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He reiterates in a firm voice, "We aren't playing. You're my wife. I love you. The last thing I'm going to do is play right now. Do you understand?" Desperation is laced in his affirmation and his expression.
It pains me so much, and I wonder how much more I can take. I lift my chin, blinking fast, claiming, "I can't do this right now. Please obey the rules that you created. I'll stay in the guest bedroom." I push past him, moving toward the hallway.
"Blakely, stop," he orders.
It's one of the few times in my life that I don't obey Riggs. I step into the guest room and lock the door, more unsure about what's happening between us than ever before.
I ignore his pounding on the door. I shower, and all is quiet when I exit the bathroom. My heart bleeds as I slide under the covers, pulling the silky sheets around me and staring at the door.
I have no more tears. A few times, I get out of bed and pace the room, holding myself back from going into our suite and climbing into bed with him.
But I never do. Riggs crossed too many lines. The walls between us only got thicker tonight. I try to see where he's coming from, but his actions are like bees stinging me at full force.
I finally fall asleep and dream I'm in Maui. Riggs and I are on the beach in our wedding attire. He keeps promising, "I vow to prove you wrong and work on my faults."
Each time he says it, I state, "I vow to always accept all of you, your faults and all."
I sit up in bed, covered in sweat. It's still dark outside, and I go into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I stare at the mirror, hearing Riggs's voice say his vow.
And after the events at the club, I wonder if he thinks he's working on his faults.
Then I feel guilty. Am I any better than Riggs when I promised to accept his faults and am struggling to do so?
There are no answers. And when the sun rises, I get out of bed and stare out the window.
My heart beats faster. Riggs is on his surfboard, riding a wave until it breaks near the shore. His wet, dirty-blonde hair falls over his eyes in thick sections. His wetsuit displays his muscles.
He approaches the shore, tosses his board, and unzips the top of his wetsuit, displaying his tattoos.
I take a deep breath, holding myself back from running outside and tossing my arms around him.
I decide that life is cruel when I can want someone so much yet can't figure out how to have them. Especially when he's right in front of me.
18
Riggs
A Few Hours Earlier
The morning light tries to break through the darkness. I sit against the wall, staring at the guest bedroom's door, unable to reduce the frustration flowing through my veins.
All night, I've beaten myself up, replaying the events at the club. I've always gotten it right before. I've always known what my subs needed, so how could I have been so misguided about what my own wife needed?
The thought of Princess's face near my pet's body makes my stomach flip. All I want is my wife back, but I'm now further from her than I was before I stepped into the club.
Pink hues streak across the sky. I rise and walk to the window, staring at the ocean. The itch to reclaim something intensifies, even if it's my beachfront hobby and not Blakely.
I glance at the door a final time, then leave the hallway. It feels like I haven't surfed on this beach forever, and it's the first thing I've looked forward to in a long time. I step past the kitchen and then freeze.
My keys are on the table.
She can't leave.
How am I going to keep her here?
Agitation continues to burn in my soul, and I finally decide to lock up the phones, car keys, and laptops in the safe. My pet won't be able to drive away or call anyone to pick her up. I can surf without the added worry of her leaving me again.
I take everything to the office and put them inside, right next to all the items I took from her father's safe. It bugs me how Blakely seemed upset with me for telling her what is hers. And it's another issue she'll have to get past. There's no way I'm keeping her father's stuff. It belongs to her. She's owed what I took from him, but that'll have to be a fight for another day.
