I gritted my teeth. I hated that part, too. I hated that she needed distance from me in a house that was supposed to be ours.
“I was about to say I’ll be in another bathroom, so, yeah. Separately,” I agreed dryly.
She stood and walked upstairs without another word. I showered fast, because if I took too long, my mind would start doing what it always did when it had too much quiet in the last year: think about her body, think about her mouth, think about all the things I’d do if she’d let me.
She wasn’t going to let me. Not tonight. I exhaled as I walked back into the bedroom. She was already in bed, all the way on the edge. I just looked at her pretty ass, her skin a pretty golden-brown against the white sheets. She stared at the ceiling like she was pretending I didn’t exist. I shut the door gently and crossed the room.
“You good?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
Honesty. I could respect it. I pulled back the covers on my side and slid in, careful and slow. No sudden movements. No touching. I lay on my back at first, hands folded over my stomach and listened to the silence.
Theory’s voice finally cut through it. “So… this is it?”
I turned my head slightly. “What’s ‘it’?”
“This marriage. You got what you wanted. Now I’m here.”
“I didn’t want you like this,” I said quietly.
She let out a bitter laugh. “But you did it.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I did.”
“I want some things, too. Some concessions.”
I squeezed my eyes closed. “Let me hear this.”
“I want to talk to my family whenever I want,” she began.
“That’s not a problem now, Theory. You not a prisoner.”
“I can’t tell,” she mumbled. I let it go.
“What else?”
A long pause. “I don’t want you using things I told you against me. I don’t want you to talk about having babies or none of that,” she whispered.
My reply took longer this time, because I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t want her denying what she had longed for to spite me. I didn't want her to feel like I was weaponizing her words against her. But arguing with her would do no good. A little bit her way and a lot mine for now.
“You keep the doula because you need the relaxation. But I won’t talk about pregnancy until you ready,” I agreed.
“And you won’t try to get me pregnant either,” she pressed.
I rolled over to stare at her. Slowly, I stroked my hand down the curve of her side. Fuck! She felt so good. And her scent…
“How I’ma get you pregnant when you ain’t planning on letting me touch you?” I murmured.
She shivered lightly under my touch, but those honey eyes held my gaze defiantly.
“I’m stupid enough to find you attractive. I’ll probably be really stupid one day, weak enough to let you fuck. But never without a condom.”
I lay back again, worked to hold on to my damn temper. I didn’t like the way she was talking about having sex with me. She’d have to be stupid? Weak? And she’d once sworn she wanted nothing between us.Patience, I reminded myself.
“Whatever,milaya,” I said evenly.
She looked at me like she’d really said something profound before continuing. “And I want to know the real reason for this sham of a marriage. I wanna know why the guards and how y’all got the money. I know something is up.”
