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It was the most healing I had received in a month.
It was like a warm fire that thawed my bones. Once that blaze was extinguished, I was frozen once again. And miserable. And bitter.
As if that kiss had never happened, she was cold once again.
She only got dressed in the bathroom, and we didn’t snuggle in bed. The most affection I got from her was the occasional hug. But it was like hugging your aunt…no heat. It was practically obligatory.
What the fuck was I going to do?
A week went by, and our relationship didn’t improve. It was on a steady decline, getting worse and worse. I went to her office to pick her up at the end of the day, but I wasn’t sure if I could keep my rage bottled deep inside. I was angry with her, when I had no right to be. I was asking for something she couldn’t give.
But when I walked inside and saw the way she hardly looked at me, I snapped. “Look at me.” I stood in front of her desk and looked down at her, my hands in my pockets. I watched the way she looked over her paperwork like that was more important than I would ever be. I’d asked her not to shut me out, but she did it anyway. Now she was doing it worse than before. My voice didn’t rise, but its potency made the walls vibrate. I wasn’t angry at her…just angry with this ghost version of her.
She lifted her gaze and met my eyes, her entire body rigid with unease. That hostile fire wasn’t in her eyes like it used to be.
“Put that shit down and stand up.” I hadn’t spoken to her like this in a long time, but my patience had officially expired. “When your husband walks in the door, you give him your full attention. You hug him, you kiss him, and you make him feel like a king. I always treat you like a queen, and I demand that same respect.”
She slowly rose to her feet and looked extremely timid.
“I thought we’d made progress after our last conversation, but then I screamed at Damien, and you shut off. I know you suffered in ways I can never understand, but I suffered too. I took a beating that nearly killed me, and I don’t regret it because it gave me you. But I have emotional scars that I am carrying, and I need you to comfort me. This is a two-way street. This is a marriage. We need to be there for each other. So, stop treating me like I don’t matter. Treat me like your husband.”
Emotion welled in her eyes, but she didn’t form tears. Her arms crossed over her chest, and her gaze drifted down to the floor. Her right hand rubbed her left arm absentmindedly, like she was comforting herself under my stare.
“I told you to look at me.”
She lifted her chin once again and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry… I’m just stressed out right now.”
“I’m stressed out too. But that doesn’t stop me from loving…” I controlled my response before it turned into something I would regret. “It doesn’t stop me from being a husband to you.”
Her eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into mine. She didn’t seem to understand what I had been about to say, that I was about to tell her how much I loved her.
“This is the hand we’ve been dealt. We need to work to make it better. Shutting down and ignoring each other is not the solution. Working our asses off is a solution. You need to meet me halfway here.”
She tightened her arms around her body. “I know…”
“Then be better.”
She dropped her gaze.
“Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
She looked at the floor a moment longer before she lifted her chin to meet my look. There was no confidence in her eyes, just a look of fear. She responded with an answer that contradicted her expression. “No.”
She wouldn’t lie to me, so I let it go. “Then get your ass over here and kiss me.”
There was a pause of several seconds before she obeyed. She slowly moved around the desk before she walked up to me. She stopped when there was a foot between us, like she needed some space before she could give me what I wanted.
“I’m not asking for more than what you can give. I just want you…” I would never demand her to strip off her clothes and get into bed. I would never force her to rush into a physical relationship if she wasn’t ready. But I needed her affection, needed to know that we still had each other.
“Hades, it’s not you…”
“Sometimes it feels like it is.”
“It’s not… I promise. I just…”
“What?”
She took a long time to answer. “I’m just overwhelmed, I guess.”
