"The bathroom is through there. Don't take too long."
I didn't walk, I fled, shutting the bathroom door behind me. The sound of the lock was the most comforting sound I had ever heard. The bathroom was as imposing as the bedroom. My reflection in the large mirror was like a ghost, my eyes wide filled with terror.
With trembling hands, I fumbled with the clasp of the diamond necklace, tossing it onto the counter. I opened my gown, letting it pool on the floor like a shed skin, and wore the silk nightgown.
I couldn't stay in here forever. Taking a long breath, I unlocked the door and stepped out.
The room was transformed. The main lights were off, leaving the room illuminated only by the moon glowing through the windows and the glow from his tablet. Asher was already in the bed, the sheets were pulled up to his waist. His chest was bare, revealing his torso.
He didn't look up from his tablet.
"The left side is yours." He spoke, as if assigning me a desk in an office.
My mind was telling me to run to the guest suite, but I couldn't. With legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, I moved toward the bed. I slipped between the cold sheets on the left side, keeping as close to the edge as possible. The distance between us was only a few feet, but it felt like miles. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, aware of his every breath.
Then the mattress dipped a bit with his weight as he shifted and then, there was only silence.
It was the most intimate and most terrifying moment of our entire marriage. The scent of his sandalwood cologne, now mingled with the warmth of his skin, wrapped around me.
Laying there on the same bed, I remembered a memory from our sixth month of marriage.
My body was weak. I was suffering from flu from two days. I needed water. The journey from the bed to the door was a marathon. I was walking slowly to the kitchen when the strength from my legs vanished, and I fell down on the cold floor. I wasn't even able to even lift my head.
I didn't know how long I'd been there when the front door opened. I smelled the scent of Asher's cologne. I opened my eyes. He was standing near me. His face, as always, was unreadable
He didn't ask, "What happened?" or "Are you okay?"
He simply knelt. His one hand slid under my knee, and other one behind my shoulders. He lifted me, and carried me back to my bed and laid me down. The action was devoid of any tenderness. He didn't brush the hair from my forehead or adjust the pillow. He immediately called someone while his back was facing towards me.
"Dr. Zhao. It's Asher Wang. My wife has collapsed. A severe flu, I believe. I need you to come to the penthouse immediately."
He listened for a moment, his eyes scanning the room, noticing the water glass on the floor
"Fine. Thank you."
He hung up. He turned, and looked at me.
"The doctor will be here in twenty minutes." He said.
And then, without another word, he turned and left. The door closed behind him leaving me alone with flu in my room.
After twenty minutes, Dr. Zhao came, he was professional, and prescribed me medicines.
But Asher never came. Not that night, not the next day, not during the long week of my recovery.
I blinked, the memory faded. I was back in the present, lying on the cold bed next to him. I stared into the darkness toward his side of the bed, wondering if he would turn.
Minutes stretched into an eternity. I counted the beats of my pulse, and then he spoke. He had rolled onto his side. I could feel the heat of his body.
"Stop trembling." He said. "I told you. I don't take what isn't offered."
It was meant to be a reassurance, but from him, it felt like a threat. His next words were a dismissal that felt like a sentence.
"Go to sleep, Rysa."