I did not even remember falling asleep out there.
Armaan finished wrapping my wrist and looked up at me.
"You should sleep," he said, his voice low and rough. "It has been a long day."
I nodded, unable to form words. What was I supposed to say? Thank you for marrying me even though you did not want to? Thank you for not forcing yourself on me tonight? Thank you for caring about my injury?
Everything felt too complicated, too heavy.
He stood up and moved away from the bed. I quickly lay down, positioning myself at the very far edge of the mattress, as close to the side as I could get without actually falling off. I pulled the covers up to my chin and kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling.
I heard him walk back to the bathroom. The door closed, and a moment later I heard the sound of running water.
He was taking a shower.
I lay there in the dim light, listening to the muffled sounds of water and trying to calm my racing heart. The room felt too big and too small at the same time. The bed felt too soft, too luxurious. Everything about this place reminded me that I did not belong here.
After what felt like an eternity, the water stopped. There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by the sound of my own breathing.
Then the bathroom door opened.
I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I did not want to face him right now. I did not want to have any more awkward conversations or loaded silences.
But I could hear him moving around the room. I could hear the soft sound of a towel against skin. The quiet rustle of fabric.
Curiosity got the better of me. I opened my eyes just a fraction, peeking through my lashes.
And immediately regretted it.
He was standing near the bathroom door, completely shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose cotton pants that hung low on his hips. Water droplets ran down his chest and stomach, following the defined lines of his muscles. His skin gleamed in the soft lamplight, and his dark hair was damp and slightly messy.
He was beautiful. Devastatingly, impossibly beautiful.
I felt something flutter in my stomach. Something warm and unfamiliar that made my cheeks heat up.
I squeezed my eyes shut immediately, my heart hammering against my ribs. He should not know I was awake. He should not catch me staring at him like some kind of fool.
I could hear him moving closer to the bed. I forced myself to keep my breathing slow and even, mimicking sleep.
There was a pause. A long moment where nothing happened. Then I heard the distinct sound of fabric being pulled on. A shirt, maybe. Or a t-shirt.
Relief flooded through me, though I was not entirely sure why. Part of me had been terrified he would climb into bed shirtless. Part of me had been disappointed by the same thought.
I did not understand myself at all.
The mattress dipped as he got into bed on his side. I felt the movement even from where I lay at the far edge. He shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and then I heard the soft click of the bedside lamp being turned off.
Darkness enveloped the room.
We lay there in silence, separated by what felt like miles of space even though we were on the same mattress. I could hear him breathing. Slow and steady and calm.
I did not know whether to feel relieved or afraid that he was giving me time in our marriage. Relieved that he was not demanding anything from me tonight. Afraid of what it meant that he could lie this close to me and not want anything at all.
Did that mean he found me unattractive?
The thought sent an unexpected stab of pain through my chest, which made no sense. I should be grateful. I should be relieved.
But instead, I just felt confused.
