Chapter 118

ASHER

^THREE WEEKS LATER^

The first two weeks were filled with sexual tension and passionate lovemaking. But the third week? It’s been a punch in the gut. The honeymoon phase seems to be over, and I’m disappointed it didn’t last longer.

I can’t help but think that Maddy starting her new role downstairs might be the cause, but she insists everything is fine. Maybe I’m the issue.

The absence of sex this week has left me feeling…raw. She hasn’t wanted me to touch her at all.

She recoils when I brush against her, claims she’s too tired when I try to initiate anything. And that’s not the only excuse she’s been using.

The list is long and repetitive, but it always starts the same way. Not tonight, she says.

Then come the reasons. My back hurts. I’m tired. I’m not in the mood. You’re crowding me. I have cramps… I’m hungry.

The list is endless, and I’m increasingly frustrated with it. I never thought we’d be in this place so soon, and I’m at a loss for what to do next.

And believe me, taking care of things myself in the shower isn’t the solution. Well, not that I’m allowed to do that either. She has a problem with that too.

Just this morning, she caught me in the act, and a loud argument ensued.

“Am I not good enough for you?” she asked, as I continued to stroke myself under the hot water.

“Huh?” I grunted, looking up from my task to her. I had hoped she was coming in to join me, maybe to end this six-day celibacy streak she’d chosen, but that wasn’t the case.

“Are you joining me?” I asked.

“No…no, I’m not, Asher. I can’t believe you,” she yelled.

Her reaction surprised me. I stepped out of the warm water to make sure she was okay. But before I could ask what was wrong, her hand flew out, slapping me across the face.

It wasn’t a hard slap; it barely stung, but I was shocked that she had done it at all. I touched the spot on my cheek that felt warmer than the rest of my body.

There’s nothing wrong with a little self-love, so what was her issue?

“What was that for?” I asked.

“You’re basically telling me I’m not enough. Am I so boring that you need to find release elsewhere?” she whimpered, clearly upset.

“What? No, of course not. But give a guy a break; it’s been six days.”

“Six days? That’s all it takes for your mind to wander?” she snapped.

I was taken aback. Shocked that I made her feel that way, shocked that a simple act had turned our bliss into something I loathed.

But I’m not one to back down. So, the argument consumed two hours of our time until I had to leave.

I had to, or I might have taken her right there just to release the pent-up desire coursing through me. But I don’t want to be that kind of man.

And now, here I am in my father’s office, watching him as he furiously types away on his laptop. Zach smirks, his face mirroring mine, amused by whatever he’s just written.

I sigh, feeling a pang of envy that everyone else seems happy.

“What is it, Asher?” he asks after my third sigh.

“Who says it’s anything?” I retort.

“It’s something; otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Do me a favor and spit it out. I want to go home early, and you’re distracting me from my work.”

“Didn’t look like you were doing much work…” I point out.

“Spit it out, son.”

I consider dragging it out, making him squirm a bit longer, but ultimately I decide to cut the crap and spill it.

“Maddy’s decided to become celibate, making every excuse under the sun as to why we can’t be intimate, and now we’ve been arguing for over four hours.”

He chuckles, throwing his head back as his laughter fills the room. He even clutches his stomach as if the laughter is painful.

“Celibate, Asher?” He smirks. “She’s been home for three weeks. She was in the clinic longer than that.”

“Since she came back, we’ve been intimate every day, except for the past six, Dad. Isn’t this supposed to be our honeymoon phase or something?” I ask.

“Good Lord, no wonder you’ve never had a steady girlfriend,” he teases. His smirk lingers until I glare at him, prompting him to straighten up and wipe that smug expression off his face.

“Listen, Asher. Women are…damn, how do I explain this?” He looks at me, but I have no answer, so he continues.

“They’re puzzles. You won’t be able to figure her out, so don’t even try. Just understand that sometimes, they get moody and might push you away. It could be hormones, hunger, cravings, or cramps. Anything can be a reason. Find something that makes her happy and stock up on it, then just wait it out.”

“But I can’t, Dad. I need…you know, relief?” I admit.

“Well, take care of it yourself then, son. I’m sure you’re familiar with your own hand,” he suggests, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“But that’s the problem, Dad. I did that this morning, and she walked in on me. She even slapped me because apparently, that’s not allowed,” I confess.

“She did what?” he asks, as if he’s not really paying attention.

“She slapped me for taking care of myself,” I repeat, making sure he doesn’t miss it this time.

You’d think this situation couldn’t get any more awkward.

“That’s not okay, Asher. She should never lay a hand on you,” he says, his face darkening as he slams his laptop shut.

Now he’s angry?

“It’s not a big deal, Dad,” I say, trying to brush it off. “I just want to know how to fix this frustration.”

“Asher,” he starts.

“Just let it go, Dad. It’s fine,” I insist.

He purses his lips, muttering, “It’s not,” before sighing again.

“Maddy’s been through a lot, Asher. Her mind isn’t as typical as—”

“She’s normal, Dad,” I interrupt.

“Of course, she is. Maybe your mother might have some advice for you,” he suggests.

“I can’t go to Mom with this, Dad. There has to be a line somewhere, and this is it. I came to you,” I say.

“Just be careful, Asher. She’s been through a lot, and there might be lingering effects from her past abuse. Violence is not normal or acceptable. Don’t let her think it’s okay to treat you that way because once it starts, it won’t stop,” he warns.

“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Dad,” I argue.

“What’s her favorite candy?” he asks.

“I don’t know, Dad,” I admit.

“Favorite movie?”

“I don’t know that either,” I confess.

“What do you know about her?”

“Not much, Dad,” I admit.

“Well then, I guess you need to step back and take some time to learn about each other,” he advises.

“That’s your advice?” I ask.

“Yes, and set boundaries, Asher. I don’t want to hear about her laying a hand on you like that again,” he adds.

“Dad, come on,” I protest.

“I’m serious, Asher.”