TWO WEEKS LATER
***
It turns out, Valen was really good at being at being good. And I hated good Valen.
Okay, so maybe hate was too strong of a word. But I have fantasized about different ways of murdering him at least two dozen times over the last two weeks.
He hasn’t touched me once! At least, not in the way that I wanted him to.
Oh, he’d been frustratingly helpful in every way possible. Helping me to stand. Helping me to sit. Helping me to lie down and get up. His hand rested at the small of my back whenever we were walking as if he was afraid I would trip over air molecules.
Feeding me! Brushing a careful kiss across my forehead. Stroking my hair.
I was losing my mind!
I was being tortured. Slowly and painfully. And I wasn't sure why.
I would have been worried that he didn't find me desirable anymore except every single night when he held me as we fell asleep, his desire was very evident. He just refused to act on them.