I swallowed my tears, tasting the salty liquid. I’d say his words; that didn’t mean I believed them. “I am the wife of Jacob Adams.”
He released my neck, and he moved to brush away my tears. Though his intent may have been gentle, I flinched at the contact.
“Sara, do not pull away from me. I don’t want to punish you. Hurting you has never been my goal.”
I stilled, holding my breath and concentrating on remaining motionless as he wiped my tears.
“Our roles are clear. As your husband, I’m the head of our household. With that title comes responsibility. You’re my responsibility. Your behavior reflects on me. How do you think it looks when a man can’t control his own wife? When we said our vows, you promised to honor and obey.”
Though I didn’t mean to respond, involuntarily my head moved ever so slightly from side to side. Had he not been holding my cheek, he might not have noticed, but he was and he did. With increased volume, Jacob said, “Sara? You’ve already disobeyed me by speaking. Explain why you’re shaking your head.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“Nothing?”
“I didn’t mean to shake my head,” I lied. I didn’t remember vows, and if I’d said them, I couldn’t imagine having said those. Do people really still say obey?
“But you did. You meant to shake your head, and now you’re lying. You realize that lying is a sin, don’t you?”
Oh my God! I nodded, not wanting to have this conversation. Suddenly I didn’t want any conversation. I wanted to go back to not talking, to both of us not talking.
“No, Sara.” He was again speaking slowly and calmly. “Right now we’re talking. You may respond verbally.” When I hesitated, he added, “You will respond verbally.”
Is he serious?
“I’m very tired. I think maybe that when I hit my head in the accident it affected my memory. Things are fuzzy.” I lowered my chin again. “Please, let me go back to sleep.” I needed to use the restroom, but I wasn’t about to ask for his help. Maybe Raquel or Elizabeth would return, or the nurse who’d brought my lunch. Deborah.
“Not yet. You didn’t answer my question.”
“Your question?” I couldn’t remember his question.
“Lying. You remember what lying is, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know lying is a sin.”
“What happens to sinners?”
“They go to hell?”
“Was that a question?” He took my hand. “If it was, yes, when sinners die they go to hell. I’m talking about before that. I’m talking about what happens when sinners are still alive. As my wife, it’s my responsibility to keep you from sin. How do I do that, Sara?”
The dryness of my mouth made speaking difficult. I truly didn’t know what he wanted, but at this point I’d say whatever it was to make him go away. “Jacob, I’m sorry. I won’t sin.”
“That’s a big promise. One that isn’t your burden to bear. It’s mine. It’s my job to see that you live a virtuous life. It’s my job to correct you when you fail. That’s why I slapped you. It was punishment, punishment for disobeying, correction for your outburst.” He again caressed my cheek. “It’s up to you, Sara. It always has been. If you obey my rules and those of Father Gabriel, there’s no need for correction. The rules keep you from sin. You don’t want to be a sinner, do you?”
I shook my head, not understanding why his words affected me. “No, I don’t.”
Jacob lifted the end of my braid and his tone lightened. “We have a lot to discuss, and you said you’re tired, but first.” He paused. “It’s nearly three in the afternoon. Do you need to use the restroom again?”
Damn. I hated that I needed him or anyone for such basic things. I nodded.
“Sara? We’re speaking, so speak.”
“Yes, I do.”
The bed shifted as Jacob released my hand and stood. His footsteps moved to the right side of my bed. By the tugging, I figured that he was fumbling with my IV.
“I’ve watched them hook and unhook this many times,” he said. “But I’m not sure how they did it.” Things clanked. “This pole is on wheels. I think I can carry you and move it at the same time.”
I considered offering to hold on to it, but I didn’t know how the speech restriction worked. Would he tell me when it had been reinstated? Instead of talking, I waited until he pulled back the blankets. The cool air reminded me of Dr. Newton and his exam, and I shuddered.
“Jacob?”
“Yes?”
“May I tell you something?”
He smoothed my hair away from my forehead. The repetitive motion was beginning to remind me of someone petting a dog or a cat. “You’ve always been able to be honest with me.”
Always? How long has that been? I raked my lower lip between my teeth.
“Why are you doing that? Were you not planning on being honest?”
“No, I was. It’s that it’s about Dr. Newton, and I don’t know if I should say anything.”