Until I Really Do

Chapter Nine

Matthew's fingers curled into fists, anger and frustration rippling through his veins as he forced one foot after the other forward until he was entering one of the five rooms the building possessed, and settling on the slightly smaller bed compared to the bed he was supposed to be sharing with his new wife.

Kicking his boots off, he stretched his rigid body out on the bed and closed his eyes as Sharon's words to him a few seconds ago, rang in his ears.

How did he ever get here?! He mused, tightening his hold on the sheets. How did he move from having his entire life figured out —the plan to invest his life's savings in a farm where he would begin his new life with Gretchen and their children— to having nothing figured out? First it was Gretchen rejecting his proposal, then it was his farm failing, and now, it is his marriage failing even before it begins! Would he ever get anything right?

Gathering the pillow beneath his head in his hands, he sprang to a sitting position and tossed the pillow to the ground; if she didn't want to be married to him, then so be it! He growled, running his fingers through his hair. He would go over there and tell her she could leave! He didn't care for a stubborn woman! He didn't care that that stubborn woman was his only salvation from the controlling fist of his father!

Turning to face the door, he had barely taken three steps to it, before turning back to the bed; he couldn't lose Sharon. He wanted to lose her, but he couldn't for whether he liked it or not, common sense told him that he needed her.

Still —he thought, turning around to face the door once more as he made his way to her room— she obviously didn't want to be here. She made it very clear that she wanted to be left alone. What did she think, that he would leave her alone in his own house?! Surely she knew her being under his roof meant she was subject to his authority?!

Hissing, he withdrew his fist that was poised to knock on her door. No, it was his door! This was his bedroom! She wasn't entitled to it; he only let her stay in it because it was the gentlemanly thing to do. He curled his fist once more and made to knock on the door again. She would open the door, and he would require her to come with him to the courthouse to have their marriage annulled. He would then take her to wherever it was she needed to be, or desired to go to. Perhaps he might even leave her standing there on the sidewalk?

Growling, he turned around sharply, resting his back on the closed door; he couldn't do that, he was incapable of doing any of that. Whether he liked the nasty woman in his bedroom right now or not, he couldn't leave her on the sidewalk. And who knew, perhaps Jenkins would return?

The image of Sharon clinging to him after he had sent Jenkins running off that morning, flashed before his eyes, the memory of the slight trembling of her body as her arms tightened around him, filling his mind. It was in that second that he knew.

Slowly slipping to the wooden floor, he pulled his knees up before him, his elbows resting on his knees as he bowed his head and placed both his hands on his head. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes as the singular reason for Sharon's agreement to his marriage proposal became very clear to him; fear.

~*~

Sharon knew she hurt him. It didn't matter how much he tried to hide the hurt behind his anger, she knew she had managed to push the right buttons to get him out of the room. It was what she wanted, wasn't it? Yet, sleep eluded her. For some reason, guilt stabbed at her heart until she was tossing and turning in bed and only falling asleep at dawn and waking up to find that she had slept most of the morning away.