No words were spoken during the dinner, but at some point I. felt Jude's foot softly on mine. I nearly flinched again, but I understood that it couldn't be Thomas'; the angle didn't match up. With this discovery, I could hold myself back from reacting strongly and alarming my husband.
I was unsure what Jude wanted to tell me with that gesture, inappropriate as ever, but I thought he was either trying to soothe me, or warn me to stay put. No matter what he meant, it helped somehow.
When I had sat down at the table, I habitually slid my feet out of my slippers, placing them on top. And he apparently did the same before initiating contact with me. So, I could feel Jude's body warmth through both of our socks, and that, together with me folding the serviette, the new little bed for my marble, calmed me down.
Until Thomas stood up and prompted me to do the same, Jude didn't take his feet back, as if he wanted to stop me from following his father, which forced me to slip away, to free myself.
I didn't look at Jude and followed his father; the corridors had the same length as before, but suddenly, they were too short. The unknown that would follow made it scary.
While Thomas went showering, not having said a word, much to my relief, I sat on the floor before my drawer. Taking the napkin out, I shook it before folding it again beautifully. Placing the marble on it, in the middle of the drawer, I let my other treasure surround it. Satisfaction flooded my mind when seeing everything I owned.
Watching a bit longer before slowly closing the drawer so that everything stayed where I put it, I laid myself on the bed, the knife I additionally pocketed to my safety was moved to the same place the fork had been; in the slit between the mattress and the headboard.
Being ready for the worst case, this time going for the sharpest knife meant for the meat course, I laid on my back and closed my eyes, feigning sleep.
Hearing the shower stop made me nervous, but Thomas didn't react much to the lights I had put out. When he came out, he went to his side of the bed, soon falling asleep. I waited, not having the guts to follow suit.
After a timespan between an hour and a few hours in which I had stared into the darkness, Thomas moved to my side, roping me in his arms. I let him have his way, but I made sure that my hand was near the headboard, as I was sideways pressed against his body. His hand moved inside my shirt again but stopped on my stomach, which was at least better than the alternative.
I went through my options again. If a relationship between two sane adults morphed into this kind of suffocation, then it was time to end it. At the very very very least, a lengthy conversation would be necessary.
However, this dude holding me was not sane. Conversations with a maniac were crossed out for now. So I could only try to escape again, hoping that the bug I had found was the only one, and be ready to receive whatever punishment would follow if I got caught. Or I really just thrust a knife in his eye and exchange one problem with another.
The two situations in which Thomas went violent were first, when I had changed the substitute's body trait, and second, when his 'mark' was covered up and the substitute followed his command.
Looking at his behavior, there was a good chance that if I played it nicely, seduced him and performed the infatuated wife, my safety would be guaranteed more than it is now. But that... I really couldn't bring myself to play in his hands.
Another try to escape, however, would probably be worth the risk. I don't think the punishment would fall out badly, or would have fallen out that badly if I hadn't changed my hair color.
In my old workplace, when the kids went on a school trip, the teachers and more importantly, the gym teacher, could take part. Tomorrow I would have to find out if that was the case at this school as well, and if there was coincidentally a school trip planned in the near future.
The door opened silently, and I saw Jude walking in naturally, nearly strolling, albeit in absolute silence.
He stopped again by my side of the bed, but instead of standing high and tall and looking down on me, he crouched to my side, his arms propped on his thighs, his fingers entwined.
Our eyes had met the moment he entered, and the contact was not broken even for a second. I had the illusion that this situation had nearly turned normal because he was crouching down at my level.
His face was again unreadable; there was absolutely no fathomable reason for him to be here. I just stared back, my mind still standing, but the terror I felt the first time he did this had not set in.
The standoff was interrupted by my cat jumping on the bed from the spot where Jude was. My eyes lit up; it had been long since it had taken the initiative to come to me.
My hand wandered to it, scratching its head; it started purring, the sound letting my whole body relax. I ignored Jude, my cat having my full attention because it rarely showed itself so active since being here. Maybe it felt that this house was unsafe as well and remained under the bed obediently, heading to my warning.