Exactly where we started.
“Not until you tell me the truth,Amira.”
Fucking come on!
Just say what’s on your mind so we can go back to being happy.
The tension between us simmers to a bearable temperature, but the wall she is so good at constructing is building back up. I can tell when the muscles in her neck relax, and a distorted version of tranquility settles over her features.
“I just haven't been feeling well.”
It’s not the entire truth, but it’s a start.
“What’s wrong, angel?” I ask, pushing myself off the door to pull her into my arms.
My hands run down her back, brushing over each notch in her spine until I reach the slight dip above her ass. There is where I rest my palms, hoping my warmth drives away the chill I feel pebbling on her skin.
The minute my muscles bunch around her waist, she tenses in my hold. Never once has she ever locked up in my embrace, but as I feel her straining muscles and the faint hiccups in her breathing. I can’t ignore the signs of her discomfort.
My stomach drops at the realization, knots twisting painfully in my throat as I release her. But when I see her feet take a few stumbled steps back from me, that’s when I feel my heart officially crack.
“Angel?”
“I think I’m just tired. I’m going to try to go back to sleep.”
I stand there, stunned, while I watch her slowly turn her back on me and slip into bed, her petite body disappearing under the heavy comforter as she faces the wall opposite of me.
I stare at her for a moment before reaching my hand behind me, fumbling with the knob before finally getting it open. Then, giving the lump in the bed one last look, I step from the room and close the door.
Standing outside of the room for I don’t know how many moments, I try to work up the strength to walk away and let her sleep, but I can’t.
My mind lingers on the unease I felt tainting our hug, and I feel myself crumble, knees buckling, forcing me to sink to the floor as my back rests against the wall.
Laying my head against the edging of the doorway, I close my eyes and try to breathe through the fucking python around my trachea.
I think over everything I could have done wrong in the past two days, but I come up blank.
We’ve been fine.
Maybe I’m just overthinking shit.
I don’t fucking know why my emotions are all over the place, but I need to get that shit in check because this stress is bound to fucking kill me.
Running my hand down my face, I let out a forced chuckle, feeling so much better now that I’ve blamed everything on hormones.
Jumping up from the floor, I strut to the living room, ready to down both of our coffees and attempt to cook us an edible breakfast, now that my stomach is no longer in knots.
When Amira wakes up, I promise myself that I will apologize for acting like a paranoid dick.
She’s fine.
We’re fine.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AMIRA
Ididn’t expect to fall asleep.
