Shirtless.
“Oh, um, I didn’t—we’ll just—”
“I was just dropping Mayah off,” Sura says quickly. She shoves me inside, her hand slapping my back. “Goodnight!”
The door slams shut, leaving me alone with my husband.
My cheeks flush with traitorous warmth.
I try not to look. I really do.
But my faithless eyes find the naked expanse of his torso.
Tides, it isn’t fair that he’s so beautiful.
Tanned skin, cut muscles, that fine smattering of hair—
My breath catches.
The neat row of pale scars carved across his chest.
A vise clamps around my throat, and then I’m blinking rapidly. “I’ll just … I’ll get ready for bed,” I mumble, my voice thick. I duck into the bathroom before he sees my tears.
Minutes later, I emerge in my indecently short nightgown, but Zev’s already extinguished the lanterns. Moonlight filters through the window, casting a faint glow over the room. On the sofa, two long legs dangle over the armrest, crossed neatly at the ankles.
Disappointment wells in my chest. I shove it down and settle beneath the covers. Alone.
I try to sleep—eyes clenched shut, counting until I lose count, then starting over. Still, my ears perk, desperate to catch even a faint sigh, the shifting of pillows. A whispered declaration of love.Something.
But there’s nothing. I may as well have been alone.
Eventually, my counting pays off. My eyelids drift shut naturally, not forcefully, sleep just beginning to embrace me.
Then, I hear it.
The sharp patter of rain on glass. The sudden, rattling boom of thunder. Our room is lit aglow for a heartbeat.
Blood fills my mouth—I bit my tongue.
Deep steadying breaths. You can do this, Mayah.
My panicked, racing heart disagrees.
Mama’s blurry face flashes behind my eyelids. It’s the night the storm took her. My breath catches on a sob I don’t release.
Another loud crack of thunder shakes the room.
My lips part, Zev’s name on my tongue—but my words turn to ice.
My wrist was cramping. I needed you to finish quickly.
His cruel words crash into my mind from the last time I sought—he offered—his comfort. So, I don’t say anything, just burrow deeper beneath the blankets as if that might protect me.
Maybe I’ll faint soon, and he’ll think I’ve fallen asleep.
I don’t.
I’m a pathetic, whimpering mess, teeth piercing my lower lip to cage in the sounds of terror.
