“Was Elsa here this morning? I thought she was only going to come in tomorrow.”
“She is. Why?” Tiernan retorts, still engrossed in his work.
“I just assumed she came in today since the kitchen is spotless.”
“I can put dishes into the dishwasher, acushla. It doesn’t make me any less of a man to tidy up after myself and my wife.”
“No. I guess not.”
I bite the corner of my lip, filling my coffee mug, when a small white bag on the kitchen counter grabs my attention.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking a peek inside.
“I asked Darren to go to the pharmacy and pick you up some things. I wasn’t sure what you needed, so I told him to buy you some candy and chocolate, those artsy magazines you leave lying around the house, and some other things Iris used to bug me to get when she was on her period. I’m not sure any of it will help, but hopefully the meds will ease up some of the pain.”
Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?
The words are right at the tip of my tongue, but I don’t dare speak them out loud.
I walk over to the couch and take a seat, wrapping myself under a blanket, with my coffee mug in one hand and a magazine in the other. After I’ve drank my fill and read all the articles that interest me most, I’m a little unsure of what to do next. It’s not like Tiernan and I have ever lived together. I mean, we have lived in the same apartment for the past two months, but that’s still a far stretch from living as man and wife. Aside from me blackmailing him into having dinner with me every night, our interaction under this roof has been scarce and far between.
“You can turn the T.V. on if you want,” he says as if reading my thoughts.
“Are you sure?” I ask, eyeing his laptop.
“A little noise won’t disturb me from doing my job.” He chuckles under his breath.
“Okay.”
I turn on the T.V. and scour it for something to watch. Since I’m not in the best of moods, I pick a stand-up comedy, hoping some light humor will shift my disposition. As it goes on, Tiernan begins to laugh at a certain joke, closing his laptop and settling into the couch. I place my now empty mug on the coffee table and lean back into the cushion. I stay like that for a minute or so, before Tiernan’s arm reaches over my shoulders and tugs me into his side.
He’s still laughing away at the jokes being told, but his grip on me only tightens until I’m fully relaxed at his side. I take advantage, looking at him when his attention is diverted to the T.V. screen.
“You wore blue,” I state, staring at his jeans and navy long sleeve.
“Aye. It’s not the midnight blue you wanted, but it’s all I could have come up with on such short notice.”
I’m not sure why Tiernan indulging me by wearing a different color than his usual black has my heart pitter-pattering in my chest, but it does. I snuggle in closer to him, nestling my head on his shoulder, praying to Virgen de Guadalupe that this isn’t some mean trick he’s pulling on me. That this man who is being so thoughtful and kind lingers on, and that the man who only takes pleasure in seeing me crawl on my knees for him disappears once and for all.
And as if she heard my prayers, for the rest of the week, Tiernan works from home, taking long intervals just to be with me. It’s as close to happiness as I’ve ever been with him since he put a ring on my finger. The only thing that dims its shine is the realization that I might be falling in love with him.
Or worse.
That I already have.
“Pizza’s here,” Tiernan shouts from the elevator, carrying a large box of sizzling pepperoni goodness in his hands.
“Oh, good. I’m starving.” I jump off of the couch to help him bring our dinner in.
“It’s hot, acushla,” he warns when I try to take the box out of his hands. “Go and grab us some napkins and a couple of beers, and I’ll set this up in the living room,” he says before placing a chaste kiss to my cheek.
I don’t even find it odd anymore that Tiernan has been so affectionate with me lately. For the past week or so, we’ve spent most of our time together. He’s even slept in my room, holding me in his arms throughout the night. He hasn’t tried to seduce me in any way, for which I was grateful in the beginning. Now I’m just frustrated.
I want him to kiss me.
Say all those naughty words that set my skin on fire.
To take me like a man who needs to own every part of his wife would.
I just need him.
And that need both irritates me and consumes me.