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I take another drink of whiskey straight from the bottle. “And sometimes I want to hold you under water until the bubbles stop.”

She slaps my shoulder. “Listen to me. I’m older.”

“By one minute.”

“Still older,” she points out. “I was in the womb and was like, bitch, me first.”

Are you laughing at her?

Don’t encourage her.

Regardless, she’s right, I wouldn’t, but I also don’t know how I’m supposed to stop her.

“Why can’t I hate her?” I groan, staring at the ceiling.

Josie eyes her phone, smiling at a message before resting her head on my shoulder. “For the same reason she can’t hate you. Love. It’s a motherfucker.”

She’s absolutely right. It’s the worst emotion that’s ever existed.

CHAPTER25

Not what I expected

ABBI

Promise you won’t tell him everything.

Believe it or not,I’ve avoided sex since Jace and me… well, you know. Griff works nights so our days are limited together. I faked a period a couple weeks ago, headaches, nausea, and even resorted to telling him I had diarrhea once. Yep. Went there.

Until fifty-nine days after Christmas and he finds me in bed. He flips the light on in our room and lays beside me, the mattress dipping, and my body rolls toward his. It’s two in the morning and he wakes me up by prodding around my vagina like he knows what the fuck he’s doing.

“Griff, stop.” I push against his shoulders. “I’m tired.”

He’s not having it and rolls me over, pinning me to the mattress. “This is bullshit, Abbi. Take your clothes off.”

“What?” My stomach tightens, my swollen breasts so tender as he yanks my shirt up and latches his mouth onto my nipples. “Why are you being so rude about it?”

“Because it’s been two months,” he grunts, sucking on my breast. Pain shoots through them and I squint my eyes and arch away from him. “And if you expect me to go that long again, you’ve got another think coming. That won’t be happening in our marriage.”

My first thought is, has it been that long? My next, there are rules to marriage now?

I give in, but what choice do I have? It’s easier to do this, then to fight him on it. It’s emotionless.

His hand wraps around my neck, my pulse quickening. “You’re hurting me,” I cry out, my words constricted. “I can’t breathe.”

“I thought that’s what you like,” he growls and when the tears roll down my cheeks, his jaw clenches and he locks his stare on mine. “Oh, I see. It’s only when he does it.”

There’s a difference between passion and aggression and Griff doesn’t know a goddamn thing about what love looks like when it’s pushed to the edge of desire and consumption.

I stare at the ceiling, motionless until he comes and then I push him off me, crying harder.

He lays flat on his back, his breathing rough. “Why are you crying?”

I curl away from him, refusing to look at him. “Because I didn’t want it and you took it anyways.” I sob into my pillow, a new wave of nausea working through me

He swings his legs around the side of the bed, a grunt leaving his lips as he stands. “Like you didn’t enjoy it,” he mocks and moves toward the bathroom. “Your pussy tells me otherwise.”

I blow out a shaky breath, trying to steady my breathing. He doesn’t deserve my tears. He doesn’t deserve my heart.