says nothing. He doesn’t close the door though. I listen to his footsteps as they disappear. I sigh with irritation as I push back my chair and stand. It’s the first time I’ve gotten up all day. I shut the door and quickly sit back down.
I TIPTOE INTO THE BEDROOM. I don’t want him to hear me. I don’t want to wake him up. I wish I didn’t have to be in here at all, but he intervenes more if I sleep in my “office.” I’m quiet as I walk to the other side of the bed, farthest away from the door. It’s where he likes for me to sleep. He’s always liked to sleep closest to the door. I used to think it was cute, part of his protective nature. I don’t see the point anymore, but I comply. I step out of my clothes, making a small pile on the floor; I don’t bother with pajamas. I was basically wearing PJs all day anyway. Grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt are my usual attire now. The duvet is cold, but I like the cold on my skin. I slide under the sheets gently, careful not to disturb him. “How's it coming along?” His deep voice startles me, disrupting the little bit of comfort I had. My body tenses. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. He stares blankly at the ceiling, not moving. His muscular shoulders and chiseled chest peek out from beneath the crisp sheets. “It’s almost ready,” I lie and he sighs, fully aware that I’m lying to him. It’s a sad truth, and an unfortunate necessity in our relationship. I lie, and he lets me. He rolls over and puts his hand on my waist. I stiffen at his touch, but he doesn’t stop. He moves closer to me, kissing my shoulder. His soft lips kiss my neck. I start to protest but his finger moves to my lips, halting my words.