The Newlyweds

John was not okay.
That was all that ran through my head. He was most definitely not okay. His extremely hyper mood had lasted nearly three weeks. He was constantly chipper, always singing and dancing around the house. We would have everyone over to our house very often, and it seemed like the party had not stopped. He was a constant ball of energy, and he would always be talking. It was like I couldn’t keep up with him anymore. Just last night, he had insisted that we go out to eat again, and he was driving. However, this time around he was pretty wreckless and got road-rage very easily. He’s always been prone to flipping people off, but I noticed how this time was vastly different than some of the others. Sometimes he did it because someone didn’t use their turn signal, and other times it was because he wanted to.
I was freaking out.
“Fucking asshole,” He muttered before turning to look at me. “People are so stupid, I swear. How did they get their licenses? Assholes,” He stated pretty proudly.
“Johnny...it was just a turn signal…”
His hands tightened on the wheel.
“Don’t call me that,”
“What?” I questioned, furrowing my brows even more.
“Don’t call me Johnny. It’s degrading. It’s not my name.”
I sighed.
“I’ve been calling you it since I was fifteen…”
“So.” He stated. It wasn’t like a question; it held more definite tone. “My name is John. You call me John or nothing.”
“John…” I couldn’t keep the hurt from flooding my voice.
He reached over, swerving in the process, to link his hand with mine.
“I still love you, of course. Don’t sound like such a kicked puppy.”
“That wasn’t nice.”
“The world isn’t nice, Dorinda,”
I silently thanked God when we finally pulled into our garage. At least he wasn’t behind the wheel anymore. That was definitely the good news. I slowly got out of the passenger side of the car, not bothering to wait on him to go inside. I heard him muttering to himself as I shut the house door behind me. It was a Friday evening, and we were expecting company yet again. This time, however, we were only having Pat, Kennedy, Maria and Kendra over instead of everyone. I had to convince John to make it small this time, and he didn’t agree with me at first.
I bussied myself with wiping off counter tops and cleaning our living room. John made a lot of noise as he stomped up the stairs and toward the music room. I rolled my eyes at him. He can act like a baby all he wants to. It wasn’t nice of him to react the way that he did, and I wasn’t afraid to tell him that. Truthfully, I didn’t want people over at all. I just wanted to spend a quiet evening in with my husband. He apparently did not want that. When I suggested that we just have a night to ourselves, his reply was basically him saying that he would rather be at the bar than at home. I just didn’t get it.
“Brock residence...this is Maria,” my friend answered the phone.
I sighed.
“Hi, Mar…”
“Dia? You okay?”
“Can you give the phone to Kennedy?”
“Uh...sure. Wait just a moment,”
Movement happened, and I pressed my forehead against the cool fridge in the kitchen.
“Doe?” Kennedy said instantly.
“Kenny…” I sighed heavily.
“Whoa...what’s wrong?” He asked. “Is everything okay?”
I shook my head and then realized that Kennedy wouldn’t be able to see me.
“No...it’s not,” I stated. “He…..h-he said I couldn’t call him Johnny anymore…”
I could head Kennedy’s sharp intake of air.
“That’s...strange.”
“I know,” I agreed. “What’s wrong with him, Kenny? I can’t freaking figure it out, and it’s driving me up the wall.”
“Maybe...just maybe he knows? Ya know? Like maybe he knows what’s actually wrong but won’t say anything…”
“That’s stupid.” I stated bluntly. “He would have already told me.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you, Doe.” He stated. “Where are you?”
“Home.” I stated. “Hence talking on the home phone,”
“Don’t get why you didn’t just call my cell,” he laughed.
“I couldn’t find it,” I shrugged; looking up as John entered the kitchen, a deep frown on his face. “I...hey, I gotta go, okay?”
“Okay...are you going to be okay?”
“I highly doubt it. Bye, Kenny.”
“Bye,” he chuckled sadly.
I hung up the phone and walked over to the kitchen island where John had decided to sit at.
“You good, trooper?”
“No.” He muttered, clasping his hands together. “Sorry I was rude.”
“.....I forgive you,” I spoke gently.
“I shouldn’t have and I’m mad at myself for doing it. I wish I could offer more than that….but that’s really it,” He sighed, looking up at me. “We don’t have to have people over,”
“I don’t want you out at a bar,” I interrupted. “I want you to stay home, so they can come over, okay?”
“What if I want to be alone?” He questioned, picking up his head and turning to look at me.
I realized now that John had been crying. I walked closer until I could wrap my arms around his shoulders. When he was sitting down, we were at eye-level. I pressed kisses to his forehead and cheeks. He didn’t refuse the delicate expressions, but welcomed them. John brought his hand up, capturing my chin and pulling me close until our lips met. The kiss was slow and loving, and he finally pulled away. He was kind of smiling now, but I could clearly see the tear stains on his cheeks.
“If you want me be alone, I’ll call them and tell them not to come over okay?”
John sighed.
“Okay….yeah...let’s just be alone.”
I nodded pressing another delicate kiss to his forehead.
“Have you seen my iPhone, per chance?”
“It’s in my pocket,” He smiled sadly before he fished it out. “Here,”
“Thanks babe… go to the living room okay?”
“Okay,” he nodded sadly.
I watched as my husband slowly made his way over to the living room and toss himself on the couch. I called our friends and explained that John wasn’t feeling well. They all said that they understood, but Kennedy pressed for answers. I said that I didn’t want to talk about it at all. I could see John moving until he had most of his body covered with the blanket that we kept in the living room. Kennedy kept asked questions until I finally just told him to lay off. I felt bad after hanging up, but I was too concerned about John to really care.
As I walked closer to the living room, I could hear John crying. I felt my face pull into a frown. I walked until I stood next to him. He looked at me for a minute before he decided to move his body over and patted the space that was now empty. I promptly sat down, and I gripped his hand. He didn’t need to talk to him, he needed me to hold his hand. He laced our fingers together as he continued to cry. I tried my best to hide the confusion on my face, but I knew that John saw it.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you, Johnny,”
“I love you too,” His raspy voice answered.
I sat in the same spot until John cried himself to sleep.



“You look awful.” Maria stated bluntly as I walked into my shop the next morning. “Are you okay?”
I pressed my lips together tightly and shook my head no. I didn’t say anything else before I walked toward the back room to check inventory. I stayed silent, because I didn’t know how to express my thoughts about what happened. John was an complete and utter mess last night. He sobbed on the couch for hours and refused to move. He didn’t make it up the stairs to our room, and he was still there when I left our house. It was a good thing that no one came over; he would have absolutely lost it.
I could barely focus on the clothes in front of me. I was mindlessly working. I picked up item; one after another, completely unaware of everything around me. I wasn’t going to talk about it, I decided. This was something that I wasn’t sure how to handle, but I didn’t want everyone to get involved. For all the reasons I had to tell someone; I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it to myself or to John. He was hurting, regardless of the reason.
I felt Maria’s small hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged her off. I turned to face my best friend, and she had a deep frown on her face. I shook my head and walked back out into my open store. People filled the place, and I went straight into working. Busy work; that would keep me sane. I needed constant distraction. The store would provide that for me.
At half after twelve, Robby came into my vision. He was smiling widely, dressed head to toe in his gymnastics attire.
“Dorinda!” He stated, oddly happy. “You’re back from Italy!”
“Yeah,” I nodded with a heavy sigh. “What can I do for you?”
He laughed.
“I wanted to talk about you becoming a coach, remember?”
I nodded my head.
“I remember,”
“Great!” He stated, sitting the clipboard that he was carrying down on my checkout counter. “We just have to get legal things signed, and you should be cleared,”
“Robby…” I trailed off. “I...I’m not coming back to the gym,”
“What do you mean?” He questioned, mouth falling from his smile.
“I… there are just some things that are going on right now…”
“Dorinda, you can’t be serious!” He sighed. “You’re a gymnast. You need this.”
“Now I’m a wife, and my husband needs me more.”
Robby’s frown turned into pursed lips.
“Fine, this is your last chance. Are you going to come back to the gym or not?”
I felt my jaw start to drop, and my heart tugged.
“No.” I stated firmly. “I’m not.”
Robby shook his head, mumbled to himself before grabbing the clipboard.
“You’re making a mistake.”
I just stared as he left my shop in a hurry. I turned to look over at Maria. She had her arms crossed and furrowed her brows.
“Doe? I….are you okay?” She asked slowly.
“W-why?”
My voice had cracked.
“You’re crying.” She stated, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. As quickly as Robby had left, she ushered me toward my office. She shut the door quickly, and looked at me carefully. “Dorinda, we’re all really fucking concerned.”
I sighed.
“I know,” I stated, looking down at my hands. “Me too,”
“What in hell is going on?!”
“Mar…” I trailed off. “Something’s wrong with John.”
“Is he okay?” She questioned. “Is that...is that what you meant by John needing you right now?”
“Yeah,” I sniffled. Great, now my nose is running.
“What’s really going on?” She asked me softly.
I looked back up at my best friend. She looked so concerned that I felt sick for not talking to her earlier.
“I think John is...sick?”
“What? It’s not something serious is it?!” She stated quickly, jumping to conclusions. “Please tell me it’s not cancer!”
I shook my head.
“Mar, it’s not that kind of sick...I think he need medical attention….”
“For?”
“I...he’s not okay…. m-mentally wrong…”
Maria stared at me before closing her eyes.
“Oh…”
I sighed, pulling my hair up and wrapping it in a bun.
“He’s sick.”
“You already said that…”
“I know…”
My auburn-haired best friend opened her arms wide for me. She held me and left me cry for a few minutes before she had to pull away and close up my shop. She informed me that we were going to go to a spa, and I couldn’t refuse. As we walked out of the shop, I got a call from John. I shook my head, and ignored the first call. When he called two more times, I couldn’t refuse anymore.
“There you are,” He stated. John’s voice cracked; a significant giveaway that he was crying. “I need you,”
“Babe? Everything okay?” I questioned. Maria stopped and looked at me quickly. “Johnny?”
“I n-need you here. Hurry. Please, Dia. I need you back with me… Please get home as f-fast as p-possbile.”
I reached quickly for my car keys.
“Okay, Okay, I’m on my way babe.” I stated. “What’s wrong? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Just hurry,”
And then he hung up.