Page 52 of The Wrong Husband

The next time I woke up, he was carrying me to bed.

"Would you mind if I didn't wear these heavy clothes?" I asked as he settled me into bed.

"Are you asking me if I mind that you want to be naked in front of me?"

I grinned. "Yeah, dumb question."

"You want me to find you something else to wear?"

I slept naked, and I was most comfortable that way. I lived alone. I slept alone. I never had to give a shit about someone's propriety being compromised by my nudity.

He didn't turn around as a gentleman would and I told him so.

"Em, I'm not a gentleman," he countered.

I knew he got an eyeful of my tits before I was ensconced under my cozy comforter.

He went around the loft and turned all the lights off except for the two small reading lamps, which were screwed into the wall above my bed.

"I'm good. You can go now."

He didn't reply, just started to take his clothes off.

"Buddy, what do you think you're doing?" I demanded, slightly panicked. "Just because I took my clothes off doesn't mean there will be any hanky panky."

"I'm sleeping with you," he informed me and then like he had every right, ordered, "scoot over."

I made space for him. I slept in the middle of the bed cause of the alone living thing. I didn't have a side. I had the whole bed. Mine was a queen size and I sprawled in it, moved around, took up space. I was a power sleeper.

He turned off the reading lamps and settled in beside me.

"How did you know I moved out?" I asked him as we both lay on our backs, staring at the ceiling.

"Pablo came to my office this morning to tell me you resigned. I called and got your voicemail. I then talked to Liza."

I turned so I was laying on my side, facing him. He did the same. We could see each other in the dim light filtering in from the streets.

"Why didn't you come to your place these past weeks?" I asked.

I wasn't someone who made such inquiries. Ask my family and they'll tell you I'd rather not hear their answers to my questions because I knew they would hurt me. With Damian I seemed to have no problem doing so— even though I knew that his answers could hurt me.

"I was afraid that if we were in the same house together, I'd get into your bed and fuck you blind."

I'd imagined him saying lots of things.

I didn't want to share my space with an ugly person like you.

I don't like you.

You trapped me in a marriage, and I hate you.

"I thought the sex we had was…well, you didn't like it."

"I never said that. You assumed that and I let you." He cupped my cheek. "You're so fucking beautiful, Em."

"You don't have to throw out lines, Damian, I'm not gonna fuck you…tonight. I'm too tired. Maybe when I'm feeling better, and I've had a three-course meal."

His finger traced my cheek. "You are lovely. You're all angles and smooth curves and I find it erotic to touch your body, feel you."