#ourthrillernights

over the course of nine years, you and jaafar have accomplished all of your goals except one.

you were each other’s firsts.

you graduated college.

acquired your dream jobs.

got engaged.

and eventually married at twenty six.

marriage treated you well for a while. everyday felt like your honeymoon hadn’t ended. it was a dream come true. the beautiful home. the love of your life by your side morning and night.

“baby.”

you hum to let him know you’re listening. your hand reaching down for his arm that was wrapped loosely around your side. fingers tracing down the warm skin until you found his own. letting out a tired sigh as you interlaced them. “yeah?”

“do you remember our goal list? the one we made in college?” his voice was different, soft…but different. you couldn’t quit pinpoint it as you focused on fighting the sleep a little longer. your eyelids felt heavy.

but even then, the corners of your lips lifted. letting out what sounded like an amused chuckle, “you mean the one that is stuck onto the fridge with a new york magnet?” instead of hearing him laugh, he just lets out a small “mhm” into your ear.

you take a moment to turn around in his arms. fixing your head on the pillow next to him so you were face to face. “what about it?” you ask slowly, making out his expression under the slight bluish hue the moonlight casted on him.

you recognized the hesitation on his face as his lips pursed and his eyes wandered over your face. your own eyebrows furrowing in curiousness as you took in the feeling of his fingers moving your hair out of your face. “do you remember the goal for year ten? do you…” his palm fingers its way across your cheek, cupping it. “do you still want that?”

the sudden mention of your goals- no, the goal - makes you smile with a sound of relief. bringing your hands to his wrist and pulling his hand to your lips. pressing a soft kiss on the skin before interlocking your fingers, “of course i do, silly. i just…you know, want to be considerate.” you explain, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

the once hesitant look on his face forms into content. you did still want that. you still wanted to have a baby, with him. “considerate? of what?” he doesn’t even notice when he starts smiling. running his thumb over the back of your hand as his eyes flicker down each of your features. the ones he often imagines your children with.

“you.” you can tell that only confuses him more. scooting closer to him until your chest was flush against his and tucking your head into his neck. “i feel like you just accomplished something huge with the movie. i don’t want to cut that short. you’re so busy and you have all these priorities.”

for a while, he stays silent. so silent, all you can hear is the sound of his steady breathing. and then he sighed, “i don’t like it when you speak like that. like you’re not my main priority.” he pulls you closer. kissing the top of your head before resting his chin on it. “i’m ready. there is nothing i want more than to have a baby with you.”

“starting my family with you is my dream. you’re my priority.”

-

YEAR 10.

eighty three days.

it has been eighty three days since that night and you remember it like it was yesterday.

you remember the way your body went limp.

the aching that shocked your entire body as you crashed onto your knees.

the look of terror on jaafar’s face as he rushed into the room the second your blood curling scream echoed throughout the home.

the way he froze upon seeing you try to gather the blood trickling down your thighs.

like you believed if you held it all, it would all be undone.

you remember the way he held your face in his hands. the way his lips moved as if he was saying something to you. no matter how hard you tried to remember what comforting words he said to you. it all went blurry after he wiped your stained hands on his shirt. he didn’t care if he ruined it. all he wanted was for you to look at him.

that was your second miscarriage.

the sound of your bedroom door closing made you blink in what felt like hours. keeping your eyes on the window that allowed you to see the moon as you listened to his footstep slowly tread towards you.

he stopped at the side of the bed. looking down at you with what you felt was pity. “jaafar, please don’t.” you don’t want him to get a word in. you don’t want him to ask you if you’re okay. so you close your eyes in hopes of him giving up for the day.

but instead you feel the bed sink next to you. his soft hand runs up your covered calf slowly, “did you…” his voice trailed off when he realized that you were still in the same position you were this morning. you hadn’t eaten.

it pained him to have to see you like. the dull expression on your face despite the puffiness around your eyes. for a moment, he feels his throat tightening as he hesitates to say anything to you.

“honey…” no response.

part of him is terrified that his presence is what upsets you most. and an even bigger part of him, fears that you don’t love him anymore. “how much longer am i going to have to see you like this?” he can hear how selfish he sounds.

but whatever response he got out of you was good enough. anything to show him that you still cared. his hand slides across the mattress until he reaches yours that is tucked under your chest. “we can try again, baby…”

the shaky whisper finally makes you look over at him. noticing the thick tears welded up in his eyes. “that’s your solution? trying to replace our…” you can’t even say the word. it gets caught in your throat. looking away before slipping your hand out of his hold.

your next words, he thinks he will never forget.

“jaafar, i know…i know you think you’re helping.”

you let out a shaky breath, looking down at the diamond on your finger.

“but right now, i just resent you.”

the room fell silent.

jaafar jackson

i don't negotiate.

hurt you

series