Secrets in the Marriage Bed Read Online Free PDF

hopes. Like so many other meals in the past, it had fallen by the wayside. Except this time it wasn’t Caleb’s work at fault but her own cowardice.
    Lying on her back, she stared at the darkness of the ceiling through tear-filled eyes and thought about the mess she’d made of her life. It was no use continuing to blame Caleb for the field of broken dreams that had become their marriage, no matter how easy that was. She was as much, if not more, to blame. If only she’d stood up to him at the start and said what was in her heart, he would have never begun to believe that she didn’t want him.
    How had he survived?
    “Because he’s strong,” she whispered to the darkness. Strong and used to fighting for everything he’d ever gotten from life. But he’d been unable to fight her inhibitions, unable to fight years of Grandmother Ada’s pitiless conditioning.
    Why hadn’t he ever told her what she was doing to him? And why hadn’t she ever asked him what he needed, what he wanted in bed? Accustomed to Caleb taking charge, she’d always allowed him to focus on pleasing her. Especially in bed. When had she ever tried to please him?
    Never.
    Her heart clenched. Her inexperience was no excuse, not when she’d soon realized that Caleb needed something from her that she didn’t know how to give. Instead of asking him, she’d buried her head in the sand and pretended everything was okay, using the coping tactic that had allowed her to survive after her mother had abandoned her on Ada’s doorstep. However, mere survival was no longer enough. She wanted to live.
    Pushing aside the blanket, she got up and padded down the wide hallway to the kitchen. The romantic glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows seemed to mock her as she pulled a carton of milk from the fridge. Pouring some into a glass, she replaced the carton and put her cold fingers to her eyelids.
    A creaking noise came from the hallway and a second later, Caleb entered the kitchen wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts. “What are you doing up?” His voice was rough, his hair mussed.
    “I couldn’t sleep.” She raised her glass in explanation. “Do you want some?” Caleb stood only a few feet from her and yet miles away. She didn’t know if she had the courage to cross the divide.
    He merely raised an eyebrow at the offer.
    Finishing her drink, she put the glass in the sink and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her flannel pj’s. “Did I wake you?” Was she going to pretend that he hadn’t left her naked and alone in bed? Continue living her life in a fantasy world? Or was she finally going to say what needed to be said?
    “No.”
    God, he was so beautiful to her and she was so afraid to touch him. Swallowing, she crossed the cool tiles until she was less than an arm’s length away. “I guess you have a busy day tomorrow. You should try to sleep.” Why couldn’t she say what she so desperately wanted to say?
    She tried to force the truth out, fighting years of being told that passion and desire were dangerous and destructive. Words bubbled up in her throat but no matter how hard she pushed, fear kept her lips from shaping them into sound.
    Something like disappointment flickered in Caleb’s eyes but she couldn’t be sure in the semidarkness of the room. He simply moved to let her pass, then fell in step behind her. She heard him enter the guest bedroom a few seconds after she’d shut the door to the master bedroom and slumped against it.
    More tears burned at the back of her eyes, mute evidence of her frustration and anger. What was wrong with her? Was she so cowardly that she couldn’t even take the necessary steps toward saving her marriage? Was she going to settle for this half-life, with her husband thinking she couldn’t bear his touch?
    So angry with herself that she wanted to scream, she forced herself to remember each moment of the two months she’d spent alone in this house. Every single day she’d come into this