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And it’s not even about the sex. Or the fact that he doesn’t trust me to know my own mind and body. It’s that he won’t accept this part of him. There are graves out there, dirt hiding the bodies of men he’s killed, but he won’t accept that he likes a little pain with his sex and that I can give him that.
A part of him wants me to be the virginal virtuous wife he married, but that girl is gone. Hell, I’ve shed that skin completely. The woman I am now loves his sharp edges, but he won’t accept that part of me either. That he married a woman who can enjoy hurting him that way.
I toss and turn in the gray dawn light, his shirt still wrapped around me, now tangled up in the luxurious bedding. Every piece of me wants to go back to our bed, apologize for what I said, for hurting him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve never stood up for myself before, but it’s high time I started. Especially if he continues this pattern after our child is born.
Well, that’s what he thinks at least. Hopefully, he’s starting to understand that we’ve both changed for the better.
It hurts me that he doesn't realize that. If he doesn't know that he's changed, how can he see that I have?
I shift back into the pillows and try to get comfortable. No matter how this bed feels, it doesn't feel perfect without his warm weight wrapped around me. But how can we keep going on like this? He's stopped trusting himself and me. Neither of us can live like this. I don't want the same kind of relationship as my parents or so many other high society families have.
The image of his hand wrapping around my neck comes back to me in a flash, and I close my eyes, savoring it. Who knows when I'll get that again.
I check the clock, then consider rising to get dressed and find breakfast. To be honest, I'm surprised he let me sleep away from him all night. A tiny part of me is expecting to open my bedroom door and find him leaning against the frame. I don't know. Maybe he realized he’d gone too far in his protection strategy. Knowing him, though, there likely isn't such a thing as too far in his mind.
None of it matters, though, because I'm hurt. Not in the easily dismissible way married couples argue. No, I feel like he's rejecting me in favor of our child, which is utterly ridiculous.
I resettle in the bed and decide against breakfast. Leaving this room means I will have to face him, and I doubt he'll let me walk away from him again. It's probably a cowardly move, but it's not like anyone is here to judge me for it.
I barely think the thought when a soft knock starts at the door.
“Go away!” I shout. It doesn't even matter who stands on the other side. I'm not in the mood to speak to anyone.
It comes again, this time harder and more urgent. “Valentina?”
It takes me a moment to realize Kai is the one knocking, but I still don't want to talk to him.
He calls my name again, and I let out a long huff. “I said go away. If you’re here for him, I don't want to speak to you because he's perfectly capable of finding me himself. If you’re here for you, I don't think we have anything to talk about.” I don't bother raising my voice. If he hears me, great; if not, I don't care. It's not like he'll walk in without my permission. If Adrian found him inside my bedroom, he'd kill him outright.
“You're acting like a child, Valentina,” he calls.
It's on the tip of my tongue to call him out for that low blow, but I don't. It actually works. Shame zings through me until I'm clutching the covers up under my chin to hide from it. How many times did my father use that same taunt? It had been his favorite way to berate me.
I'm about to give him a piece of my mind when the door rumbles heavily, and the hallway goes quiet. A flash of fear skitters through me, thinking he might barge in despite knowing how Adrian would react.
But nothing else happens. The doorknob doesn't turn. No one enters.
“I'm not leaving until you talk to me. I'm going to sit right here in this hallway and shout at you through the door until we can have a discussion,” he says loudly through the wood.
The sound must have been him sitting down to lean against the door. I giggle at the absurdity of him sitting on the floor in the hallway in thousands of dollars worth of wool.
