Page 15 of Mine to Worship

“And if I do and still decide to leave you?”

Kian crumples the sheet, his Adam’s apple dipping with a swallow. “Then I’ll let you go.”

I will be free of you, husband. You’ll never earn my trust back. And love without trust is doomed to fail.

The distrust between us has blown our foundation to smithereens. I have a baby to think about. I need someone I can trust and, even though he may be telling the truth, it still hurts. It’s hypocritical of me when I think I used his weakness to hurt him back but that just proves that we’re not good for each other. Why doesn’t he see that? A headache throbs in my temples and I rub them.

“Fine, one month.”

“We have a deal then, wife.”

Confusion and tiredness crash in on me and I close my eyes.

“I am tired.”

“Sleep then, angel.”

A small smile lifts the corner of my lips, and I huff.

“Whatever you’re doing, it won’t work,” I warn, but the twitch of my heart makes a liar out of me.

His lips brush mine. His body heat and scent drug my senses. “Are you sure?”

No, I’m not because deep down, I’m relieved he is here, that he came. But the lingering hurt overshadows it. Confusion tears me apart.

“Stop playing games.” I put my hands against his chest, intending to push him away.

He curls his hand around one of mine. “I have never played. Not with you. It would have been stupid to play with my heart, don’t you think?”

Why does he say things that melt my resolve and make me ache for him, for more of his words, and love? I sigh, and he caresses my cheek.

“I’ll win you back—your trust, your heart, your body. I will earn each of them back.”

I push myself on my hands and look straight into his eyes. We’re locked in a battle of wills.

“Never,” I say with a confidence I don’t feel.

“We’ll see.” He crams himself in the cushioned-back chair and props his elbow against the wooden frame. “My place is at your side, angel. Stop telling yourself differently.”

I turn my back to him and slip into sleep, his words reverberating through my head.

I shift my position, my back hurting from the long hours on bed rest. The sight of the empty chair creates a hollowness inside of me. It’s hard when he’s around me, it’s worse when he’s not.

Kian walks into the room and my traitorous heart leaps. He’s carrying a brown and pink Paradise Donut bag. The scent of sugar and fried dough and sweet cream invades my mouth.

“Is that…? How?” I would have known if there was a franchise around here. Only two exist, and they are both in Las Vegas.

“I called the manager of the store, and he prepared some and I had them flown in.”

I shake my head at him, biting to hide the smile. That’s so Kian, no regard for common sense. No, I am staying strong.

He places the box in my lap. While I unwrap it, he steals a kiss.

“Hey!”

“Good morning, wife.” Full lips stretch into a smile, dissolving my protest. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

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