Page 78 of A Summoned Husband

“Thank you,” I muttered. “And sorry.”

“For?”

Annoyance further rattled me. I hated that shit. Apologizing and then having to address the seed I planted that warranted it. I said sorry, but it was never enough. I always had to dig that shit up and lay it out. I was too exhausted for it, but also not a complete asshole.

“For you coming when I called and helping me with the witch.”

“I need no apology for that, Eden. There will never be a time when you call for me that I do not come.”

His answer made me smile before I forced it away. “That’s not true though, is it?” I forced myself to look at him just in time to watch the grin he wore drop at the edges.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… once you get whatever it is you want… once you undo whatever I did, then we won’t be married anymore. Right?”

Why did those words leave a bitter taste in my mouth?

I wasn’t the relationship type. I was blissfully single. I liked to see people when I wanted to see them, do the things I wanted to do, and then walk away without any ties. Without any shackles attached to my wrists or pulling at my ankles with each step. Without a key implanted in my chest. So why was the thought of him suddenly being gone from my life after doing nothing but causing chaos making me feel empty?

“I…” His words hung in the air.

His answer was something that would damage me, and I was already too tired. “It’s okay. Just forget about it. I have way too much—” I swayed, my hand pressed to my head as spots distorted my vision and my saliva thinned in my mouth.

“You, what?”

My head fell slightly back, my breathing erratic as I pushed heated breaths out of my nose but couldn’t manage to suck one in. I reached up, gently prodding in my hair as my skull started to throb.

I pushed past the acerbity of my conversation with Gran and Abuela to recollect things. The witch had come into my room. Gran was being strangled, Abuela was thrown, I was knocked off my feet and I hit my back.

Did my back hurt?

All I could feel was the hammer being slammed off rhythm into the back of my head. It annoyed me it didn’t keep a beat. If I was going to be tormented by pain, it could at least sound — or feel — better than this off-pace two-step.

Christ.

Or… not Christ.

Was it still appropriate to use that as a cuss if I didn’t fully believe anymore? Maybe it was more appropriate.

Weariness and numbing pain made my head feel like a boulder being supported by a twig as I tried to keep it steady. I felt six drinks in only I was stone-cold sober. What a drag.

A faltered step made the back of my heel hit the leg of my bedframe as I tripped.

“Eden!”

I was falling.

My eyes clutched closed as I embraced what was going to happen. My arms were too heavy to stop it and I was just too tired to do anything about it.

Warmth embraced me and I curled into it as all the sound around me smothered. It was like listening to something underwater or with my pillow curled around my head as I tried to make out the words.

Then, I realized I didn’t want to. I just wanted to sleep.

Life was so much easier when I was asleep. When all I had was dreams that I could change on a whim or wake up from.

My life was a nightmare and I dreaded being awake.

Sleep… sleep was good.