Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 148184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
I lie on my side in our bed, which still smells like him. My skin feels clammy and sticky, but I don’t care. Even the faint throb in my neck reminding me I’m stuck here forever is more of a relief than anything else.
Or it would be. I spread my fingers across my still flat belly. At some point, I’ll need to speak to the doctor Adrian seems to keep stashed around here in a closet. Worse…I’ll have to tell Adrian and face whatever that flavor of his rage looks like. It’s not like I have a choice.
I peek over my shoulder at the clock, an ugly ornate thing I’ve never liked. Pity he didn’t smash that in his redecorating. It’s early in the morning. As if reminding me, my stomach lets out a large gurgle. Soon, I’ll have to venture out and find something to eat. For now, though, all I want to do is lie in this bed and savor the still lingering warmth his body left behind. The scent of him. The feel of his naked skin against my own.
A shiver rolls through me, and I curl sideways to grab the bunched-up bedding on the floor. Once I shake some glass from the folds, I drag it over my body. It smells like him too, and I inhale that spicy ginger scent of him all over. Gods, I love that smell. I love him. More than anything.
A slippery spiral of guilt worms through me. I left to protect our baby, and I left to protect him as well. Now that I don’t have a choice to leave again, I’ll have to trust him. Trust that he’s stronger than I’m giving him credit for. Trust he’s not the monster so many people told me he was when we first met. Not that I’ve seen any hint of that man since we’ve been married.
Is he stubborn? Volatile? Overbearing? Of course. But he’s never made me feel like a lesser person than him. Never made me feel like he’d hurt me for the enjoyment of it.
Or am I trying to rationalize things out of my own fear? I don’t know.
I clutch the blankets into a bunch and tuck them under my cheek, settling into the pillow to think about it more. Just as I let my eyes close, the door of our bedroom bursts open and hits the wall behind it with a heavy thud.
Adrian marches in, seemingly oblivious to the glass littering the floor, despite wearing nothing but his underwear.
Even with his handsome face lined in anger, he’s breathtaking.
I sit up, letting the covers fall into my lap. “Be careful. You’ll get glass in your feet.”
His only answer is to scowl at me. Then he tosses something on the bed and plants his fists down to surround it.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to look at what he’s hovering over or if I should stay still and wait to learn what else I’ve done to upset him.
“What do you have to say about this?” He stands and waves at the object.
This time, I pull the blankets to get a better look, and my heart stops dead in my chest. Frozen. I’m sure I look as frozen as I feel on the inside too. “I…”
No. I’m not ready to get into this with him. I thought I’d have a little time to prepare, figure out how to break it to him in a way that won’t get me tossed out or, worse, killed by his own hand.
While I’ve never felt unsafe when I’m with him, his temper is lightning quick sometimes. What if he reacts before thinking, and there’s no way back?
I swallow hard, trying to get more words out before he starts demanding them. “I…don’t know what you want me to say.”
“The truth.” His tone is calm and even, despite the rigid set of his shoulders and the tightening down his abs. “I only ever want the truth from you, Valentina. I thought I made that perfectly clear.”
He grabs the photo and moves it to the bedside table, facedown. I try not to flinch when he climbs up onto the bed beside me. He reaches out, but I can’t let him hold me, not with these secrets between us.
I shuffle backward as fast as I’m able, my throat still clogged on the words I need to say. All of them backed up and unable to break free. “I can’t…I don’t…” I know it’s not enough…not anywhere near enough to explain anything to him.
Tears build now and flow down my cheeks. I ball my fists and turn away. I’m so fucking tired of crying. It’s the only thing I seem to do well.
“Valentina,” he snaps.
Of course, he’s expecting my attention, my obedience, but I can’t give it to him. Not in this, not yet, at least. We need more time to solidify things…springing this on him would only make it worse.