Page 58 of Checks & Bonds

When we reached the kitchen, Freya went straight to the pantry and pulled out a first aid kit.

"How'd you find this?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

"When you have nothing to do, you explore," she replied without looking up.

"No." I shook my head. "Someone else would have gone shopping or been on social media."

"Is that what you want from me?" She turned to face me, eyes sharp, challenging.

I watched her take the kit to the island and sit on a stool. Her expression softened as she opened the kit and looked up at me with an expectant gaze.

"Can I have your hand?" she asked, voice steady.

I handed her my hands, letting them rest in her small, steady grip. My knuckles were raw and bloody from the earlier fight, theskin torn and bruised. Freya's touch was gentle, yet there was an unspoken tension between us.

"I don't understand why you did that," she muttered, beginning to clean the wounds.

The sting of the Neosporin hit my knuckles, and I clenched my teeth, glaring at her. She smirked, a hint of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. She'd done it on purpose.

"You're my wife," I said through gritted teeth. "Why can't you understand that?"

"Because it doesn't make sense," she replied, dabbing at the cuts with a cotton swab. "You claimed me, sure, but we've been engaged our whole lives. Why the change?"

"Who said anything about changing?" I watched her work, her movements methodical and precise.

"Oh, come on, Henry," she scoffed. "We've barely spoken until... until now."

I pressed my lips together, suppressing a sigh. "There was no need," I said finally. "But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

"And what's that?" Freya asked, looking up at me with those piercing eyes.

"You're mine."

"So... a possession?" She sneered.

"A wife," I corrected her.

"Does that mean I get to possess you?" she asked, her voice sharp as she finished wrapping my fingers.

"It doesn't work like that." I tried to keep my tone steady, but the tension crackled between us.

"Why not?" She focused on the bandage, her fingers deftly tying it off. "I know you got Dan to break up with me. Could I have done the same thing to Rebecca? To whoever you were sleeping with?"

"Dan isn't allowed to touch what's mine," I growled, my jaw tightening.

"Well, neither does Rebecca," she shot back, fire lighting her eyes. The heat of her fury matched my own.

I looked away, feeling a stir in my gut that I didn't want to acknowledge.

"Why would you want to possess me?" I muttered, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. "I thought you hated me."

"I do." She held my gaze steady. "But that doesn't mean you don't belong to me."

She finished bandaging my fingers and leaned back, inspecting her work as if it mattered more than our words.

"Do you have any practice or game or anything?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," I replied. "Morning skate."

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