Page 79 of A Debt of Darkness

My tone is sharp and my words forced.

She looks away and the color drains from her face. She’s staring at the painting on her wall, hoping to find calm in the collage I spent a fortune on. Ivy’s mind is whirling as she tries to find her words, searching for a way to tell me what the fuck is wrong.

“I didn’t like it.”

She bursts into tears and avoids making eye contact with me.

“I hated it. They looked at me like I was a fucking object. A toy they couldn’t wait to play with.” She sobs a stuttered breath and threads her fingers together. “I tried so fucking hard for you and…”

She breaks.

Fuck.

Ivy isn’t pushing because she wants to test her boundaries. She knows exactly where they are. She’s after a different reaction. She wanted me to see her. To reach for her. To stop and pay attention to her bad behavior and recognize how hurt she is.

I’ve been cold when she needed warmth.

I’ve grown harder when she needed softness.

I’ve let her pull away when I needed to close the gap.

Ivy’s not unsure, she’s certain. She went further than she was ready for because I asked her to—needed her to—and it frightened her. She needs reassurance and kindness. She needs understanding unless I’m going to railroad over her feelings.

With any other pet, I would.

But not with her. Never with her.

Ivy’s my wife and I’m changing as much as she is. She’s made me different and it’s as clear as fucking daylight that I’ve got to do better. She deserves more and this mistake is mine. All mine. I’ve not communicated properly and it’s led to the rift between us.

She sobs and bats my hand away, collapsing and resigned to facing a punishment she doesn’t deserve. Perhaps she’s imagining I’ll return her to the dungeons. Maybe she thinks it’ll be even worse. She’s drifting on uncertain tides and they’re carrying her away from me.

“Ivy.”

My voice is a whisper in storm and it doesn’t silence her sobbing.

I’m not good at this. I’ve never tried to stop tears flowing before. I’ve enjoyed them and encouraged them. But not these. These are bitter and they’re full of pain I don’t want from her. For her.

“Ivy, look at me.”

She shakes her head and my heart demands I do more.

“Lea.”

Her eyes snap up and plead for me to help her.

“Sit with me.”

Ivy’s brows knit together and she stares at me, uncertain. She didn’t expect this and she frets while I start relaxing.

“Come, lea. I promise to make it better.”

She huffs and walks over, stopping short of the sofa. Ivy’s not being defiant, she’s uncertain in the absence of clear instruction. Fuck, we’ve got to work on our communication. I’ve misinterpreted far too many things, leaving too much unsaid.

“Sit.” I pat my lap.

Her teeth roll over her lips and I’m going to devour them soon.

Ivy slides onto my lap, more hesitant than I’d like.

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