TW!! MENTIONS OF: eating disorders and bulimia
I make it home with Ophelia in the back seat snoring. I didn't expect her to be so tired after today. After we got lunch, and I finished with my client, I took Ophelia to an outskirt city by Richmond. The place was dense in trees and forests, and there was a small pond that I planned to take her fishing in the future.
I taught her how to skip rocks, and we found a tire swing. She begged to go on it, and after inspecting it to be up to Ophelia's standards, I pushed her on it for what felt like hours. And every time my muscles began to strain, I would just listen to the girls giggles and happiness and would dull out the pain.
I was addicted. Obsessed with this little girl. And all of it was not enough. I wanted to be there for her in every stage of her life. I wanted to show up when no one else will. I wanted to be there for her first school dance, and when she graduates.
And I wanted to hold Juliette while all these moments happened.
I swore I never wanted kids, that they were always sticky some how and they were loud and invasive and kind of annoying. But no kid is like Ophelia. And hell, maybe Ophelia could be a big sister one day. She tells me all the time how she always wants to ask her mom for a little sister or brother.
Everything is so new I don't want to scare Juliette with the concept, especially since I haven't even taken her on a proper date yet.
"Wake up, Philly," I say, picking her up in one arm, while also holding the box of pizza in the other. I told Juliette that I'd bring dinner and she shouldn't have to worry about it.
She told me she was going to be home late, so I stayed out with Ophelia longer than I planned—and it seemed to not be long enough since Jules car wasn't in the driveway.
I dropped off a few stuff in my house, letting Ophelia lay on my couch, while taking a quick shower and changing into grey sweats and a tight black shirt. Juliette was still not home, so I went over to her house—with Ophelia and the pizza obviously.
I waited another five minutes before finally texting her. She told me she was going to be home in about thirty minutes, that she was helping her skating partner on his routine for his competition tomorrow.
Usually, I wouldn't consider myself a jealous man, but I was jealous of a lot of things that brought me away from Juliette. I felt more possessive actually.
It felt like the longer I waited to truly show her how much I loved her, the more obstacles that came between us.
While waiting, I stress cleaned. I cleaned the bedrooms first since I didn't want to wake Ophelia up while she napped in the living room. I cleaned all the bathrooms, and once I finished Ophelia woke. She took her bath, while I helped her get dressed for bed and dinner.
I cleaned the kitchen. The living room. Every spot of the house was spotless. At one point I was about to go to my house and clean if she didn't come home. I didn't like the idea of her staying out so late in downtown Richmond. It was a relatively safe city, but I didn't care.
Ophelia started to complain about being hungry, so I fed her a slice, while I waited on the porch for Juliette to get home. Ophelia sat next to me on the bright porch that I thought caused a migraine the first time I saw it, but now I was kind of liking it. We both waited with Ophelia slowly nibbling at the pepperoni pizza, while I ate the pieces of pepperoni she picked off.
After about five minutes, Juliette's car pulled up. My heart seemed to reach a normal speed at the sight. But what I saw didn't keep my heart rate at it's normal pace for long.
"Ophelia how about you go inside and draw a little while I talk to mommy," I tell her, and she walks inside, leaving the blue plate outside.
Juliette's exited her car, and even in the dark I saw her usually ivory creamy skin was pale white. She grabbed the roof of her car as if she needed it to stabilize her.
I practically ran to her, grabbing her so won't fall. "Hey, it's me," I whisper when she nearly collapsed into my arms. "Jules, what's wrong?" I attempted to sound neutral and mask my worries so she won't start to panic.
"Nothing. I'm fine. I think I hurt my knee thats all," she muttered, her words barely coherent. I looked down, worry taking over my body to see if she broke her knee or what happened. But other than the pale skin complexion, she was perfectly fine.
I helped her inside but she stopped me with whatever strength she had left. I knew exactly what she was going to say, so I stopped her. "She's in her room," I explain.
We walk inside and I set her down on the couch. I grabbed her a glass of water and a few slices of pizza and the teriyaki broccoli I decided to cook while stressing about her not being home.
She began to eat the broccoli, practically ignoring the pizza. "Is there any pieces without the sauce?" She asks. I was thrown off since this was one of her favorite things to eat. She had bottles of this sauce stocked up in her fridge. But I wasn't going to deny her, so I grabbed her the pieces I made for myself that had no sauce.
She ate slowly from that, mainly sipping her water. Once I felt she was somewhat ok, even though I still worried about how slow she was eating, I began to question. "Want an ice pack for you knee? Or your heat pack?" I was definitely not a doctor.
"Biofreeze and ice pack," she commented, and I ran to get her the things. I took my time hoping she'd eat more or she didn't have an audience, but when I came back, the original plate I prepared her was pushed to the edge of the coffee table, far away from her.
I titled my head. "You don't want pizza? I thought you like cold pizza? Did you want a different topping? Or maybe a new meal?" I hated seeing her like this.
"I already ate too much, I can't eat this late," she explained quietly, and it felt like my blood was going to boil.
"I'm not going to force you to eat, but can I know what you ate that is considered 'too much'?" I ask slowly.
"I had that pasta, and it was dumb because it was way too many calories. And breakfast. I think I'm going to skip breakfast next time," she spoke in a monotone voice. Juliette was like she was on autopilot.
"Juliette," I whisper, grabbing her hands softly, rubbing them with my thumb. "Why do you think that? Did something happen today?" I'm thinking back to our conversation on the phone. She sounded perfectly fine, happy and excited.
But this wasn't her. "My coach told me I've been gaining to much weight, and she's right. She said I could lose my chance at gold if I don't lose it. So all I have to do is lose weight and just gain it all back after the Olympics."
I hated her fucking plan.
"Your coach can rightfully fuck herself. Don't listen to what anyone has to say about your body, it is your and you should love every bit of it. You can't waste your time worrying about if you gaining weight or not." I tried to calm the boiling rage that was turning my face hot. I'll go to the depths of hell to protect this girl.
"Tell me what you did after she said that?" I said, practically begging to know how this girl got to this condition.
She sighed. "I ended up practicing for an extra hour afterwards to burn off what I ate for lunch, and when that didn't work, I threw everything up. But it felt like my breakfast was still there, like I could physically feel it, so I continued to work out. I went to the gym for another hour. Then came home after making my work out and eating schedule in the car." Tears misted her eyes, and I nearly broke down seeing her like this.
"You're taking a break tomorrow since Elliot has the competition. I'll spend the whole day with you, take Ophelia to her moms, or a friends house." I explained.
"I can't Theo. She is right," she pleaded.
"No, she is not right. That is wrong, Juliette. You can't do this to yourself, it's practically suicide. You're a high performance athlete, you can seriously get hurt if you don't eat properly," I explain.
And Ophelia. What's she going to do if she sees her mother like this. But I can't tell her this. She has probably already thought about it.
"If you feel sick right now, I'm not going to make you eat the pizza. But at least eat something small before you sleep." She nods. I put the plate away, and grab a different plate. It's a pasta salad she made the day before.
I gave her a small fork, since I had a bit of training in eating disorders. My mother had one, and it really fucked with me as a child. I can't see another person go through something like that again.
I even put the food in a plate I knew she liked. I turned on a show to help her get distracted a little. While she ate, I helped ice her knee, getting on my own while attending to her knee and legs.
After she finished, I asked if she'd like more, she said no. I let her shower, while checking on Ophelia who fell asleep at her crafts table. I tucked her in, before going to Juliette. She smelled like Vanilla and roses. Her bed was made, and her room was sprayed in an essential oil mist we bought together.
I put a little bit of eucalyptus oil in a diffuser to help her calm down. She was looking in the mirror, and I walked behind her. She was in her silk pajama set. I wrapped my arms around her waist, before kissing the top of her head, then her neck.
"You are the most beautiful thing I've set my eyes on, and I'll make sure you know that everyday, even when you refuse to believe it," I remind her. I kept my arms around her, breathing in her scent.
I turned her away from her mirror, so she was looking at me instead of herself. "God how I love those eyes," I groan, watching the sparkle slowly spark back in her eyes. "My beautiful girl," I whisper into her ear, before kissing it.
I whispered compliments after each kiss, before getting to her lips. "My girl is absolutely stunning. Please never forget that." And then I smashed my lips against her, passionately sucking her bottom lip.
"Good night, princess," I say, letting go of her. "I'm going to be in the guest room if you need anything."