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What had I done wrong? Didn’t he like to be touched like that?
I felt the groan more than I heard it. It was on the verge of a tortured laugh. I
blinked, trying to figure out my husband. He lifted my hand and firmly pressed
it, palm flat, against his sternum. “It stays there.”
He lowered his head back to the pillow then extinguished the lights.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to make you feel
that way.”
Cassio grunted, almost a chuckle. “I’m not uncomfortable, and I know that
you don’t mean to make me feel the way I feel. That is the problem. Now sleep.”
The last was an order.
I gave up trying to figure out the meaning of his words. I wasn’t a mind
reader either. Yawning, I settled more firmly against him and closed my eyes.
Silence settled over us and my breathing eventually slowed as tiredness
overcame me.
Cassio tensed. “Are you going to fall asleep like that?”
“You wanted me to sleep.”
“I do. On your side, not in my arm.”
My stomach dropped. This shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Cassio was
my husband, but only by name. I didn’t have strong feelings for him—or even
knew him at all. Not saying anything from fear of giving away more than I
intended, I scrambled as far away from him as I could.
My side of the bed was cold, not warm like Cassio’s. I swallowed my hurt
and my longing, trying to breathe evenly. Still, tears fell from my eyes.
I could make out the outline of Cassio’s head and knew he was watching me.
The knowledge that the dark hid my expression from him gave me little
consolation because I had a feeling he knew I was crying from the way my
breathing had sounded.
“I can’t sleep with someone close to me. Anyone,” he murmured.
I nodded, because words were out of the question.
“I guess it’s fitting that my second wedding night ends the same way my first
did—with my crying wife in bed beside me.”