Page 68 of Sin and Redemption

Even though I was touched by his words and tempted to bury myself in my own trauma as I had done previously, I didn’t want that for us anymore.

“That’s not how it should be in a marriage. I want you to know that your feelings matter to me, and I want to take them into consideration. I know I haven’t done a good job of that in the past.”

Maximus didn’t contradict me. Instead, he tried to lighten the mood. “Does waking you up with my nightmare equal stealing your blanket?”

“No. I still want to share a bed with you at home.”

If I’d known that spending a weekend in the Hamptons with Amo and Greta and their nonstop public displays of affection would lead to Sara and me sharing a bed, I would have done it a long time ago, even if I felt like a weakling for waking her with my nightmare. Sara was still asleep beside me, curled up on her side, her lips slightly parted. The blanket had gathered at her waist, but her pajamas protected her modesty well. I stifled a chuckle.

I had briefly harbored hope that she would wear something sexy and maybe even be up for some intimacy after our last sexual encounters, but I shouldn’t be surprised that Sara wasn’t up for sex during her period. I had no business being bitter about it. Fuck, I should be grateful she tolerated my closeness at all. We made progress, and that was enough.

Her eyes fluttered open, and a look of confusion passed on her face before she sat up with a shy smile. “Hey, how long have you watched me sleep?”

“I didn’t really watch you. I was lost in thoughts.”

She sent me a doubtful look. “What were you thinking about?”

I considered lying, but that wasn’t what I wanted for this marriage. “About our progress.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It’s good,” I agreed.

When we returned home in the afternoon, Sara made me move my stuff to the primary bedroom. I was still cautious, so I didn’t take everything with me. It would spare me work if things didn’t go well.

As with our first night together, Sara and I only slept in the same bed. We didn’t touch or cuddle, much less have passionate sex like I was hoping for.

I snuck out of bed and hit the gym early as usual. It spared us the awkwardness when we woke up beside each other and helped me wake up for the day. My sleep was still bad. I often woke because of nightmares, and if I didn’t wake because of my own, I woke because I wanted to check on Sara to see if her sleep was fitful. To my surprise, she hadn’t woken screaming yet.

I was doing muscle ups when Sara came in, already dressed for the day in jeans and a wool sweater. Her hair was up in a loose updo, and she wore no makeup, but she still looked gorgeous.

“Good morning,” she said with a small smile. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I did some pottery. I want to try the wheel you got me.”

I glanced at the potter’s wheel in one corner of the room, next to the window. I’d gotten rid of my row machine to make room for it. “Sure.”

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Later. Not during my workout.”

Sara nodded but left and returned a couple of minutes later with a coffee mug and a bucket of water. She gathered a bag of clay, then began to gather everything else she needed around herself. She turned the wheel on and slapped a piece of clay on the rotating disk before wetting her hands with water. She positioned herself on the small stool in front of the wheel and began to touch the clay. Soon, it transformed into a tower, then she pressed it down again and let it rise to an even higher creation that reminded me a bit of a cock. An image my brain really didn’t need, especially as I watched Sara stroke and rub the damn thing.

I turned my attention back to the muscle up bar, but it was hard to focus with Sara in a room. She looked even prettier as she concentrated on lovingly caressing that piece of mud.

Who would have thought I’d ever be jealous of clay?

Sara slanted me a look. Then turned back to the clay. She didn’t seem to have trouble focusing on her task. I grabbed my towel and rubbed my hair dry, then went to the kitchen to grab a coffee before returning to the gym room. Sara gave me a distracted smile when I sank down on my bench and drank my coffee while watching her work.

A delicate blush crept up her neck and cheeks. “Isn’t this boring for you?”

I shook my head. “It’s kind of hypnotic.”

She laughed. “I guess.” She slanted me another look, and this time, her gaze definitely lingered on my upper body, which was naked.

I wondered what she thought. “Do my tattoos still bother you?”

She tilted her head. “They never really bothered me. I never liked tattoos, but I like them on you. They’re part of you.”

“Good.” I had another appointment tomorrow to continue my back tattoo. It was difficult because of the burn scars. They weren’t too bad, but scarring always complicated tattoo art.

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