“Why?” he asked. “I didn’t say I wanted to end the marriage.”
I didn’t know what to say. My lips parted, but nothing came out.
“Why are you here?” I kept my voice even so he wouldn’t know how worried I was.
He stared at me oddly before tilting his head slightly. The anger in his eyes softened just a little.
“My wife disappears in the night with all of her belongings, and you think I wouldn’t be worried?”
I wanted his words to mean something, but they didn’t, not really.
“No. I thought you’d find relief in my absence.” I lifted my chin in defiance.
Abram’s pretty green eyes narrowed on me, and I shrank under the surge of power radiating from him. Clearly, my answer had offended him.
“Did I ask you to leave?”
“No.” I shook my head softly.
“If I didn’t want you in our home, I would tell you.”
Our home. I scoffed. The words didn’t feel right.
“What?” he snapped.
“It’s your home, notourhome. I sleep on the godsdamn couch for fuck's sake.”
His nostrils flared at my comment. The tension between us thickened.
“Leave,” I told him as I turned my back to him.
“You’re my wife. I’m not leaving without you.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder with a glare.
“Well, I’m only your fake wife, so I think you’ll be fine if I don’t come back.”
Abram had always pushed my buttons. Before I could even object, Abram leaned down, grabbing me, and tossing me over his shoulder, and picked up my bag.
“Put me down,” I demanded.
“I will when we are inourhome,” he hissed right back.
This bastard. My hands clenched against his back.
I didn’t say a word as his magic wrapped around us. The sensation of moving through it made me feel sick. My eyes closed, and when I opened them, I already knew that we were back at his house. It smelled of him—night and smoke.
He slid me down the length of his body so I was facing him. I would not let myself be smitten by him again. My walls were up, and to make sure he understood that, I shoved away from him. That was when I realized we were in his bedroom. I looked away from the bed as if it were a reminder that he never wanted me in it.
“You will stay in here,” he said softly. He dropped my bag on the floor.
I didn’t say anything at first, but then he stepped toward me like he might reach for me, and I moved away from his touch. He frowned slightly but shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I’ll take the couch. You can save your bed for yourrealwife.”
I scoffed as I grabbed my bag and moved out of that suffocating space. Our food was no longer on the plates. The pot was on the stove, warming up. The smell was intoxicating, but I wasn’t hungry. I tossed my bag on the floor and slid my boots off. Abram’s angry steps slammed against the floor as he followed me.
“Do I need to apologize?” he asked.
