Empire of Desire by Rina Kent

“What…what’s wrong?” I ask the nurse.

“It’s normal. He’ll be slipping in and out of consciousness a lot before he regains complete awareness. He’s just sleeping now.”

“You’ve slept for long enough, Dad. Sleeping Beauty really doesn’t suit you, so you have to wake up now.” I try to scold him but sound tearful instead.

He squeezes my hand again, but he doesn’t open his eyes. I remain by his side long after I finish moving him. It’s very early in the morning, and I should be sleeping, but I can’t. What if he wakes up when I’m asleep?

The door slides open and I think it’s the nurse, but Nate walks inside with a vanilla milkshake in hand.

He places it between my fingers. “You should go home and rest, but I assume you won’t move from his side now.”

I dig my nails into the cup. Why does he have to be so good at reading me but not know how painful his actions are?

He shouldn’t be this attuned to me if it means nothing.

He shouldn’t know things about me and bring me those things because they’re what keeps me at peace.

“The nurse said he opened his eyes and talked to you?” he asks.

I just take a slurp of my milkshake. Yes, the asshole bought it, but it’s not its fault and it should be consumed.

“Gwyneth.” There’s a warning in his tone because he’s a god, and gods don’t like being ignored.

They don’t like being defied.

Well, too bad for him because I’m in the mood for anarchy.

“Look at me.”

I don’t.

“Gwyneth, I said look at me.”

When I refuse again, he steps in front of me and grabs my chin with two fingers. They’re strong and powerful and so warm, it feels as if I’m being set on fire.

His size eats up the horizon as he stares down at me with disapproval. As if he has the right to disapprove right now.

I jerk my head away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

A muscle tics in his jaw and his brown eyes rage in color, darkening. “What did you just say?”

“I said, don’t touch me, Nate.”

“You’re my fucking wife. I will touch you whenever I want.”

“Not when you intend to keep this physical only.”

“You were fine with physical before. What changed?”

“Me. I changed, Nate, and I’m not going to let you hurt me every time I wait for you to kiss me and you don’t.”

“So that’s what this is all about? A fucking kiss?”

I jerk up and nearly spill the milkshake. “It’s not about the kiss, it’s about what comes with the kiss. The feelings you don’t want.”

“You didn’t want them either.”

“Are you serious? Do you really believe I don’t want feelings? Why the hell do you think I kissed you two years ago? I’ve had this burn for you since I was fifteen, Nate! Since you told me the emptiness isn’t my reality and I can’t fill it up but it’s okay to feel empty sometimes. I realize now that was because you understand what it means to be hollow. You were abandoned, too, you were left behind, too, and there’s a void that remains, like the one my mother left in me. I didn’t know that before, that you were empty, but I understood it deep down. That’s why I was able to connect with you, that’s why I had a burn that would become all painful and hot whenever you were around.

“I fought it at first, you know. I really, really did, because it was wrong, right? You’re eighteen years older than me and Dad’s best friend, and it killed me to hurt him or be the reason that you guys grew apart. So I hid whenever you were around. I ran to my closet and closed the door. I used the trees as camouflage to be out of sight. But you know what? I kept watching you through the opening of the door and from behind the trees. Because the burn wouldn’t stop. If anything, it kept growing and heightening until it became a volcano. That’s why I kissed you on my eighteenth birthday—the volcano erupted and I couldn’t stop it anymore. But you turned it to ashes when you rejected me and I gave up. Or I tried to, anyway. But the thing is, that volcano was never dormant. It’s been slowly resurrecting, especially since I became your wife. And now it’s about to erupt again, and you’re turning it to ashes. Fucking again. So no, Nate, it’s not that I didn’t want feelings. Feelings are all I have. I’m empathetic. I feel, and I feel deep and hard. I agreed with your stupid no-feelings rule to get whatever I could from you. I believed you’d change with time, but that’s not the case, is it? You’ll always turn my volcano to ashes, won’t you?”

His body tightens during my outburst. His nostrils are flaring and his chest nearly bursts from his heavy breathing. When he speaks, his voice is calm but tight. “What are you saying, Gwyneth?”

“I’m saying that you don’t get to touch me unless you’re willing to give me more.”

“I don’t do feelings and that’s fucking final.”

“Then I won’t do sex. That’s also final.”

“Gwyneth,” he growls.

“What, Nate? What? If you want a whore, go pick one off the side of the street.”

He grabs me hard by the shoulders and shakes me. “Don’t you ever—and I mean, ever—think of yourself as a whore, do you hear me?”