Page 14 of His Tesoro

I went to her room and knocked on the door. When there wasn’t an immediate answer, I strode in to find my wife curled up under the covers, facing away from me. That weird twinge in my chest started again. Maybe I needed to see the doctor to make sure I wasn’t having a heart attack.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sounding loud and harsh in the silent room.

Sofiya jolted, and I realized she’d been sleeping.

“Matteo?” She scrambled to sit against the headboard. She kept her eyes averted, tension lining her shoulders. Her oversized black sweatshirt made her look pale, eyes shadowed by dark circles.

“What are you doing?” I asked again, this time trying to control my voice.

“I was sleeping. Sorry,” she added in a whisper. Her hands twisted in the covers.

“Why are you sorry?” I took a few steps towards the bed.

“You seem angry.”

I had been angry, but it was hard to hold on to the emotion when staring down at this frail girl.

I let out a loud sigh, unsure where to take this conversation. “I heard you’ve been in this room since yesterday.”

She nodded but didn’t offer an explanation for her absurd behavior.

“Have you eaten?”

She bit her lip, eyes briefly meeting mine before she looked away again. I clenched my jaw to stop myself from demanding she keep her eyes on me.

“I had a candy bar in my bag,” she mumbled.

“You ate a candy bar?” She’d holed up in her room all day and night with a single candy bar?

To my horror, her bottom lip started trembling and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do or what the rules are. I can do better. Just tell me what to do.”

I stood frozen as Sofiya curled in on herself, her shoulders shaking. Nothing in my training had prepared me for this.

“Stop crying,” I snapped.

Sofiya made a tiny hiccuping sound and pursed her lips together to silence her sobs.

I ran my hand down my face. Should I call someone? My sister would know what to do. But calling someone else right now would be to admit I’d been defeated by this girl.

Clenching my jaw to keep myself from lashing out, I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, and my mood soured even further. I removed my hand.

“Will you tell me what I did wrong?” she asked softly.

I furrowed my brow. “Nothing. But you need to eat. Come on.”

I stood as she put her legs over the side of the mattress. She reached for her walker with shaky hands, fingers white as she clenched the handles. My scowl deepened as she tried to stand and fell back to the bed.

“What’s wrong?” For once, I wished I knew how to speak… gently or some shit like that.

“Sorry, I’m just a little shaky.” She bit her lip and took a deep breath, as if bracing for something. “Could you get my wheelchair?”

Her wheelchair was in the corner of the room. It would be easy for me to get it for her, but for some reason, I found myself leaning down and picking her up. Her front was plastered to my chest, and her arms flew around my neck, her legs cradling my hips. I knew now she could move them, but I clearly needed to understand her medical issue. For now, that could wait. One of my arms supported her waist and the other moved under her ass.

“I can really just use my chair,” she said. Her breath ghosted against my neck, causing me to tighten my hold. When was the last time I’d been this close to someone? I had fucked women while touching less of their bodies.

“Am I hurting you?” I asked, voice low.

“No.”

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