Chapter 6 THAT IS

Leah

"Do you need help changing?" Aiden teased, his eyes on my chest.

Fucking pervert.

My fingers tightened around the shopping bag. "No. Get out."

He leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "But I also need to change. You don't want me catching a cold, do you?"

"Then get another room."

"The bathroom will do," he said, brushing past me.

He took off his coat and dropped it carelessly onto the floor, and then his fingers moved to his shirt buttons. "The faster you change, the faster I get out of your hair. And don't even think about running. My men are right outside the door."

I chewed the inside of my cheek as he disappeared into the bathroom.

After standing for what felt like hours, I reluctantly pulled out the yellow sundress from the bag, eyeing it. I glanced at the bathroom door for the hundredth time to make sure he wasn't coming out before quickly slipping out of my wet dress.

The door suddenly creaked open, causing my heart to jump into my throat.

"What is wrong with you?" I almost screamed, turning quickly and holding the dress to my chest.

"My bad. Didn't think you would still be dressing," he said, not looking the least bit sorry.

"Well, I'm. Get out."

He didn't. Instead, he stood there watching me like a fucking prey.

He stepped closer, the air shifting with him.

"Don't..." I warned, taking a small step back.

My heart raced wildly, my fingers digging into the dress. Just when I thought he was about to touch me, he crouched down to pick something up. He lifted the shopping bag in his hand with a smirk. "I forgot to take my clothes."

"You seemed to be expecting something else, doll."

"Fuck you," I breathed.

His gaze moved past me, and his lips curved. "You know there's a mirror behind you, right?"

Heat rushed to my face. I turned slightly, realising he could see my naked back.

Fuck. Fuck!

I looked anywhere but him wishing the ground would just open and swallow me.

Shouldn't he have pretended he didn't see it?

My eyes caught the growing bulge under his towel, and my breath hitched.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my shoulder.

"Stop," I whispered.

"Stop what?"

"Whatever you're doing."

"You don't like it?"

"Yes," I exhaled sharply.

His thumb moved over my lips slowly before lifting my face. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Liar."

"I don't."

For a second, something dark flashed in his eyes, and then he stepped back.

"Next time then," he said, almost to himself, before turning away.

"This should be the last time we meet," I said.

He paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk. "We both know that would be difficult, doll."

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I ran the sponge over my shoulder and then down the length of my arm, my mind wandering to his hands. They were large and strong and could easily cover my breasts. I shivered, goosebumps spreading across my skin as the thought of his rough hands gliding slowly over my skin invaded my thoughts. I sighed, opening my eyes to the ceiling.

"I am fucked."

I leaned forward scrubbing my body with more force, reminding myself that I was supposed to be cleansing myself of his touch, not fantasising about how his hands would feel on my body.

The phone on the dresser rang just as I was about to climb the bed. "Liam," I called out but there was no answer. I checked the closet and he wasn't there.

The phone kept ringing. "Where is he?" I picked it up just as it stopped ringing and vibrated in my hand with a message. I was about to glance at the screen when the phone was suddenly snatched from my hand harshly.

"What the fuck are you doing snooping around my phone?" He snapped.

"I wasn't stopping around," I gritted, angry at his accusations.

He hissed, scrolling through his phone. "Don't fucking touch my phone again," he warned through clenched teeth.

"Why are you acting like it's such a big deal? Are you hiding something?"

He turned to me, glaring daggers. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing," I said, realising that things would escalate if I continued arguing with him.

I turned away from him, heading toward the bed when I heard him say, "Annoying bitch."

I turned around, my chest tightening at his words. "Why would you call me that just because I touched your phone?" I almost yelled, my hands trembling as tears welled in my eyes.

Why are you being mean to me?

His phone rang again, and he ignored me, leaving the room as he answered the call.

I lay in bed waiting for him. He didn't come back for what felt like hours.

The door creaked open, my heart racing as I heard him move around the room. I lay still as he climbed in beside me. Seconds went by, and I couldn't muster up the courage to say a word, afraid he would get angry like he always does. I turned on my side, facing his back. He was right beside me on the bed, but it felt like he was miles away.

Ever since the nightdress issue, he had been distant. He was always looking for a way to turn every conversation we had into a fight.

I bit my lip, hesitating before scooting closer, my heart pounding as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. He tensed immediately at my touch, but he didn't pull away. I scooted closer, feeling his warmth against my body as I rested my head against his back, and I whispered, "I'm sorry."

I didn't know what I was apologising for, but I was ready to apologise for anything if it meant closing the growing distance between us. I didn't care about the sex. We shouldn't be fighting because of it in the first place. I didn't die when he stopped touching me and still won't. But his coldness is something I couldn't live with. I wanted the man I loved before marriage back.

"I am trying to sleep, Leah," he murmured, and I held him tighter. "If you don't stop, I will leave the bed for you."

My heart shattered as my voice trembled, pleading, "Please..." I blinked back tears, but they fell anyway. He removed my arms from around him with a sharp hiss, standing up from the bed, before I could stop him. I knelt on the bed, tears streaming freely down my cheeks, watching as he grabbed the doorknob. The words I usually kept as thoughts spilt out before I could stop them. "Are you seeing someone else?"

He paused, his back still turned to me, and for an agonising moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of my sobs. "Please talk to me, Liam. I have thought hard and long on what the problem is, and I can't seem to think of anything but that," I cried fisting my nightdress. "Or do you not love me anymore?"

I couldn't tell which was more painful, the thought of him seeing someone else or the possibility that he no longer loved me. But did I have the right to question him, especially when I had let another man kiss me twice? Or the fact that I secretly craved the touch of a stranger who wasn't my husband?