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Chapter 14: There Was Only One Thought on Her Mind

In the room, Abigail rolled out of bed as soon as Dahlia left. Sean pushed her back down before she could escape. She shoved him away, creating some distance. “She’s gone. There’s no need to act now,” she said.

He gazed at her, his voice hoarse. “Didn’t you want this when you grabbed me earlier?”

Confused and speechless, Abigail shrieked, “I was reminding you not to let Dahlia get to my side of the bed! Are you some kind of sex addict or something? Why do you always interpret everything that way?!”

He ignored her, guiding her hand downward until it touched his genitals.

At this rate, she felt an overwhelming urge to amputate her hand. It would be difficult, but she’d manage. She struggled to withdraw her hand, her face flushed crimson. “What are you doing?!”

He enunciated each word slowly. “Remind me again, did you have to grab my genitals earlier?”

Her earlier grab had been clumsy and panicked; it hurt him so much he suspected she'd wanted to end his life.

Abigail realized his implication. Her face burned, but she retorted, “Fine. Let me go. I need to wash my hands.”

Sean’s eyes darkened. “You’re disgusted by something you just touched?”

She replied earnestly, “What I’m avoiding isn’t necessarily an object…”

…but a person? Does she despise me that much? Sean’s good mood vanished. The haze in his eyes cleared. After a few seconds, he got out of bed. “You can have the bed.”

He left the room. Abigail didn’t care; she was exhausted but unable to sleep. She tossed and turned, feeling increasingly warm and uncomfortable. Why was it so hot and humid, even though it was only March?

She undid two buttons on her nightgown, but it was still too hot. She kept thinking about Sean’s hand holding the spoon while he fed her pudding earlier. His arms were strong. Why was she thinking about him now? Annoyed with herself, she kicked off the blanket.

As sleep finally came, someone opened the door. Sean raised an eyebrow at the sight of her in bed. In the dim light, the moonlight illuminated her slim waist—a place he loved to touch intimately.

A sly glint appeared in Sean’s eyes. He’d said she could have the bed, but not that he had to sleep on the couch. He slipped under the covers. Just as he was about to close his eyes, she caressed his chest, her fingers slipping between his buttons and sliding downward. She wrapped her legs around him. When she brushed against him, his breathing grew heavy, but his voice remained cold. “You didn’t want it earlier, so why now?”

Tormented by the heat, Abigail ignored his sarcasm, even letting out a moan to tempt him. He couldn't restrain himself any longer. He pressed her back onto the bed. Her sounds were lost in his kisses, his tongue forcing its way past her teeth.

There was only one thought in her mind: The audacity! I’m unwell, and he insinuates I’m the wanton one! He's the one who wants to sleep with me! This thought fueled her actions.

At that moment, Sean’s phone rang. They ignored it at first, but the caller persisted. Sean answered. A woman’s crying voice came through the phone. Without hesitation, he pulled away from Abigail, saying, “Wait for me. I’ll be there right away.”

He left without a backward glance. Abigail lay alone, her body burning with passion, her heart icy.

She felt tortured by the conflict between her mind and body. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at her near-naked body. She'd heard that an arrow, once on the string, must be released. What kind of feelings did Sean have for Joan that allowed him to stop?

She lay motionless, regaining her composure. It was nothing like their wedding night, where she'd found release. She knew she was a fool, but not stupid enough to miss that something was wrong with the pudding Dahlia had brought.

And the wedding night… was that Dahlia's doing, too? She felt disappointed and heartbroken.

Despite her trembling legs, she forced herself to the bathroom, filling the tub with cold water and adding chilled drinks and alcohol. She gritted her teeth and stepped in.