<b>Chapter </b><b>65 </b>
<b>I </b><b>stood </b>up <b>slowly </b>from that <b>little </b>flirty move and gave <b>Jared </b><b>a </b><b>soft </b><b>smile</b>. <b>“</b>Honey, <b>I </b><b>just </b><b>started </b>practicing. You’ve <b>been </b><b>traveling </b>for <b>days</b><b>. </b>You must <b>be </b>wiped out. Why don’t you head up to bed?”
I was being sweet and thoughtful, but instead of appreciating it<b>, </b><b>his </b>face got even more tense. Looked like he’d already taken
<b>a </b>shower.
He was on a gray pajama <b>set</b>, and his short hair was still a little damp, kinda messy<b>. </b><b>It </b>gave him that rugged, <b>grown</b>–man charm that honestly made him look even more attractive.
But honestly, I <b>was </b>over that <b>face</b>. No matter how good–looking he was, I was <b>just </b>tired of it. “Stop practicing and go to bed,” he said, his tone heavy, like he wasn’t asking, he was telling.
“You go ahead. I’ll be up in a bit,” I said, trying to keep things calm and avoid pushing his buttons.
But he <b>was </b>still pissed. He turned on his heel and went upstairs without another word. I kept practicing for another half hour. It helped loosen me up. I felt more at ease as I made my way upstairs.
When I walked into the master bedroom and didn’t see him there, I kind of smiled to myself. I’d gotten to him. He left because he <b>was </b>that annoyed.
I went to take a shower. As the hot water ran down my shoulders, I realized my mind feltpletely clear. I was rxed, at peace in a way I’d never known in my previous life.
Back then, theter the night got, the more restless I’d feel, like my chest was crawling with ants. I’d wait, hopeful, only to be let down again and again.
Every time I saw that cold look on his face, it crushed me a little more. It drained my spirit day by day.
But now, no expectations meant no disappointments. After I finished showering, I let my long hair fall over my shoulders. The thin straps of my nightgown framed my corbones just right. My skin looked soft and dewy, like it had drunk up the moisture.
I opened the bathroom door, ready to start my nighttime skincare routine. Then I saw someone lying on the other side of my bed.
I was <b>a </b>little surprised. Jared had been acting weirdtely. He was somehow full of energy. I ignored him and went straight to my skincare. After a few minutes of applying lotion, I heard footsteps behind me.
I froze. A cool feeling touched my neck. Then, in the mirror, I saw a thin chain with a teardrop pendant around my neck. “You like it?” Jared leaned down, admiring the view with me in the mirror.
I was wearing a purple silk nightgown. That color was tricky, but it popped against my tender skin. The ne made the whole look feel kind of fancy.
“Thanks, honey.” Jared had just given me a pricey gift. I wasn’t about to say no.
“How you gonna thank me<b>?</b><b>” </b>Jared’s voice dropped low and husky. His lips brushed the back of my neck, sending warmth through me.
I shivered. Before <b>I </b>could say anything, he suddenly bent down and scooped me up from the chair. “Give yourself to me.”
Lately, <b>Jared’s </b>behavior had been so out of character. I remembered how he barely wanted to touch me before. No matter how much I tried, he never responded.
Chapter <b>65 </b>
But <b>now</b>, <b>when </b>I <b>didn’t </b><b>want to </b><b>be </b><b>close</b><b>, </b><b>he </b><b>was </b>all <b>over </b><b>me</b><b>. </b>“Honey<b>, </b>I’m kinda tired.”
<b>Even </b><b>though </b><b>I </b><b>just </b><b>epted </b>his <b>gift </b><b>and </b>didn’t want to ruin the mood, I thought about <b>all </b>the times he used this excuse to brush <b>me </b>off. I wanted him to feel <b>what </b>that <b>was </b>like.
<b>Jared </b>nted both hands by my shoulders<b>, </b>staring into my eyes with that intense gaze. “Honey.” I looked <b>up </b><b>at </b>him and pleaded, “How about another night?”
He cut me off with a fierce kiss<b>, </b>not letting me say a word. I could feel his anger <b>all </b>over. Weirdly, that made <b>me </b>feel a little satisfied. He got mad just because I stole <b>his </b>line.
When Jared was mad, he got, well, intense in certain ways. Guess I asked for it. He pressed me close and bit my shoulder. His voice <b>was </b>rough. “Victoria, you’re my wife. Say something <b>sweet</b>.<b>” </b>
AD