That melts my amusement real fast. “What’s that now?”
“Not for sex,” he says, seeing my panic. “You just fucked someone else today, and… I’m not even sure you’ve showered. No offense. But it’s late, I’m tired, and I’m at my girlfriend’s house; I’m staying.”
“Um…”
Ignoring my hesitation, he says, “I’ll leave in the morning, but I’m not going to bring you a muffin. Maybe Monday your muffin privileges will return, but there has to be some punishment for the cheating.”
“Huh. Two days without muffins. That seems lenient.”
“If that’s not manly enough for you, you can lie naked on your bed and I’ll whip your ass with my belt,” he offers.
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Henry cracks a smile and takes his tie off. “I think we’re gonna be okay.”
Chapter Eleven
This is weird.
I can’t fall asleep knowing Henry is in bed with me. I cannot believe Henry is in bed with me. Of all the things I thought might get him here, “I fucked someone else” was not on that list.
It’s been a nice night, don’t get me wrong. Henry stopped giving as many fucks upon hearing that his unattainable unicorn took someone else’s horn, and he did get bossier. Telling me he was sleeping at my house tonight is the bossiest thing he has ever done, but as I stare at him in the darkness of my bedroom, his presence feels so unnatural, I wonder if I will ever adjust to it.
Probably. I don’t make a habit of sleeping in beds with men, but millions upon millions of women manage it, right? Surely they like it.
Why are you here?
I can’t stop thinking it. I don’t understand why Henry even wants to forgive me. Does he just not want to be alone? Being with me is almost like being alone, so that can’t be it. I can’t imagine he wants me that badly. I’m far from ugly, but I’m not hot enough to warrant this level of forgiveness, especially when you take into account my emotional unavailability.
I poke him. He doesn’t wake up, so I poke him again.
He grumbles, opening his eyes and frowning at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you fucked other women since we got together?”
Sighing, he covers his eyes with one of his hands. “Really? You woke me up to ask me that?”
“Have you?”
“In the last month? No. In the past year? Of course. I’m not a monk.”
“Why didn’t you just date them? Why keep coming back to me?”
“Because I like difficult, insane women who won’t let me sleep,” he states, turning over and punching his pillow. “Go to sleep, Nicole.”
“Do you think you might be self-loathing?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbow. “Maybe you don’t think you deserve better than me.”
“Listen to the way you just asked that question, Nicole,” he says, without rolling over. “You act like my liking and respecting you is a failing. You’re the one who has a touch of self-loathing, not me. You think there’s something wrong with me for liking you, and there isn’t. For someone so fucking smart, you certainly lack self-awareness.”
I glare at him, not that he can see me. “Rude.”
“You should start talking to someone. A counselor. I know a good one; I can get you her phone number.”
“I do not need counseling,” I tell him.
“Okay. Go to sleep,” he says again.
He doesn’t get it at all. I don’t think he’s stupid for liking me because I think I suck, I’m just aware of how much more I have to offer. I remember clearly the way I loved Derek, especially at the deepest level. It went beyond reason, and I deserved better. That’s the problem with me. When I let myself love, I can’t stop. Most people find it easy to fall in love, but I don’t. Falling out of love isn’t just hard, it’s impossible. I should have fallen out of love with Derek a million times over, but I didn’t, no matter the motivation. I can’t afford to turn on the love faucet knowing that I can’t turn it back off if I need to.