Page 100 of Beautiful Scars

No it fucking doesn’t.

I unlock the door, and quickly realize this isn’t my lucky night. She’s not going to be some angel lying on the pillows while I stare at her and try to find my soul so I can search it.

She’s wide awake.

“That’s twice now. Twice.”

I give her a half-smile. “We’ve already established you can count to two, princess.”

“Also already established you’re a dick, so I won’t repeat it.” She pushes her hair over one shoulder and gives me a raised eyebrow.

I unbutton my shirt. “Did you miss me?”

“Like someone hammered my fingernails.”

“Surely a sign we’re going to have a long and happy marriage,” I tell her as I remove the rest of my clothing.

“If this is marriage to you then I wouldn’t bet on it. And if you’re going to tell me you’ve had another bad day then I have no sympathy,” she says. “You left me here alone all day and I’ve been up all night. Again.”

“You could always try... I don’t know. Sleeping? Like a normal person,” I suggest.

I turn my back while I take my trousers off, and when I turn back around she’s got that glazed look in her eye and her knees tucked up into her chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

I didn’t mean she wasn’t normal. I know she has trouble sleeping.

“I know,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.

This is the point where I would normally fuck her.

But I don’t know if that’s a good idea anymore.

I was trying to make her stronger, but what if I’ve just made her more dependent?

Selfishly, I quite like the idea of that. I’ve never in my life had someone sitting up all night waiting on me. Then again, I’ve never fucked the same person more than twice, either. Is this normal behavior, or is this Meisie behavior?

I don’t know. So I put my legs inside my gray sweats and I shove my hands in my pockets.

If the big man’s not going to give me a sign then I need to look for one. I walk over to the bed and gesture for her to shove over and let me in. She likes to lie in the middle for some reason.

“Let’s talk.”

She turns around and stares at me. “I’m sorry... what?”

“Let’s talk. Like what real couples do when they’re not fucking.”

She laughs, but I can tell it’s a sarcastic one. Little shit. “You must have missed the memo on us not being a real couple.”

I turn around and stare at her. “I write the fucking memos.”

She gives me an amused look, and then turns back around to watch the silent television. “I suppose you do.”

“What do you want Meisie?”

“A new dressmaker. She’s a nightmare, Cillian.”

I let out a tired laugh. This is going to be impossible. “In life.”