Over the next few weeks she starts wearing more clothes and she never eats when he's not there.
When he's there she eats, but she tries not to make a show of it.
She runs five miles five times a week as usual.
She doesn't think he'll ever ask her to stop running.
He likes it when she runs.
They actually keep their distance.
He thinks he has embarrassed her.
The truth is they both feel embarrassed.
It occurs to them that normal people don't act this way.
He feels like he shouldn't have to ask her to gain weight.
She should have gained weight after they got married like everyone else.
He knows that one of the reasons he chose her was that he knew she wouldn't turn into a cave woman when she hit thirty-five.
But couldn't she look more comfortable?
What he wants is to come home to her in sweatpants on the couch eating wheat thins, and watching some show that he can feel superior about her watching.
And as long as he's known her she had a lot of promise tending toward that.
She doesn't watch the quick intellectual shows, she watches a lot of Criminal Minds, but that's formulaic.
She was always more of a spandex woman though.
He thinks about that for a while, picturing her in various different colors of spandex pants.
He wonders if she knows, really knows, what her ass looks like in them.
He thinks she must know and that's why she wears them.
It must be that it's all a part of her plan.
He's even seen older women who are clearly straight look at her butt, because really it's a work of art.
If her butt gets two pant sizes bigger he can relax a little more and not worry about her walking down the street alone.
He isn't afraid something terrible will happen to her.
He's annoyed by all the people who will get a good look while he's trying to work.
Since he met her he feels like he does a lot less of his own work.
He just knows that he accomplished more before she came into his life.
Yeah maybe he was doing nefarious things, but they were his nefarious things.
Now he's spending ample amounts of time on what he can see is a disgraceful habit.
She is his disgraceful habit.
So after a couple weeks of avoiding her he decides to confront her.
Again he walks up to her in the kitchen, but this time her back is turned, and she's doing dishes.
He walks up close to her and puts his hand on her lower back.
He does it out of respect actually, to let her know he's there.
She knows she's supposed to keep washing the dishes.
Then he slips his hand under her waistband and squeezes her ass.
He's trying not to squeeze it like he's the witch in the gingerbread house; testing to see if she's properly fattened up for the slaughter.
But he's gauging it.
Her pants aren't very form fitting and he's trying to abstain from sex until she's at least five pounds heavier, but it's hard to see...
He caresses her again and it feels like maybe she's softer.
But then she shifts when she turns the faucet off and accidentally flexes her muscles.
His grip loosens, and he knows he's in trouble.
He knows he's in trouble, because the only way he's going to get a good look is to take her clothes off.
This time he turns her around facing him.
And he's instantly jarred by the look on her face.
Her eyes are smoldering and she has a slightly challenging grin on her face.
He grabs her face and presses his lips against hers.
The whole time she keeps looking him in the eyes.
Then he begins to undress her.
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