18. Ice Water

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I'm more than prepared to wake up alone the next morning, but when I feel something solid pressed against my back, I realize my mistake. I carefully adjust myself, rolling over so I can get a clear view of the man beside me. My heart accelerates instantly. He looks so relaxed and at peace. The lines of stress I've begun to notice on his face are absent. In their place are smooth edges and strong definition. I realize at that moment just how attractive he is.

Sometimes, when you're around someone constantly, they lose that dazzling effect. Their once butterfly-inducing laugh and depth-filled eyes no longer spark that need to gain their attention anymore. It's true what they say, that you only want what you don't have. It's also true that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I've realized, just in these thirty seconds that I've lain watching Seth sleep, that I'm experiencing both of those sensations simultaneously.

Though things between Seth and I seem to be gradually improving, we've still got miles between us. I've been working on closing that gap, but my attempts seem futile. He's not responding the way I'd hoped. I thought by now he'd have found desire again. I thought he'd discover his undying love for me pulsing endlessly through his blood. I thought he'd take me in his arms and declare never to break my heart again.

And yet, I remain broken.

His smiles and subtle kindnesses over the past few days have been a temporary balm over my aching wounds, but it never lasts. He's still so distant and reserved. He doesn't want me in, and I can't figure out why. Why's he so against fixing us? Why's he so content with keeping our marriage in such a state of disarray?

I glance over at him again, happy to continue staring at his flawlessness until the sun burns out, but something catches my eye. My heart stops beating. It almost feels as if it's launched its way up my esophagus because for some reason I can't breathe. Something's blocking my ability to pull air into my lungs.

Right there, sitting on his bedside table is a glass of water—not typically such a big deal—but, what has my lungs and chest constricting in confusion are the little ice cubes floating at the top. Ice doesn't take that long to melt, and there's only one reason they wouldn't have yet.

It's a fresh glass of ice water.

I could be blowing this out of proportion, but it seems to me that Seth actually got out of bed a few minutes ago for water and then actually returned. If he was really as repulsed by me as I assumed he was, then wouldn't he have been up at the crack of dawn unable to bear another moment in my presence?

A goofy excitement comes to life somewhere in the deepest parts of my stomach and I have to control myself from wiggling with joy. Is it possible that he's been denying himself what he really wants all this time? Could it be that he actually desires me?

I'm so caught up in my own elation that I barely notice the black gloom sneaking its way into my mind, but the moment I notice it, it's like a punch to the gut. Suddenly I'm remembering divorce papers, angry eyes pointed at me, rejection, Tracy...

Tracy.

Tracy.

Tracy...

My husband wants to share my bed with me but chooses not to out of guilt. He's already got someone on the side to take care of those needs, he doesn't need two women for that. I guess he's decent enough not to cheat on Tracy while he's cheating on me.

But the thing is, I have no proof.

Sure, his attitude these days stinks, but I have nothing verifying my suspicions. The movies always make it seem so obvious. The lipstick on the man's collar, or the hint of perfume tainting his clothes... but I have yet to find anything on Seth. He's about as clean as rubbing alcohol.

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