28. Inconvenient Marriage #2
There are mornings when she’s relieved to find me in bed with her.
There are others where I come to with a start, noticing that she’s missing from the room.
I inevitably find her on the balcony, either contemplating the woods or halfway over the railing.
I always pull her back, holding her close in my arms, but she doesn’t always go willingly.
No, she fights, and when she does, I know I’ve lost my sweetheart if only for the moment.
She comes back. Haven… I won’t let her leave me for long.
Still, when the nightmares become indistinguishable from her days, I have to do what I can to help her.
If that means moving her to the basement so that she’s not a danger to herself?
I will. If I have to make the executive decision to sedate her? I’ll do that, too.
This past week has been… better. She’s slept through the night for five days now, and each morning when she wakes up, she’s relieved to find me there.
Yesterday, she was so glad to discover she’s Haven Heyward, not Haven Smith, she woke me up with my dick in her mouth, scratching needily at the ‘H’ she carved into my groin.
It’s the first time since the wedding that she initiated sex with me. I was so desperate for her, I exploded within seconds of being conscious. She teased me, reminding me that I could’ve fucked her any of the times she was out due to the sedative.
I needed the reminder; the reminder and the renewed permission.
As much as I crave my wife, it didn’t seem right, using her body when she’s not doing well.
It made me feel like I was only with her for her pussy, not her, and I never want Haven to doubt that I love every fucking inch of her, inside and out.
Still, when her teasing smile fled, her grey eyes shadowed over, and she said, “Unless you’re not attracted to me anymore,” I made it a point to promise that, next time she goes under, I’ll have my wicked way with her.
Because that’s the kind of relationship we have. I have to swear to the woman that I locked in my basement, called her my wife, and slipped a wedding ring on her finger one morning to make it so that, the next time I sedate her, I’ll fuck her so that she doesn’t have to doubt that I still want her.
Haven was in such a good mood yesterday, I thought she was improving.
And then… yeah. She had another nightmare last night, but one where she didn’t sleep at all.
Then today came, and I don’t know what happened now, but about an hour ago, she walked into the kitchen where I was prepping dinner, shaking like a leaf.
She refused to speak when I pulled her into my arms, asking what was wrong.
Instead, she made a gesture with her hand—our secret symbol for the sedative—and clung to me until I agreed.
I’ve hidden them. It scared the shit out of me, watching Haven inject herself. If her mental health got bad enough, I was terrified she might get syringe happy, pumping herself so full of the stuff that she never wakes up again.
That’s why, tonight, she’s fast asleep in our bed because she wordlessly begged me to help put her there.
And me? I’m back in the kitchen, only I’m not cooking. I’m not alone, either.
Sitting across from me at the small table I keep in the kitchen is Sebastien. He’s nervously tapping the tabletop with his fingertips, causing the liquid in the sedative between us to jiggle slightly.
He looks like shit. Bas has always been a pretty boy.
Up close, you can see the imperfections he worked hard to achieve: his nose is slightly crooked after being broken twice, and there’s a divot taken out of his cheek that happened during a fight.
They don’t do shit to detract from his natural beauty, though the bags under his eyes and the hard set to his anxious jaw is doing the job right about now.
I warned him that Haven is sleeping, and because he’s my bro, he knows exactly why that is. I don’t keep secrets from my brothers. When Haven is struggling, they know not to bother me, so if Bas needs to chat? He’s got a reason, and I’m willing to hear him out.
The vial is one he returned to me. I wasn’t sure if he would need it for his Annaliese, but when he handed it back to me just now, he said that she didn’t need it. Luckily for them, she sleeps like the dead. No problems there.
So what has him showing up at my door unannounced like this?
Bas doesn’t need an invitation. He’s the only one of my friends that Haven tolerates, though I’m not sure she would agree given her current mental state. I know she’ll be okay with time; if not okay, then at least better. When she’s like this, though, she shuts everyone out… except me.
I’m all Haven has, and while that’s all I ever wanted, I wish it didn’t come with moments like these—
I lean in my seat, giving Bas a smile that I don’t quite mean. “So… how’s it going with you and the missus?”
Bas sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck me, Connor. Let me just tell you… Adrian had it so much better.”
I give him a disbelieving look. I don’t see how. Bas had his wife arrange to marry him. Adrian had to execute one of our old friends in the same church where Bas said ‘I do’ just to get Loni to marry him, and that was only the beginning of him trying to get her to love him.