MEEKA'S POV::
I step out of the clothes I'm wearing and slip into the shower, letting the cold water wash over me.
I need this.... the shock of it, the stillness. And that's why I'm using the shower instead of the tub. I want the water to hit me hard. Maybe it'll cool my head before I completely lose it.
The water runs down my skin, easing some of the tension clawing at me, but not enough. My body still hums with restless energy, that same ache I've been trying to ignore all night. I grip the tiled walls of the shower and close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe through it.
Before I know it, I'm seeing Slade and that woman again. His groans echo in my head, and I can almost see his face, eyes dark, and jaw clenched, totally lost in her as she sucks him like her damn life depended on his d*ck.
The image burns behind my eyelids, twisting something inside me. My body aches, desperate for release, for something I know I shouldn't want or think about, because it's all about him.... Slade.
God. Now.... now I'm feeling the urge to touch myself. I want to touch myself until I get the release my body is craving.
"Damn it!" I moan, dragging my hands over my face, trying to push Slade out of my head.
I try to picture Nathaniel instead, his hands all over me, voice, fingers trailing the lower part of me. Just anything that isn't Slade.
But the moment I do, the spark I was chasing disappears. Just…. gone, totally.
A hollow ache replaces it, and I open my eyes in frustration, breath unsteady.
I snap my eyes open in total disappointment.
Then I exhale a long, shaky breath, the cold water still running down my body. My hair is completely drenched, clinging stubbornly to my face.
I look like a mess—well, a very beautiful mess.
Another breath escapes me as I reach out and turn the shower off.
Stepping out, I grab a towel and wrap it around myself before heading back to the bedroom.
Nathaniel's shirt lies on the chair. I grab it and pull it over my head. It's soft, faintly smelling of him, and it's adding to my annoyance. But I still want to wear it.
Pathetic, isn't it?
I shake my head, and I crawl into bed with one of my Kindles from the nightstand.
Yes. I have one here, just so you know.
I'd already planned to spend the night here, but right now, I wish I hadn't come at all. If I'd known my day would spiral this badly, I would've stayed in my own bed, alone.
Even after the bath, my head still pounds.
How does he always manage to do this? To get me so close, then walk away like nothing happened.
It's been a month.... maybe two, since we last had sex. And honestly? It's starting to drive me crazy. Every time I try to ignore it, it just gets worse.
Is this what marriage will look like? Me wanting more while he keeps pulling away?
Still…. a part of me keeps hoping things will change once we finally say "I do."
Yes. Things will definitely change.
I sink deeper into the sheets, the soft fabric brushing my bare legs, and I try to focus on the words on the Kindle screen. But the letters blur together, I can't even remember what chapter I'm on.
The sound of the door opening makes my chest tighten.
Nathaniel walks in quietly, the air shifting with him. His hair is still damp, his expression unreadable. For a second, I think he's going to say something, apologize maybe.
Unfortunately, I don't want to hear it. I quickly turn to the other side of the bed, facing the wall.
"Meeka…." his voice comes soft, careful, like he's afraid of what version of me he'll get.
"I'm reading," I mutter, eyes glued to the screen that I'm not even seeing. "And I don't want to be disturbed."
There's silence behind me, heavy and uncomfortable.
Then I hear him sigh. The bed dips slightly as he sits at the edge, the mattress sinking under his weight. I keep my body still, pretending not to care, even though my chest feels like it's being squeezed tight.
He stays quiet for a few seconds, then says, "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Didn't you?" My voice is sharper than I intended. "Because it's becoming a pattern, Nathaniel."
"Meeka…."
I let out a small, humorless laugh and toss the Kindle aside. "Forget it. I'm just tired, okay? It's been a long day."
He hesitates, as if deciding whether to push or back off, then finally mutters, "Alright. Rest, then."
The bed dips again as he lies beside me, but I don't turn around.
I stare at the wall, biting the inside of my cheek to keep me from saying something I'll regret.
Minutes stretch into silence, the only sound being our breaths, his steady, mine uneven.
And for the first time tonight, I realize something that stings more than anything Slade could ever say or do.
It's not just that Nathaniel doesn't touch me.
It's that I'm starting to forget what it feels like when he does.