NFH Honeymoon from Hell II by R.L. Mathewson

touch of sea
sickness and won’t take these pills that will-”
    Before the doctor could finish spouting more
of his bullshit, he suddenly found himself shoved onto his back,
his wife straddling his chest, and not in the good way, pinning his
arms by his sides, his nose pinched and two large pills shoved in
his mouth all while the woman that he loved glared down at him,
daring him to refuse swallowing the pills that were guaranteed to
make him sicker.
    When he turned his head to spit the pills
out, she slapped one of her dainty little hands over his mouth and
tightened her pinch on his nose as she calmly said with a serene
smile that actually frightened him a bit, “Swallow.”
    He did, but not because he was afraid of his
wife, which there may have been a slight possibility at that moment
that he was, but because he was curious what the hell had happened
to make his normally sane wife lose her fucking mind. He could have
easily shoved her off and freed himself, but the thought
surprisingly never even entered his mind. He would never do
anything that could hurt her.
    So, he laid there, glaring right back at her
as he slowly swallowed the pills, dry. As soon as the pills went
down his throat she removed her hand and calmly got up and walked
towards the door as though this little break in sanity never
happened. Even the doctor that had been trying to get him to
swallow the damn pills for the past half hour stood there, slack
jawed as he stared after Zoe.
    Obviously feeling the need to explain her
crazed actions, she turned around, cleared her throat delicately
and explained, “They’re serving fried chicken in the lower
restaurant in twenty minutes,” she said with a shrug and a sheepish
smile that made the doctor take a hasty step back, probably
thinking that the woman was insane, but since Trevor knew that she
was simply trying to keep up with the twins that she was carrying,
he simply placed his hand over his stomach, rolled over onto his
side and promptly fell asleep.

Chapter 7
    “ Can I get you anything else, ma’am?” Edmund, the
cute waiter who’d she’d gotten to know quite well over the past two
days, asked as he picked up another empty glass and
plate.
    “ Another banana split and a
chocolate milk?” she asked, not quite able to meet his gaze as she
stepped aside so that he could place the cheeseburger platter,
plate of lasagna, American chop suey, chicken tenders with French
fries and onion rings on the table that he’d just
cleared.
    “ With extra bananas,” he
said with a smile and an understanding nod as he pulled out his
tablet and added her order while she stood there, trying not to
think about the fact that he’d probably spent more time in her room
over the past two days, bringing her food, than anywhere
else.
    “ Please,” she said right
around the time that the pained groan sounded from the floor
reminding her to ask for something else. “And more Gatorade,
please?”
    “ Certainly,” Edmund said
with a nod as he grabbed the last empty plate and placed it on the
cart, which earned a small grunt that they both knew by this point
meant, “Thank you.”
    He started to push the cart towards the door
when the large tan hand was suddenly raised in the air, holding a
twenty-dollar bill. With a smile and a murmured thank you, Edmund
accepted the money and continued to push the cart towards the door
that he’d left propped open. Once he’d pushed the cart out, he
allowed the door to close behind him.
    “ Do you want to try and eat
something?” she asked the large man curled up in the fetal position
on the floor as she cut the cheeseburger in half.
    He didn’t answer her, but he did open one eye
so that he could narrow it accusingly on her before he shut it and
resumed softly groaning miserably from the spot that he’d claimed
on the floor by the door as his. The only time he’d left that spot
in the last two days was to use the bathroom, take a shower, three
attempted baths to soothe his