We made it back without a single goddamn word passing between us.
I tried, Lord, I did, but it was a losing battle.
When she headed into the bedroom and returned a couple minutes later in gym clothes, I decided that leaving her to work out her frustrations might be the wisest option.
Tempted to push things along, I almost changed into workout gear myself, but something told me that giving her some room to breathe was the smartest choice.
I headed to bed, well aware that tomorrow was going to be a long one though, technically, it was a ‘rest’ day.
So I tried to relax, but I didn't sleep until she showered in our bathroom and got into bed beside me.
For the first time in our marriage, her ass didn't rub up against me. She didn't come anywhere near me.
Even when she had her period, she was all over me because Savannah didn't see why I shouldn't have to deal with a little period blood if she was horny.
It was then, with the chasm on the mattress separating us, that I realized I might have done the unthinkable.
Five years of ghosting her hadn't done it, butthiscould...
Had her fangirl obsession with me died?
Had I fucked this up like I'd fucked up everything in my life before her?
And Christ, that only included these past ten months because I'd fucked things up before then too.
My mind raced with hideous thoughts that had the sickness that was addiction rearing its ugly head.
I passed out around dawn, not realizing that she didn't sleep in all that time either.
When I eventually did fall asleep, the cravings shredding my soul apart, I didn’t even register when she climbed out of bed and left me...