Marriage For One

She just kept her grip on my forearms and, as always, ignored what I’d just said. We had reached for each other at the same time. “I need to get back. I don’t want to keep Owen longer than necessary.”

“I know, and you will, but right now you need to sit your ass down and get well before you attempt to work for the rest of the day.” As much as I admired how hard she’d worked to get that place up and running, this was not the time for her to run around and get herself even more sick.

She looked up at me and nodded. That usual light, spark—call it whatever you want—was gone from her eyes. She looked scared and tired, and that pissed me off even more.

I helped her sit down and lean back as I took my spot next to her and managed to pry the water bottle out of her hands.

“I was going to drink that.”

“You’ll have it after you’ve rested enough that you can stay up on your own two feet and hold a water bottle at the same time.”

That earned me a sideways glance that I ignored. I was hoping for her to snap back at me like she always did. That was why I always provoked her, because I loved seeing that heat in her eyes, but she didn’t respond, and for her, even that side eye had been pretty weak.

As she was resting with her eyes closed, I leaned back too, my shoulder brushing hers. I ran a hand up and down my face, my stubble pricking my hand, having grown longer than what I was used to. Now, we’d have to wait twenty-four hours. It didn’t sound like much, but I didn’t know how I was even going to make it through the day yet.

Rose leaned to her left and hesitantly rested her head somewhere between my shoulder and chest. My body froze for a quick heartbeat. When it looked like she was settled, I gently pulled my arm away so she could get more comfortable and rested it on the back of the couch.

“How do I look, Jack?” she asked.

I couldn’t see her or her eyes, so I kept my gaze straight ahead on the white wall with the red poster.

“Like death warmed over,” I said.

I could hear the smile in her voice when she responded a few seconds later. “I can always count on you for compliments, can’t I?”

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

I wasn’t clear on how long we sat there like that, me breathing in her scent, but after a few minutes passed, my dick started stirring in my pants. It wasn’t the first time it had happened around her and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last either, but the timing was wrong, as it always was when it came to her. I didn’t know if her eyes were open or not, but to be safe, I rested my left arm across my lap in the hopes of hiding the rapidly growing hardness I knew was noticeable through my pants.

When her hand came on top of mine, adding more weight to what was already a painful situation for me, I groaned and closed my eyes. I was aware of every inch of her that was pressing against my body, and I couldn’t fucking do anything in that room.

She turned my watch enough so she could see the time then started playing with my wedding ring, just like I’d played with hers plenty of times.

“You never took it off,” Rose whispered.

I closed my eyes and tried my best to ignore what I was feeling. No, I never took it off. Didn’t want to take it off.

“I’m feeling a little better. We should leave,” she said after a few minutes.

When she was around, I felt like I had no control over myself. So, leaving worked just fine for me—if she really felt fine, that is. “Are you sure?” I felt her head move up and down on my chest in a nod, because her rubbing her face and scent all over me was exactly what I needed so I could think about nothing but her when I was back at the office. “I’ll drop you at Around the Corner then I need to go to the office.”

“Jack?”

“Hmm.” Finally, she lifted her head and looked up at me. With her warmth gone, I felt colder. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gave myself permission to touch her, in the name of helping her. I pushed back her hair that would not stay in place behind her ear. “Listening.”

“This wasn’t the deal.”

My forehead creased. “What deal?”

“Our marriage deal,” she said slowly.

Right. My brilliant idea. “What about it?”

“I’m aware that this isn’t what you signed up for. Let’s not fool ourselves—this is probably what they think it is. Two doctors, one of them a fancy ENT specialist, think this is most likely CSF, so I don’t know how or when I’ll be able to accompany you to your work events and dinners, but at least if the coffee shop tanks you’ll get the property faster and you won’t have to do the free rent—”