eat only the salad, as usual.
But Alex hasn't come back yet and, even if it's not new, I keep looking at my watch and wondering where he is.
Maybe I exaggerated, maybe I shouldn't have filled him with complaints.
And then it was all the result of my anger: I don't care that he doesn't ask me all the nonsense I told him to, because we talk to each other with our eyes.
I just need to look at him to understand that Alex cares about me, but I had to think about it first, before opening my mouth and even telling him that I want to marry him.
While these thoughts are whirling through my head I prepare the table to make them find everything ready when they'll return: Juliet has explicitly threatened me not to go and pick her up tonight, but I don't even trust her friends, even if they are children of almost ten years.
After taking my coat I leave the house and slam the door behind me.
The garden we have in front of the house is the thing that convinced me to buy this house: I decided to fill it with rose plants everywhere, of all colors, scattered everywhere, without a precise order and without trees in between, as I dreamed of as a child.
I planted roses with my neighbor and John, while Alex enjoyed the sunshine of our first summer in Australia from the porch.
I see some of the flowers about to blossom, but before reaching my car, I am distracted by the gate opening and Alex's car parked in front of it, blocking the exit of my car in the garden.
My heart starts beating so fast that I start thinking about finding a place to hide myself.
He gets out of the car, while I look at him sideways: I try to understand from his moves how his mood is and I notice that he has not drunk, which calms me a lot, knowing that he hasn't done anything dangerous till now, I hope.
I see him heading to my side with the same expression he left me with hours ago, while I head towards his car, passing him with trembling legs in order move his car and lead the way, but without talking to him when I notice he doesn't even watch me.
As soon as I enter my car, I return to look over his shoulder, until he slams the door of the house behind him and I lose any sight of him.
I notice that luckily he has left the keys in the car as always, but next to them my attention is captured by his phone which signals the arrival of a new message.
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