An Argument

TW: DV (I think) and Toxic Relationships, strong biblical references

I miss eve said Adam as Eve bent over a stove, an apron around her red and white checkered waist. 

Eve straightened, not a hair out of place nor a smudge in her makeup no matter how hot the steam of her pot was. She looked at him, squinting into the artificial lights of the century their marriage had made it to. She turned to him, the stove left on, and really looked at he who sat at the table.

I'm right here Adam, said Eve.

I know, said he, but you are not who eve was. 

I'm not?

No, said Adam as he stood from the table. The refrigerator door opened with a squeak that no one would remember to fix and the First Man popped a beer can open. He spoke again as his Wife did not move.

You aren't the same girl that you were in Eden. You've changed, you're sour now. You used to be sweet.

Eve rolled her eyes, the same conversation repeating every decade she spent with his ring on her finger. 

I raised this whole world and you think I've changed? said she. No, I haven't changed, Adam. You just see me different after that snake. You always have and you always will.

You should've left the apple, said Adam.

You should've told me it was evil, said Eve. And I am glad we ate because now we are here. And we have billions of family all around us. I wouldn't trade that for a garden.

Eve turned again to her stove, the pot boiling and boiling, the bubbles popping. There was only water. She didn't get out the noodles she realized.

Adam approached her.

This is what I mean, he said - a continuation of where the conversation usually ends - you talk back. eve didn't.

Eve paused at that. This conversation does not continue, she thought, we end it at the garden and now we're talking again. This is not how it goes.

What do you mean, said she.

I mean, that eve would never tell me that the garden wasn't the perfect place. eve would not say that this life is better than the other.

Eve laughed. 

Then I believe, said the First Woman, that that eve only existed in Eden. Because how could she think any life is better than the only she's ever known?

She gripped the handles of the pot as the First Husband moved closer.

His beer can cracked in his hand. 

What? He asked and his voice was harsher than the snakes had been.

Hm, she hummed. And then Adam was on the floor, boiling water streaming down his face, dissolving his eyesight, flooding his nose and his ears, his neck chest arms burning like his head, moving down down downward. 

Eve glanced at the empty pot in her hands. She set it back on the stove, turning the burner off and watching her Husband writhe. He had not stopped screaming. 

Oh come now, she said. You're being emotional. You'll grow everything back by tomorrow. 

Her screaming Husband did not answer.

Dinner will be late tonight, she said. Will that be alright, dear?

Her screaming Husband did not answer.

I'll take that, said Eve, as a yes.

And that conversation never went past 'the garden' again.