Streaks of light streamed through the open balcony doors, the smell of earth in the air, the low humming of the lawn mower. I rolled over, the sheets warm and soft against my naked body. I ran a hand over the empty space beside me where my husband had lain. He had taken his time in the shower and I vaguely remembered waking up as he settled into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly, the comforter sliding across my hip. In my half sleepy mood, I wanted, waited and hoped that he would inch closer to my side, slide a hand across my waist and pull me against his chest.He didn't. Daniel was still and silent beside me until his breath measured and I turned over to find him sleeping like a log. His face was missing the mischief and his lips were not lined with his signature scowl. He slept like a child, his lips slightly parted and soft puffs of air escaping from his mouth. He looked so adorable, like he wasn't the same man who was so hostile towards me. I ran my fingers over the corner o

I did expect a very unpleasant afternoon with my mother-in-law. But what I didn't expect was to meet my husband there.Why was he here? Oh, I knew. The wedding photos had arrived and my mother-in-law wanted to go over them together as a family sans her other sons and husband. Maybe, the photos were the reason for that permanent scowl on his face.At least the lunch served on the occasion smelled delicious. Every so often I was tempted to quit the greens on my plate and have a full serving of grilled chicken. However, I maintained my trophy wife diet, stabbed a piece of broccoli and quietly lifted it to my mouth, very aware of my husband's eyes on me.Before I could understand anything that went in his mind he placed a more than generous size of chicken slice on my plate.I looked up from my plate in confusion and flashed a nervous laugh at my mother-in-law. Her eyes went hard on his son's sudden action. She was both sizing up the amount of carbs I was about to take in and my husband.

Boredom forces you to develop illogical ways to get through the days. It can force you to stalk people on social media and in this case I ended up searching for my husband. Daniel had disappeared to London for two weeks. I was informed by Nathan in the second week of his absence in the house. By then I was sure, my husband didn't like our last intimate session on the couch of our living room. I, however, couldn't stop thinking about it. I spent my lonely nights anticipating his warm body spooning me from behind or his head between my legs, giving me that sweet touch of pleasure again and again, only to wake up alone and feeling empty. I spent hours at the gym working on my trophy wife figure. I did makeup simply to attend unfriendly visits at the Rutherford Villa where my mother-in-law didn't miss the chance to remind me how I failed to be a perfect wife for his son. When I wasn't forced through my rich lifestyle, I napped and read. Some nights I sat in my living room with the fro

The anticipation was killing me, even more when my husband sat on the seat across from me, his eyes fixed on me and posture representing a predator at hunt. I was almost ready to jump out of the limo just to avoid that intense burn he set inside me with his mere eyes.Maybe, it was the longing I felt for his touch or maybe I had become addicted to his cold, heartless ways. Either way, I wanted to feel his touch again. I didn't realise the intensity of my need for him until he showed up to prove his dominance over me.Who knew I only needed to get a man touch me to draw my husband out of his hiding lair? Now, I knew one of his weaknesses.He didn't touch me even once until we reached our villa. The second the limo stopped, he stepped outside then threw me on his shoulder like before. I was still sheathing my teeth and wrestling against his strength due to the amount of anger I felt for being neglected for three weeks straight. For a newly wed couple, it was like a curse."Put me down r

I woke up to an empty bed for the nth time. Any hope that my husband spent the night in our bed shattered painfully. Who was I kidding? He probably treated all his whores the same way he treated his wife. However, I didn't want to think how many women had the privilege of having my husband's tongue inside them. I shook off the ugly images that had started to surface and locked my mind into one in particular, the one where he pleasured me on his knees in the shower and then on our bed. And just like that sweet ache started developing in my belly. On top of that I had a raging hangover. Throwing the sheets away I went into the bathroom. I took a long shower, scrubbed and scrubbed some more but nothing worked. His touches were too deep to bodily wash them off. A silent fear crept in as the possibility of his presence inside my heart and soul gripped me. I couldn't let it happen. Not when I was sure, he would never reciprocate my feelings. Hell, I was still more interested in the financ