Episode Twenty-one

1087 Words
In a small apartment... Helen paced around the living room, her eyes occasionally drifting to the television where the news about Mr. Bayou’s death still flashed across the screen. It was a rare moment of satisfaction for her. The successful completion of her first task for Delilah gave her a sense of power she hadn’t felt in a long time. She had gathered all the necessary details about Mr. Bayou, confirmed he was Mrs. Gaga’s cheating husband, and now he was gone. Helen smiled to herself, briefly savoring the victory. That smile quickly faded when she heard the unmistakable sound of the front door creaking open, followed by heavy, uneven footsteps. Her heart sank as she turned toward the door. Jonah was home. Jonah staggered through the entrance, reeking of alcohol, his shirt untucked and wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot, and he muttered confusedly under his breath. Helen’s disheartened expression mirrored the way she felt every time she saw him like this. It had become an all-too-familiar sight ever since Zoe was born. Jonah, once a loving and attentive husband, had changed drastically after they had their daughter. As he brushed past her, nearly knocking into the small table by the door, Helen shut the door softly behind him, trying to contain her growing frustration. She crossed her arms and turned to face him. "Where have you been, Jonah?" Her voice was steady but edged with anger. "I went to your workplace today. Your coworkers told me you haven’t been there for three days." Jonah barely glanced at her, his expression lazy and unconcerned. He scoffed, rolling his eyes like she was nothing more than an annoyance. "How is it your business where I go?" His words were slurred, his tone dripping with indifference. Helen’s brow furrowed in disbelief. "It is my business, Jonah. You’re my husband, and you’ve been lying to me about where you’ve been going every morning!" Jonah laughed bitterly, stumbling into the living room and dropping onto the couch. "I don’t have to explain anything to you. You don’t own me." He looked at her with a smirk that only deepened her frustration. Helen’s fists clenched at her sides. She was tired of this—tired of the lies, the disrespect, and the man Jonah had become. "You think you can just leave this house, disappear for days, and I won’t ask questions?" Her voice trembled with pent-up anger. "I deserve to know what’s going on with you. I’m your wife!" Jonah sat up straighter, his eyes darkening with a sudden flash of anger. "You’re always asking questions, always nagging me! I’m sick of it!" His voice rose, matching the growing aggression in his body language. "I don’t owe you anything, Helen. Not an explanation, not my time—nothing!" Helen’s heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t back down. "You owe me the truth, Jonah. What have you been doing? Why haven’t you been at work?" Jonah stood up abruptly, swaying slightly as he approached her. His face twisted with fury. "You’re suffocating me with your constant questioning! Can’t you just leave me alone for once?!" He jabbed a finger in her direction, his voice booming through the small apartment. Helen took a step back, but her resolve remained. "I’m concerned because you’ve been avoiding me and Zoe. You’re lying to us. You think I haven’t noticed?" Jonah’s face reddened, his expression shifting from anger to something more dangerous. "You’re paranoid, Helen. Always assuming the worst about me." He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "Maybe you should look in the mirror before you start pointing fingers." Helen’s eyes locked on his. "I have every reason to worry, Jonah. You’re hiding something from me. And I won’t stop until I find out what it is." Jonah’s sneer deepened, his lips curling with disdain. "You always have to make everything dramatic, don’t you? Acting like the world revolves around you and your feelings. Why can’t you just let me live my life without your constant nagging?" Helen’s patience finally snapped. "Because I’m your wife!" Her voice rose, her hands trembling as she stood her ground. "And Zoe is your daughter! You have responsibilities to this family that you’ve been ignoring!" Jonah’s eyes blazed with anger, and he took another threatening step toward her. "You want honesty, Helen?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Fine. Here’s the truth—you’re nothing but a burden to me now. You and Zoe both. I’m tired of this life, and I’m tired of you." Helen’s heart sank, but she refused to let his words defeat her. "You don’t mean that, Jonah. You’re drunk, and you don’t know what you’re saying." Jonah’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist tightly, making her wince. "Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean." His voice was a snarl, his grip tightening. "You think you can control me? Make me stay in this miserable life? You’re delusional." Helen’s voice trembled, but she stared him down. "I’m not trying to control you, Jonah. I just want you to be the man you used to be. The man who cared about his family." Jonah shoved her wrist away, nearly causing her to stumble. "That man is gone," he spat, his face inches from hers. "And if you keep pushing me, you’ll regret it." Helen’s eyes filled with a mix of fear and fury. "I won’t let you threaten me in my own home, Jonah." Jonah scoffed, turning away from her. "Threaten? You don’t even know what a real threat looks like." The room fell silent, save for the ragged sound of Jonah’s breathing. Helen stood there, her chest heaving as she fought to keep her composure. Jonah may have changed, but she wasn’t going to let him walk all over her anymore. "Go sleep off whatever is in your system," she said coldly, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside her. "We’ll talk when you’re sober." Jonah didn’t respond. He staggered toward the bedroom, muttering under his breath as he slammed the door behind him. Helen stood frozen in the living room, her mind racing. How had it come to this? How had the man she once loved turned into this angry, distant stranger? As her eyes drifted back to the television, where the news continued to play, a grim thought crossed her mind. If she could work for Delilah and succeed, maybe—just maybe—she could find a way to deal with Jonah too.

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