Page 71 of Graciously His

With that in mind, I pull the sheet up to enfold both of us. The lube falls to the floor with a muffled thunk, but my sated little heart is already half-asleep in my arms.

Chapter 28

Nate

Four Weeks Later

Grace is healing beautifully under my care and she has yet to figure out how closely I’m watching her. Even when she’s off on her morning walk with Mihi and Shep, I’m tracking her distant figure. She’s backlit by the rising sun, which comes up earlier and earlier as spring takes hold. I can’t help but smile when she bends down to pick something up—more of her precious sea glass. My little heart loves her broken pieces.

Her health has improved steadily. I’ve tried to track it in the bullet journal, but she’s using a shifting code I can’t quite follow. That’s fine. Instead, I rely on my own observations and Eileen’s confirmations: my wife is either all healed up, or close to it. The hollows under her eyes have filled in, as have the spaces between her ribs. The air hunger is gone, her joints are better, and her stomach is only occasionally tender after meals. And, thanks to me, she’s getting closer to finishing her Architecture degree. Slowly, I’m working on getting her to abandon the idea of heading down to Dunedin for graduation. The last thing I need is to step back into the Munchausen bitch’s territory. Especially when I have the bitch so nicely contained.

Grace doesn’t know that Constance Reid has been texting at least once per day for the last month. At first, her messages ranged from loving to coercive, then back again. After a few days, she got wise that the texts were being delivered to my phone, not her daughter’s.

I caught the exact moment she started talking to me rather than to Grace:

You know, little boy, marriages are a matter of public record. I know what you’ve done. I know what you’re still doing. Maybe it’s time for me to tell.

Bullshit, of course. But I keep track of her texts, just in case.

Meanwhile, my other obligations are encroaching. The app is doing well, Dare’s cousin is doing Nick’s job passably, and I’ve kept up with everything—except that the damn landlord wants me to renew our lease in person. I’ve tried to get around it, to have Dare do the signing at the office, or else get it done by mail. No dice. The old man who owns the building insists on a face-to-face for all lease renewals, and ours is due.

Considering the horizon from my spot on the deck, I wonder if it’s time to test my hold on Grace. There’s a mountain of proof that I am the better husband, the better twin. A little distance could create the sort of vulnerability she needs to take the final steps into our marriage. That’s what I need. Sure, she lets me fuck her when and how I like, but she doesn’t initiate. She calls me ‘big heart’ and sleeps in my bed, but she doesn’t answer when I say I love her. She’s here, but she’s not truly mine. A stress test is overdue.

Decided, I text Dare that I’ll be in the office today. It’s early enough that I’ll arrive by midmorning, which will give me enough time to deal with the landlord, meet the new employee, and take everyone out for lunch. Dare has the temerity to get excited about seeing me, and declares he’ll charge up one of his collectible GameBoys just for me, whatever that means.

Plans in place, I prepare to leave the house, a thrill in my stomach.

It’s past time, I tell myself, to test my hold on her.

***

Grace comes back from her walk salt-sprayed and wind-tousled, and I greet her with a cup of coffee.

“The wind’s crazy today,” she tells me, accepting the cup as she kicks off her shoes on the floating deck. Then she does a double take. “Why are you wearing a suit?”

I smile at the expression she can’t quite conceal—my girl still tries to pretend she doesn’t want me, but I see her eyes linger on my shoulders in their encasing silk.

“I have to go to Auckland. Will you be good on your own today?”

“Oh,” she blinks in surprise, “is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, love.” I steer her into the house, my hand on her elbow. “There are some things that need my big-boss signature. I should be back by early evening, and we can have dinner together.”

She stands in the middle of the bedroom, coffee cup in hand, her face moving through expressions. Shock. Dismay. Frustration.

I close my laptop case and sling the leather strap over my shoulder, ready to leave.

“Nate,” she says, her voice tentative, “can’t I come, too?”

I’ve got an answer prepared. “You’ll have the whole house and the whole day to get ahead on your work. I think Professor Eagan said he wanted your final revision by the end of this week? We’ll both do a big work catch-up and then,” I step close to cup her cheek, “we’ll have a proper reunion tonight.”

Grace pulls away, sets her cup down, then goes to the closet. “I can get ready within a couple of minutes, then we’ll head out.”

“Grace,” I say, following her. “I’m leaving and you’re staying. Shep freaks out when he’s left alone, and I can get Mihi to look in on both of you this afternoon. How does that sound?”

“You can’t just lump me into the same category as Shep and leave me home whenever you feel like it. I’m not your fucking dog, Nate.”

Her eyes are sparkling with defiance and she’s already gathered an armful of clothes. I should have anticipated this level of resistance, and my corresponding desire to put her in her place. My cock twitches.