Lemming 2.4: Shocked

WARNING! Sensitive issues in this chapter!

     The Maker is pissed off. This is supposed to be the picture I'd painted of the gardener in the garden, but She'd played a different save, and that character painted this picture. Yet, it ended up in my living room! My painting is gone. Gone forever.

     Hugo comes over, and we decide to stay at my place this evening.

     "I have an apology to make," he tells me unexpectedly.
     "Huh?" I ask and smile.

     "About constantly trying to get you to move in with me," he explains.
     "Well, you're not constantly..." I say, but he doesn't look like he needed my interruption.
     "It's just...Jenny, I love you. I always have, and I can't wait to start our life together. But I've also been pushing it since you live next to Emmett. I've been apprehensive about it because I've worried you would start wanting him over me, and you've done nothing, nothing to deserve that, to deserve me thinking that about you."
      "Hugo, we're together. I would never cheat. Cheaters never win, and I want to be happy," I explain.

     "I'm not saying you'd cheat," he says, and he doesn't look annoyed as he smiles at me.
     "Then what?"
     "If you don't want to move in with me yet, why don't you move somewhere else?" he suggests.
     "I like this apartment." I get an idea. "What if you move in with me?" I don't know what made me say that. I just want Hugo to be more secure. Maybe if we live together, he'd stop feeling so worried. I wouldn't have to move out of my great apartment, and he could be happy that we're living together.

     Hope explodes behind his eyes as he asks, "Do you mean that?"
     I shrug then nod. "Yeah. We could try it."

     He quickly takes in a happy breath and kisses me...and kisses me...and kisses me. What am I doing?! I didn't want this! I've been fighting against this for weeks, and I suddenly decide to let Hugo move in with me?! How did that happen?
    I just want him to be happy.

     "I didn't start this conversation in hopes that you'd say that. I want you to know that," he says cautiously, but the light in his eyes dances with happiness.
     "I know," I say, even if I still wonder if he was trying to steer the conversation that way.
     "What made you change your mind about living together?"
     I shrug. "I don't know other than it never occurred to me that you could move in with me instead of the other way around. I didn't want to move." I hide my other feelings, deciding to act like what I said is the entire truth. It would be cruel to take back what I said and tell him I don't really want him to move in.

     He chuckles. "Well, I don't mind moving one bit if here is where you want us to be...together. I'd move to the ends of the earth for you."
     "Awwwww," I say in a really girlie way. That girlie 'awww' gets interrupted by a surprised gasp when he starts running his hand up my inner thigh.

     "I think I'm really going to like living here," he says in a sultry voice.
     "Hugo!" I gasp and squeeze my legs together.
     He laughs quietly. "What?" His hand keeps trying to go where I don't want it to go right now.
     "Quit it!" I complain as I try to move his hand. It stubbornly stays put.
     "I'm only exploring the benefits of living together...like woohoo every night," he says playfully.
     "Every night?" I ask with an iron grip on his wayward hand.
     "If I can help it," he says quickly and kisses me to stop my reply.
      He eventually gets what he wants, and I have to admit I can't complain...even if I did only want to watch a movie and cuddle.

     So, Hugo happily moves in, and I almost feel like a married couple. He kisses me every morning on his way to work; I paint then fix dinner; he comes home, and we eat; we watch a movie or play a game before going to bed and woohooing.
     They say you really get to know a person when you live with them. Hugo, plenty of times, is the same guy I've always known, someone who loves me to pieces and would do anything for me, but I also meet a part of him I don't really like. This part of him likes things just so, and he complains if things don't go like he wants them to. For instance, one day, I lost track of time and forgot to fix dinner. He didn't get 'angry' about it, but he did nothing but complain about everything until there was food on the table. Another day, I casually mentioned Emmett in conversation, and he got a strange glare to his eyes. I quickly changed the subject and learned not to talk about him. I don't like Hugo upset.
     I only rarely get a glimpse of Emmett as he comes to and from work. The rest of the time, he stays in his apartment. Sometimes, I wonder if he'll work from home and come out and sit with me while I paint like he occasionally would before, but he never does. I start to miss him.
     After I finish another painting of the secret lot, I decide to knock on his door to give it to him. He smiles brightly when he sees me, but I can't help but notice that he keeps a polite distance, more than he used to. He thanks me profusely for the painting and gives me a simple hug before making up some excuse that I should go. I get the point and leave; I need to fix dinner anyway.
     The entire time I cook dinner, I muse over Emmett's behavior. I can't help but worry he's depressed; I got a definite vibe from him that he is. It's no fun to be depressed. I remember.
     I'm startled when Hugo comes home early. I go to greet him like he likes and then tell him I need to finish dinner.

     "What did you paint today, baby? Can I see?" he asks in a leading way.
     "Oh, it wasn't anything special. I gave it away," I tell him. With that look in his eyes, I don't want to tell him I gave it to Emmett. If he didn't have that look, I wouldn't worry about it. What's wrong with giving him a painting? I still don't want him to make something of it.
     "To...your brother? Your dad maybe?" he asks, and ice shoots through my veins.
     "Hugo, what's happened to you?" I ask instead of answering his question. I miss the old you.
     "Who did you give it to?" he asks again in a stronger voice.
     "Why are you talking to me like that? Looking at me like that? I did nothing wrong, and you're acting like I did, like I'm some errant child."
     "I wanna know why you're not just telling me who you gave it to!" he yells, and I get mad.

     "Fine!" I loudly yell back. "I gave it to Emmett! There! Are you happy now?!"
     "No! Because it took me this long to get the truth out of you!" His voice gets even louder.
     "It's not a big deal! It's just a painting!"
     "It's part of our income! And you're just going to give it away?! TO HIM?! While wearing THAT?!"
     "What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's hot; I'm comfortable!" My heart hammers in my chest, and I breathe fast as I try to keep up with it.
     "What's 'wrong with it' is that it gives him the wrong idea." His voice mimics mine as he continues, "Oh Emmett, look at me in my sexy crop top!" He prances around in front of me with his hands on his hips. "Put your pasty, white hands all over me, please!"
     "Stop it," I growl and try to get him to move his fists off his hips by pulling on them. "And just so you know, he kept a very polite distance!"
     "But you didn't!" he yells, his face screwing up in his anger. His fists get off his hips and stay clenched at his sides.
     "How do you even know about this?!" I fire at him.
     "Never mind! That's not the issue here! I told you to stay away from him! He makes me crazy, and you know it! Yet you still went over there!"
     "He's our neighbor!"
     "I want to move!"
     "Not because of this!" I scream. "You know what?! You're being ridiculous! I don't have to do what you say. If you don't trust me, that's your problem, not mine."
     "Stay away from him, Jenny, and that's final!" he loudly says into my face, towering over me in an attempt to intimidate me.
     I glare up at him. "No!" I reply sternly. "And don't think you glaring at me like that is going to frighten me into submission. If I want to go over and give my neighbor a painting, I go over and do it. There's nothing you can do to stop me! Why can't you just-"
     He backhands me across the cheek, hard, very hard, forcing my head to turn with it, and I lose my balance and stumble before I make myself stand straight again. The ring on his finger gave the strike extra power. I hear myself let out a shocked noise before blood starts pounding in my ears. Beyond that, there's only the sound of my own breathing as I start feeling the pain.

     Sounding like it's coming from down a long, dark tunnel, I hear Hugo's voice. "Oh god! Jenny?" He sounds broken.
     He hit me, I think simply, not capable of a longer thought.
     He takes my hand, still trying to get my attention. "Jenny? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Baby, I'm sorry. Oh god, what have I done?"
     My cheek starts throbbing.
     Suddenly, the front door gets thrown open, and I hear Emmett asking in a panicked voice, "What's going on?!"
     Hugo sounds angry when he snarls, "Beat it, Emmett. This is none of your business." He won't let go of my hands so that I can touch my face. His voice gets directed at me now as he says pleadingly, "Jenny, it was an accident."
     "Accident my ass!" Emmett loudly says and tries to snatch my hands out of Hugo's.
     "No, Jenny, baby, listen to me-" Hugo pleads.
     I push him away. He lets me, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. He takes a step back, breathing heavily in a panicked way. I turn towards Emmett, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Hugo fist his hands and hold them on the sides of his head like he wants to beat what just happened out of his brain. I hear him whisper 'it was nothing; it was an accident' to himself over and over again.

     "What has he done to you?" Emmett quietly asks me. I don't know if he expects me to answer. He reaches up to very gently run the backs of his fingers down my throbbing cheek; I almost don't feel it at all.
     Hugo speaks up in a scared yet angry voice. "Emmett, you need to leave."
     No! I yell in my own mind, not able to find my voice to say it. I don't want Hugo to talk his way out of this. He hit me! How could he?! Tears start forming in my eyes.
     Emmett turns to Hugo to say, "I'm not the one who needs to leave."
     "I knew it!" Hugo yells. "You're cheating on me!"
     "Have you lost your mind?!" Emmett yells back. "She'd never do such a thing! How dare you stand there and accuse her of anything after what you've done?!"
      The tears spill out of my eyes, and they sting my cheek where it's tender. What just happened? Why?...Why why why?
      Hugo steps towards me and begs, "Jenny, please. I'm sorry. I lost it. Please, let's sit down and talk about this." He goes to sit in the chair. "Come here."
     No. I turn and face away from him.

     "Talk about this?!" Emmett snarls. "Nobody's talking to anybody. You're leaving if it takes me calling the cops to do it!"
     "You got nothing on me," Hugo growls.
     "Oh I don't?!" Emmett lets out and takes in quick breaths. "What about the argument I couldn't help but hear through the wall? And Jenny's cheek!"
     "Leave," I say quietly, my heart breaking.
     "Jenny-" Hugo starts to say.
     "I want you to leave." I start shaking.
     "No. Talk to me," he begs.
     "Get out!" I yell and put my face in my hands. I don't want to see Hugo's face; I don't want to see the man I'd fallen in love with looking so panicked that he hit me and hurt that I'm asking him to leave.
     "I didn't mean to! It was an accident! Please! You've got to understand that!" He gets up and grasps my elbows.
     I snatch myself away, also uncovering my face in the process. "Don't touch me!" I scream at him. Then, I see what I didn't want to see: the awful pain in his eyes.
     "I love you," he whispers.
     I start bawling and simultaneously pushing on his chest. "Leave! Get out of my apartment!"
     His face collapses, and he takes several steps back, letting me push him.
     "Go!" I scream at him and push him out the door. Emmett follows him, I guess to make sure he leaves.

     They have a quieter argument on the front porch, but I don't hear what's said as I stand in the middle of my living room in a daze. Everything looks more vibrant...in a scary way like from a movie when they'd do freaky camera tricks. I turn my head, and the room takes its time moving to my new view of it, leaving movement lines in its wake.
      A strange noise comes from somewhere, some kind of wailing, and it gets louder.
     Hugo is... No... It's... But... Who?...What now? I can't. How?
     I don't know. I break down into sobs and curl up on the floor. Emmett comes in after a little bit and tries to get me up, and I start screaming, afraid of what will happen if he touches me.
     "Jenny! It's okay," he says, trying to calm me down, but it doesn't work. I keep screaming as everything constantly changes colors around me. I have to get away: I know that much. Emmett can't touch me. No!

     The next thing I know, Daddy is here, and he's helping me to bed. I hear Justin talking to Emmett in the kitchen, saying he'll sleep in the living room tonight, Justin that is. I get a deathgrip on Daddy's shirt so he won't leave, and he ends up sleeping next to me, making the boogeyman go away.

     I do a lot of sleeping. Once, I wake up because I can hear Daddy yelling. It sounds like he yells at Hugo because I think I hear his voice in between Daddy's. I stay on my bed, curled up into a ball, while I worry that Daddy is going to kill him. A few hours, I think, later, Justin comes in and mumbles to me that Hugo wants his clothes, so they're going to burn them. He leaves out the back door, headed to my backyard.
     Daddy wants me to move back in with him, but I don't want to. This is my place! I don't want to leave. I refuse to do anything anymore that I haven't decided on my own to do. When I tell him that, he backs down. I'm so relieved.

     Emmett visits a lot, looking relieved that I don't freak out anymore because he's him. Still, I always do my best to hide my face from him every time he comes over. The pained look in his eyes every time he sees my healing bruise tears my heart out. I can tell he tries not to look because he can probably guess I don't want him seeing, so he makes an effort not to stare.
     Like today, he sits facing away from me and talking about anything from what sports team my dad is going on and on about, trying to get him and Justin into it, to the weather outside.
     "I think I want to go outside today," I say quietly, and he turns around in surprise. I've hardly left my apartment. Well, I've hardly left my room.
     "Um, yeah, okay. Like I said, it's a pretty day outside if you want to."
     I actually smile. Then, I work on sitting up. I haven't had the best eating habits lately, so my head swims for a second, making me off-balance.

     He sees me wobble as I scoot across the bed. "Are you okay?" I think he asks in a broad-spectrum kind of way, but he uses my being off-balance as an excuse. He looks like he's ready to stand up and give me more space at a second's notice.
     "I will be," I tell him with a tiny smile.