Chapter 3: The Morning After and Misunderstandings

He pulled my hand to his forehead.

He moved even closer.

“My eyes hurt too.”

He closed his eyes and leaned right toward my lips.

I swallowed. Tried to clear my scattered thoughts. Seriously, Savannah, get it together.

Every time Ethan pretended to be drunk, he’d do this same routine.

First his head hurt and wanted a rub, then his eyes hurt and wanted a kiss, then his mouth hurt and wanted another kiss.

It would go on for half the night.

By the next day, my lips would be swollen.

But always, at the final moment, Ethan would pull the comforter over his head and go to sleep. Like clockwork.

It drove me crazy.

I didn’t want to be led around by him anymore. Enough was enough.

I leaned my head back, determined to take back the initiative. Let’s see how he handles that.

Ethan opened his misty eyes, looking totally lost, and pointed at his lips.

“It hurts here too.”

He pointed at his collarbone.

“And here.”

Then pointed at that V-shaped line above his hips.

“Here.”

His finger moved all the way down.

Ethan’s gaze grew deeper, his breath on me getting hotter and hotter.

Until—

The comforter was lifted all the way up.

He saw it all—the thin fabric, my pale skin.

I turned over, lifted a corner of my lace nightgown, hooked his thumb, and pressed it to the inside of my thigh. My heart pounded.

The callus on his fingertip made me curl up involuntarily. I looked up at him, giving my best pitiful face, my tone all sweet and innocent.

“Honey, it wants to be soothed here too.”

“Kiss it, okay?”

[Hold up, didn’t the lights just go out three minutes ago?]

[I wanted the full show, not a three-minute highlight reel!]

[Romance novel hero, three minutes? C’mon, author, we need to talk!]

[Don’t call him out! It’s his first time, everyone’s nervous! My boyfriend was even faster—he was done before I knew it!]

[Forget first time or not, look at Savannah—she looks like she’s about to die.]

I closed my eyes in despair. This was not how I pictured my night going.

If it weren’t for listening to their nonsense, and Ethan really looking like he had the goods—well, I wouldn’t have suffered so much today.

The first time I took the initiative, thinking my dying marriage would be revived.

But just as it started to hurt, before it could feel good, it was suddenly over! Great. Just great.

Thinking about these three years, if it weren’t for my lust for his looks, why would I have stayed with such an old fossil for so long? Honestly, I could’ve done better.

And now I find out he obviously likes me, but always finds excuses to get close to me. What kind of twisted logic is that?

What is this?

An avoidant lover that everyone online wants to smack?

Why should I, a rich heiress, put up with this?

The more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt.

Tears fell without me realizing. I didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

The man on top of me froze, the drunkenness in his eyes replaced by panic. He reached out to wipe my tears.

His thumb brushed my cheek, clumsy and gentle, but I pulled away, not ready to let him off the hook so easily. The ache in my chest felt sharp, raw, and too familiar.

I turned my head away and spoke first.

“Take a look at the divorce papers in the drawer when you have time.” I paused, letting it land. “I want a divorce.”

His hand on my face froze.

He didn’t move for a long time.

He just stayed on top of me. Heavy. Stubborn. Like always. I almost rolled my eyes.

I was furious.