CHAPTER 33
ABIGAIL AWOKE WHENthe rays of the sun were slanting downward, creating long shadows of pink light. The afternoon had slipped away. A week had passed since she had been shot. And in that entire week, Colin had rarely left her side. He was attentive and concerned, even if a trifle overbearing.
The pain had disappeared almost completely, and she was able to get up from the bed and move around. But she was so sleepy all the time! She worried there was something wrong with her, but Colin had reassured her time after time that it was perfectly normal, given her condition and the blood she had lost. So she just rested and slept.
Now she looked around bleary-eyed, wondering what had woken her and that’s when she noticed she was not alone in her room. Her husband was sitting on the bed next to her, a hand resting warm and familiar on her hip. She blinked twice, wondering if she was still dreaming of him, but he was here for real. Long, unfashionable hair tied back, emphasizing his sharp features and austere eyes.
“You were leaving me.” He sounded sad and resigned at the same time.
The events he was referring to occurred over a week ago, and much had happened between then and now, but she didn’t pretend to misunderstand what he meant.
“You left before. And didn’t come back. Anyway, I thought that was what you wanted.” The reply might be childish, but she was past caring. She would not let him pin this on her.
“I was just visiting my friend Gabriel. I needed to talk. Have some sense knocked into my head.”
“Did it work?”
“I think so.”
Hope blossomed in her chest, but she squashed it down. This man had already played with her emotions enough. He would have to spell out what he wanted to say. She looked at him, her eyes vulnerable and expectant.
He took a deep breath. “Do you want us to live apart?”
Oh no. She would not go first. “Do you? You are the one who brought it up.”
“I know, sorry. I don’t. Want us to live apart, that is. I was just trying to abide by our original plan. We had a deal, and I don’t want you to feel trapped.”
“I have never felt trapped with you.”
“I thought you only accepted to marry me because I promised to set you free.”
“Wrong. I accepted to marry you because I liked you.” His breathing hitched a little at that. “And I trusted you. Without liking and trusting, all your promises would have meant nothing.”
“Past tense? You don’t like me or trust me anymore?”
She sat up. This conversation was too serious to have while lying down. “You must know I still do. Even more than the day we married. But I don’t know if the same is true for you. When I told you I was pregnant, you immediately told me you wouldn’t touch me anymore. You have been angry, jealous, distant. Now you speak of separation, as if you are looking forward to it.”
“That’s not true. It was tearing me up inside to let you go. But I thought it was the right and noble thing to do. That it was what you wanted.”
“What makes you think that is what I want?” she said, bewildered. “Colin, when have I ever made you feel I don’t want you by my side? When have I not welcomed you into my bed and into my body?”
He looked down. “I thought you were doing it out of duty. You don’t let yourself feel pleasure with me. You are always so congenial. As if you don’t want sex to be deep, passionate, animalistic, but something superficial. Like having tea together. That is not the behavior of someone who desires.”
“I-I was trying to be ladylike, civilized about it. I didn’t want to act like a wanton and risk your contempt.”
“What?” he ran his hand over his head, disordering the locks. “Please explain, because I don’t understand a thing. How could your passion earn my contempt?”
