Wow, I've (once again) been really late with the update.. I'm SO sorry! Don't know why but I think I just had no ideas in my mind for this chapter, but now I've kicked myself in the ass and got myself to work again! And I must say that it's because of your readers wonderful comments! Thank you so much for the sweet feedback, I adore you guys! Again sorry for the wait, hope it was just a bit worth it xD; There are minor hints to sex, but no actions.
It was late evening in Chicago, around the time where people who work too much, or just have something better to do, is making dinner. That also goes for June.
Tonight she and Wilbur were going to have chicken. June was quite happy, even though there had been some trouble earlier this day. The milkman. He wasn't your regular milkman who delivered the milk, and then left. This milkman had some kind of obsession for June. Every time she opened the door, which was pretty much always, he told her how much he loved her, that she was perfect, he could make her happy, why didn't she leave Wilbur and run away with him instead.
Sometimes Wilbur had been home when the milkman had come. The first couples of times he had just laughed and said things like "What a freak." That however stopped after the milkman had courted her for a month or so. Then it wasn't so funny anymore. That's the thing with Wilbur, and June, they both had short temper. June began yelling at the milkman from time to time when his courtesy just got a tad too much. Around the same time, Wilbur had more shifts at work, which resulted in even shorter temper and that he and June didn't have so much time together.
However today was special, Wilbur was off work tomorrow. Therefore June had bought chicken, and was preparing a feast. And after dinner, well then Wilbur would get a feast in the bed. Even though the milkman had been extra bad today, June ignored it and just looked forward to see Wilbur.
To be more accurate, the milkman had walked into her apartment today, and started kissing her. If it weren't for June's good punch he would probably have raped her. Something was definitely wrong in this guy's head. However June got him out again, yelling after him. However when he left the apartment with a smirk on his face, Wilbur's friend Jerrod, who lived upstairs, had seen him exit. June had taken a deep breath and greeted Jerrod before she went inside again.
June began carving up the chicken, minding her own business. Then she heard the door, but it didn't just open. It flew open and smacked into the wall. She then heard Wilbur scream her name, not in the usual way, but madder. June looked up from the chicken and towards the living room where Wilbur stormed in. He seemed to be in a rage, and not just any rage. Oh no, it was a jealous rage.
"You've been screwin' the milkman!" he yelled. June was shocked, where did he get that from? Then she understood, that damned Jerrod had probably told Wilbur what he had seen, and assumed that June and the milkman had had sex.
June tried to explain, but Wilbur was crazy and he kept on screaming "You've been screwin' the milkman!" along with other insults such as "You little whore". June started shaking; she clutched the knife in her hand. She had stopped trying to get through to him and tell him what really had happened. He was lost in his rage. He started walking towards her, doing all sorts of gestures. June then bared her teeth in a scream as she stormed towards Wilbur and stabbed him in the stomach. He fell down on the floor, and began gargling because of the blood which slowly appeared in his mouth. But June didn't stop.
How dared he! How dared he! How dared he not trust her! She had given up on everything! Everything for his goddamn sake! Her job, her apartment! He didn't even try to listen to her explanation! It was his entire fault! She hated him, hated him, hated him, hated him!
When June finally got herself together again, she discovered she was on top of Wilbur. Both of them were covered in blood. But it was only his blood. Ten times. She wiped away some blood from her face with her sleeve, and got up. She walked out in the kitchen and placed the knife on the carving board. Then she heard the door open, and the voice of their neighbor, mrs. Brown, who probably wanted to burrow some sugar, which she always did when she was curious. June heard her scream and smiled a bit. Busted, but she didn't care, because it was his entire fault. She grabbed a piece of the carved chicken, and squeezed it in her hand till the liquid from the chicken mixed with the blood on her hand.