A right over you

Janice glared at the phone, incessantly ringing on the nightstand, and then at Maggie, who sat beside her with Prince Michael in her arms.

"Give him a chance. I don't think he wanted to hurt you."

"Well, when Jeremy does the same, I'd like to say the same to you."

Maggie rolled her eyes, "Jeremy wouldn't dare. Besides, I trust Jules, and I know what he's capable of. He'd never do such a thing. I smell blackmail."

Janice shrugged, "I don't think so. We both know how Jules was before he married me. What's to say he wouldn't do the same now?"

"You should see how he looks at you, Janice," Maggie insisted. "He truly adores you. Do you really think he'd do something as awful as this without a second thought?"

"Anyway, you should answer that phone unless you want to deafen us."

Janice glanced at the phone again as it continued to vibrate. She picked it up and pressed the answer button.

It was an unknown number, and she rarely answered calls from unfamiliar numbers. Grace usually handled those since she was always around when calls from random numbers came in. But now that she wasn't, Janice did what she always did-answered the phone without initiating the conversation.

"He's mine, bitch." A woman's voice shouted on the other end. Janice pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the number for a long moment before putting it back in her ear.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" A scowl formed on Janice's face.

"You don't need to know, slut," the woman cackled. "Just so you know, I had a great time with your husband, and I'd like to say he's very skilled in bed."

Before Janice could respond, the woman ended the call.

"Whore." Janice tossed the phone angrily onto the bed.

"Who was that?"

"A woman involved with my 'saint' of a husband," she snapped, and just then, Jules walked into the room.

He furrowed his brows as Janice's glare intensified.

"What does she want?" Maggie asked.

She looked at Jules as he moved toward where Janice sat and shook her head.

The last time they had been this close with Janice present, it hadn't gone well. She doubted it would go any better now, especially after the phone call that had left her seething.

The last time she'd seen Janice this angry was when she reunited with her father after a long absence. Now, that same fury surfaced, and she wondered if forgiving Jules was even on her mind, given that she had yet to forgive her father.

Jules stopped, catching Maggie's signal. The last thing he needed was a full-on Janice confrontation. Though her thumps on his chest lacked weight, he felt the force of her rage and the underlying sorrow.

"Ask him! He's the one running around, sleeping with anyone he lays eyes on!" Janice slid off the bed and brushed past him.

Jules looked at Maggie, who shrugged. "I didn't do anything. I've been trying to apologize all day, but it seems like I'm the last person she wants to see."

"I know, give her time," Maggie advised. "Don't push her; I'm sure she'll come around soon."

Jules nodded, hoping it would be sooner rather than later. The thought of being apart from her for another day was driving him to distraction. Even his son hadn't had the chance for quality time with his father.

He moved towards the cot and gazed at the slumbering infant. Prince Michael had a thumb in his mouth, contentedly sucking on it. He wriggled a bit as Jules patted him gently. Despite the circumstances, Jules smiled, finding solace in the presence of his son.

***

Janice sprang out of bed, disoriented by Michael's cries. She rubbed her swollen eyes, feeling the dampness on her cheeks.

She remembered she had cried herself to sleep. It had been going on for the past hour, and she wondered when it would stop. She assumed she shouldn't be teary anymore, but the thought of Jules always brought tears to her eyes.

She walked slowly to the room where Michael was and stopped by the doorway, noticing a figure hovering over the cot.

The hair on Jules' neck tingled, and he turned. His gaze locked onto Janice as he looked her up and down.

Jules licked his lips and let out a low groan at the black lacy nightie she wore. It reached her midsection, displaying her creamy thighs, and her chest nearly spilled out of it, giving the dress a slightly improper look. He wasn't bothered, though, because she was his wife.

Janice briefly glanced at the floor before slowly peeking at Jules. She blushed when she noticed he was still looking at her. She grabbed a nearby robe and put it on quickly, releasing a sigh when he shifted his gaze.

"Go back to bed. I've already taken care of him."

Janice rolled her eyes and stepped towards the cot. She extended her hands for Prince Michael, waiting a few moments until Jules handed him over to her.

"He's my son. I can take care of him."

"He's my son, too," Jules pointed out.

Janice rocked him for a few more seconds, noticing he was dozing off.

"When will you give me a chance to explain my side of the story?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't have time for this, Jules."

"When will you? I'm willing to say anything to you. I want you back in the room, and I miss you," Jules said, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Maybe..." Janice trailed off, tilting her head. "Maybe never. We have nothing to discuss because we're finished."

"We're not," Jules gritted. "I don't know how long you'll need to come around, but when you do, find me. And in the meantime, you're still my wife."

He pulled her towards him and kissed her roughly. Janice broke the kiss and shoved him.

"What the heck?"

"That's to show I have every right over you. I own you and your damned body."

"You don't!" Janice yelled.

She didn't care if her voice was loud enough to wake her son; Jules was reverting to the prickish jerk he once was.

"I damn well do, Janice Marie Forrest, and don't you dare defy me!"

Janice shivered at the mention of her name. She glimpsed the coldness in his slate-grey eyes and wondered how the conversation had shifted from remorse to possessiveness.

His grip on her hand tightened, and Janice winced. It wasn't until she sniffled that he released her and stormed out of the room.

Janice settled into the rocking chair, her eyes welling up. She remembered everything her father had put her mother through and how her mother had eventually left him. She pondered if she was headed down the same path. She didn't want to replicate her mother's choices, but at the same time, she wasn't ready to forgive Jules for what he had done. After witnessing his behavior tonight, she realized he wasn't the least bit remorseful.

Instead, he treated her as if she were some commodity he'd purchased.

The nerve of him!

"I hate him," she muttered to herself, wiping tears from her cheeks. "I truly hate him."

Even as the bitterness grew inside her, she couldn't deny that she loved him. Her traitorous body still responded to him. If they weren't in this fallout, she might have surrendered to him with just a glance from his eyes and begged him to make love to her. But she refused to cheapen herself or appear weak.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was handling everything with immaturity. What if he hadn't slept with her?

"No," Janice shook her head. The woman called.

Aside from that call, she had no other evidence that he had done it.

Sighing, she shut her eyes, reopening them briefly before closing them once more.