5. Pancakes VS Waffles

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Joanne bit into her nails as she thought of all the possible reasons for Reagan’s sudden metamorphosis.

The top two reasons she could find were: brain injury and deception.

The latter was more likely.

She had locked herself up in her room, after resolving just this morning that she was not going to hide away.

But in her defense, Reagan was being really scary right now.

She never thought she would say this, but she preferred the emotionally volatile short-tempered cruel guy over… whatever he was trying to be.

Her stomach rumbled.

She had just checked the security app. The guy was still lurking in the kitchen.

Joanne whined. She was the pregnant one. She was the one in dire need of nutrition.

“Joanne?” She jumped at his voice from the other side of the door as he knocked. “Can I come in?”

“You can try.” She muttered as she got off the bed and walked towards the exit, unlocking the door.

The aroma of freshly made pancakes and ginger tea reached her nose, making her flutter her eyes close as she took a heavenly inhale.

She snapped out of it and glowered at him.

“Why do you keep locking the door?” Reagan walked in and set the tray down on the coffee table. “And have something. You must be starving.”

“This is not your room. You can’t just walk in here like you own the place.” Joanne said, fighting her urge to just sit down and eat. It could be poisoned for all she knew.

Hey, the chances were less for another three months. The man wanted an heir. He may not have cared for the kid but it had been the only reason he even entertained her presence near him. He had completely ignored her since her pregnancy news.

“I do own the place.” Joanne stepped back, shocked by the carefree wink he threw her way.

“Who are you and what have you done to Reagan Knight?” She couldn't help the words that slipped out of her mouth.

He laughed. “Hey, sit down and eat. Then I will tell you what I have done with your husband.”

Joanne stared at him skeptically, not making any move.

Reagan sighed dramatically and grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch. “Aren't you hungry? I am starving.”

He plopped down right next to her.

If what he was doing earlier didn't rattle her, this did.

She could not help but scoot away.

“What are you doing?”

“That's what I want to know. What are you doing?” She glowered at him. “Why are you in my room and why are you sitting here?”

“My home,” He said and Joanne was ready to bite back but he beat her to it, “my wife, my child so how is this room just yours?”

Joanne gaped at him.

Had she somehow managed to damage his brain through his nose?

”Should we go to the hospital?” She asked.

He gave her a flat look, as if she was the one acting weird.

“No, I am actually concerned your head is hurt.”

Reagan smirked, leaning towards her for her to scoot backward. He placed his arm behind her shoulder on the couch and leaned further in. “I didn’t know you cared so much about me? You had no problem punching my nose in yesterday.”

“You deserved it.” Joanne scoffed.

“To have my nose broken on my birthday. And have my birthday dinner and cake dumped in the trash. Some might say that would be harsh.”

Joanne wanted to tell him what was harsher, but she could not reveal the future to him. What if it gave him ideas? What if he implemented the murder plan earlier since he would already know it was a girl she was carrying? And not to mention the far likely possibility of him thinking she had gone cuckoo and sending her to an asylum.

So she chose not to say anything.

“Alright, are you going to eat or going to let my hard work go to waste?” He asked. He had that stupid smile on his face. The one she hated. The one she was so unfamiliar with that she could not trust it at all.

His anger, his insults. Those were things that she was used to. They were predictable. They were safe. She had always believed that no matter how cruel his words were, how much cuts his tongue left on her heart, the man would never physically hurt her.

That was until he had her and her unborn child murdered in cold blood.

Yes, it looked like he had just jumped at the opportunity of having her out of his way and so asked the kidnapper to just end her. But Joanne was convinced that no man could ever say it so casually unless they wanted it for a long, long time.

She looked at the food. She was not someone to disrespect food. She never was.

But, what did all that respect, consideration and empathy get her?

Nowhere.

No. Not anywhere.

At death's door.

So she did not respect anything anymore.

No one ever gave a living, breathing human like her any respect or minimal consideration.

So now, she refused to hold up that courtesy.

“I don't want it.”

“What? What did the pancakes do to you?” Reagan asked. He did not seem the least offended.

“It was made by you.”

“Oh come on-”

The doorbell randomly just then.

Joanne tried hard to remember who it was.

In the past, she had been left to wallow in her own misery the day after his birthday. So she had no idea who it was.

“I will get the door.” He squeezed her shoulder, making her uncomfortable.

Joanne followed after him, not trusting herself to hold onto her resolve with food in front of her.

She checked the security app on the way.

A smile broke out onto her face as she shoved Reagan aside and got to the door, swinging it open to reveal her best friend since diaper days.

“Ellie!” She threw herself into his waiting arms.

“My Joey is a MOTHER?” The burly ginger swept her off her feet and hugged the air out of her lungs. “I get my very OWN sidekick?”

“No!” She smacked his back before he settled her back on the ground.

Elliot looked over at Reagan, smirking, “Who fixed your nose?”

Reagan stood there fuming.

“I bought your favorite chocolate chip waffles.” Elliot waved the bag.

Joanne grinned, “Perfect.”

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