12. I'm Going Mad

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Last night, after our brief walk, Seth and I returned back to the house where we immediately parted ways with a whispered 'goodnight'. Though my mind was wired and desperate after our interesting conversation, I surprisingly found myself waking up at nine o'clock, which means I actually did get some sleep for once.

The room is empty when I peel my lids apart, but I stay horizontal, staring at the ceiling. I've debated Seth's actions many times before, and it wasn't until last night that something odd crossed my mind. He mentioned that he'd enjoyed it, right? That the kiss we shared was pleasant? Then why did he run?

The thoughts even followed me into my sleep where I kept having similar dreams. We'd be talking and suddenly his face would morph into a scowl and he'd desert me without any explanation. Or I'd lean in for a hug and he'd brush me off like some lame distraction.

The distance between us is gargantuan, but last night, something happened. We connected. In fact, I get this strange feeling that he truly does care for me. Maybe he's just forgotten how to show it. Could it be that we've both just grown so accustomed to our busy lifestyle that we've neglected the most important aspect of it?... our marriage.

It's a strange world we live in. Males and females are odd creatures. We think too much and act too little. If I could just let go of some of my thoughts and not let everything Seth does affect me, then life could be so much easier.

I smile to myself as I stretch my arms over my head and roll out from under my blankets. Seth had packed a few clothing items for me before making the drive out here, so I snatch a sweater from it and zip it up. I'm too lazy to put on a bra at the moment, so this will have to do. I then trudge my way down the hall and into the kitchen. The scent of breakfast nearly smacks me in the face—it's either that powerful or I'm just that hungry.

I find Seth and my mom bustling around the kitchen, frying up eggs and bacon and setting a pot of coffee to brew. Mumbling a 'good morning', I get busy snooping through the cabinets for teabags. There's gotta be at least one, right? But nope. Nothing. Jackson's cabinets are about as bare as Aunt Gracie's butt that one time she forgot her pants. Memory loss is a monster, but I have to admit, recalling that moment does put a horrified smile on my face. I'm just glad I only saw her from behind—literally.

"Sleep well?" my mom asks, watching as I pour steaming water into a mug.

"Nope," I tell her honestly and without any hesitation.

She stops whisking eggs and glances over her shoulder at me. "That's what Seth said, too." She turns back to her task and skillfully dumps the eggs into a sizzling skillet. "Probably because you didn't have each other to snuggle with."

She laughs at her own awkward assumption, but Seth and I barely react. I glance up, surprised to find his eyes on me, and we share a look of near panic. Apparently, she doesn't suspect anything being wrong between us.

For a moment, I wonder if the look on Seth's face is surprise. Did he expect my mom to already know the details of our private lives? Did he think I had already spilled my weepy heart all over her strong shoulders?

I offer him a tight smile before slicing open a lime and squeezing it into my steaming cup.

"Maybe," I say, hoping that my simple response will kill the conversation.

Thankfully, it works, and we all finish our tasks in silence. After stirring a couple of spoonfuls of honey into my lime water, I blow some of the steam away and take a hesitant sip. Perfection! I'm suddenly grateful that Jackson didn't have any tea in the house. This was exactly what I needed. I can almost feel the lime sizzling through my body and detoxifying it of all stress. I close my eyes and take another drink.

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