The Amendment (The Contract 2)

At night, the small space between us stretched like a chasm neither of us was able to cross. On occasion, I would wake to find our fingers intertwined, but when he woke, he pulled away.

He was polite and distant. Every day, I watched helplessly as he pulled away from us a little more. The shadows in his eyes grew deeper, his silences longer, and his incentive minimal. He went through the motions, but it was as if he was no longer there.

Gone were his kisses and gentle caresses. If I leaned close to brush a kiss to his cheek, I felt the way he stiffened, holding himself rigid. He didn’t reach for my hand or wrap his arms around me the way he had done when he first woke up in the hospital. He would pat Gracie’s head or kiss her cheek, but the closeness she craved from him was denied. There were no cuddles, no shared amusement at one of their private jokes. He held Heather gingerly, cringing when she would shift, finding any excuse to give her back to me. On the occasion he would offer a kiss or a hug, it was brief, cool, and distant.

I grieved for him. His body was there, but his mind and spirit were missing.

It affected us all. Gracie was clingy and needy. Heather fussed. I had trouble sleeping and, for the first time in our marriage, was out of bed long before Richard ever moved in the mornings.

I wasn’t sure how much longer we could do this for. My pleas to Richard fell on deaf ears, and I was too proud to tell Laura and Graham how bad things were.

With a sigh, I grabbed a towel and rubbed my hair briskly. I stood, flipping the wet strands over my shoulders, and met Richard’s gaze in the mirror. I was surprised to see him, as he usually stayed in bed until I was out of the room and busy with the girls.

“Hi,” I whispered.

He slipped his razor into the charger and ran his hand along his jaw. “I was getting scruffy.”

I stepped closer and ran my finger along his chin. “Much better,” I agreed and smiled, unsure of how he would react to me touching him.

He returned my smile with one of his own. It was cautious, gentle, and hinted at the playfulness I had been missing from him.

I traced the scar that ran along his forehead. “This is looking better. It gives you that bad-boy look.” I winked. “You carry it well.”

My breath caught as he captured my hand in his and looked at it, then lifted his eyes to mine. The swirling hazel of his irises captivated me as always. Keeping our gazes locked, he lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the skin. He breathed my name, the sound long and sad.

“Katy.”

“Richard.” I echoed his sigh.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly his hand was wrapped around my neck, pulling me down to him. His mouth molded to mine in a hard press of our lips, then his tongue swept inside. Tasting, probing, sliding velvet along mine. He ravished my mouth, his touch vanishing the aching need I’d been feeling, filling me up with hope. Desire. Want.

For a moment, he was my Richard. We were us, and the world was right.

I moaned low in my throat, pushing closer. His hands slid on my wet skin, yanking me tight. I felt his growing erection press up against me.

But then he pushed me away. Gasping, shocked, and naked, I stood in front of him, my towel falling down from the sudden movement.

His chest heaved, and his hands became claws on the armrests.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t.”

“Richard, please,” I begged. “Let me in.”

He stared, his eyes wild. He spun the chair around and was gone.

He left me alone and broken.RICHARD“Gracie, stop it,” I ordered. “I can’t cope with you and your sister right now.”

She frowned, furrowing her brow the same way Katy did when confused. Normally, I would find it adorable—today, I found it annoying. I glanced at my watch. How long was Katy going to be in the shower?

“What’s cope, Daddy?” she asked, milk dripping from her spoon as she stared at me.

I stifled my groan. She was getting milk everywhere. Heather refused to eat, fussing and fretting as I tried to slip the nipple into her mouth. She squirmed and pushed at me, and I struggled to keep her in my arms. Gracie was chatting nonsense, the same way she did every morning, and usually it was endearing and I would listen to her intently, but things had changed, and I wasn’t in the mood.

I was never in the mood anymore.

My body ached, my head hurt, and I was impatient. I hadn’t slept well again, and all I wanted was to be alone. I needed time to think without people hovering and my thoughts always interrupted.