ley

, I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my breathing to slow, pretending to be asle

side the bed. I could feel his gaze on me for a long, suffocating minute. I waited for

pulled my stiff body back against his chest. He rested his chin on the crown of my head, hi

ick game was this? Brutalize me to pro

sleep. In two years of marriage, aside from posing for photographer

and I stayed that way as the morning climbed toward noon. It was exhaustion-not peace-that f

ning eyes. Beckett was still fast asleep behind me, his heav

thick lashes casting dark shadows over his cheekbones,

h the pathetic illusion that we were a n

d. It was his phone. Carefully I slid

the screen

ingered evaporated. I silenced the ringer, tossed his phone b

stomach with a dull cramp. In the mirror I stared at my bloodles

small cardboard box-emergency contraception. Having lost one child to this sh

cupped cold water, and swallowed them down. The

in a crisp white shirt and gray trousers, every inch the unto

id nothing, walking past the bed to the wardrobe for a hig

furrowing as he stood.

urtleneck, and cut him off. "N

tighte

our breath." My voice was flat and co

me with a tangled mess of frustration and someth

over my head, and stepped into my jeans right there in front

stopped me. "There's a team party tonight. Hosted by the ma

his stable marriage in front of the league executives. I did not answer. I yanked t

rly slid to the floor. Pressing a hand over my cramping stomach, I stared do