Page 211 of The Reason I Married Him
I check the time, and I know Echo is awake, so I text her.
Aubree:I need advice.
I stare down at my phone, and when I see the dots indicating she’s texting back, I thank the high heavens.
Echo:Uh-oh, what happened last night?
Aubree:How do you know something happened last night?
Echo:Really? You’re texting me at eight in the morning after the first night with your husband. Something happened.
Aubree:You’re right. Something did happen. I had sex with Wyatt.
Echo:Are we happy about that?
Aubree:I was. Really happy actually. And he seemed enthusiastic about it as well, but once it was done, it was like he reverted to how we were before we had sex. He held me last night, but there was nothing past that, and I woke up alonethis morning. I don’t know, I might be overthinking this, but something feels off. Do you think I freaked him out?
Echo:Who initiated sex?
Aubree:I did, but he was glad to participate. Very glad.
Echo:Okay, then maybe he’s just giving you some space, you know? Like maybe he wants you to fully understand what happened between you two.
Aubree:I know what happened, Echo. Everything changed for me.
Echo:Then maybe you need to tell him that. Maybe you need to have that conversation.
Aubree:And if he doesn’t feel the same way?
Echo:Then at least you know. But you can’t be doing this, not for a whole year. It’s better to set the expectations now. Set the boundaries.
Aubree:You’re right. I don’t think I could live with this on-and-off type sexual tension between us.
Echo:I know you can’t. Now go talk to him.
Aubree:Okay. Thanks.
Echo:Any time.
I set my phone down, and then, on a deep breath, I stand from the bunk and head down the creaky stairs of the cabin. When I reach the bottom, I glance out the back deck and marvel at the towering trees that seem to expand into the sky. Since the cabin is on a slope, it almost feels like we’re in a tree house. I scan the deck but don’t see Wyatt, so I move around toward the living space and spot him in the kitchen with his back toward me, hovering over the coffee maker.
I nervously clasp my hands together and say, “Good morning.”
He turns to face me with a cup of coffee in his hands. His eyes immediately fall to my bare legs and then scan up my shirt to my face. “Morning,” he says with a light smirk.
Unsure of how to respond and open the conversation, I tiptoe on my feet and say, “The floor is cold.”
“Did you bring slippers with you?” I shake my head.Because who packs slippers on their honeymoon?“We can grab some when we go into town later.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling so incredibly awkward.
He sips his coffee, his eyes on me. “Something wrong?”
“Yes,” I say before I can stop myself.
That makes his brows peak with interest. He sets his coffee down and leans back against the counter. “What’s going on, Aubree?”
Here it goes.
