∷ Chapter 22 ∷

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ADINE RETIRED TO the bedroom that night to find Sebastian standing on her side of the bed. His back was to the door, hair dripping wet as he casually dried it with one end of the towel hanging around his neck.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He turned at the sound of her voice, holding up the cylindrical object he'd been inspecting prior to her arrival. Her eyes widened upon seeing it, rushing to snatch it from him, the pills inside the canister rattling at the impact.

"What are you doing?" she repeated, the question now laced with anger. "Why are you going through my things?"

He stared at her in contemplating silence before moving past her to sit on his side of the bed. After a while, he said, "I wasn't. You left it on your side table."

Adine glanced at the canister in her hand, teeth gritted when she realised the truth in his words. She reined in her frustrations, tossing the pills in the drawer before making a point to slam it shut, the sound resounding throughout the room. She couldn't fault him for his curiosity, yet it greatly annoyed her to find him inserting himself amongst the bits and pieces of her life.

"What are those pills for?" he asked.

"You're a doctor," she responded. "You know what they're for."

Sebastian reached for the book he kept by his bedside. He opened it to a random page and pretended to read, a plausible excuse for him not to look his wife in the face.

"You told me you didn't need help with your insomnia and yet you get sleeping pills from Dr Devon," he said.

There was a slight lilt in his voice towards the end, causing her to frown in confusion. Was he asking her a question, or was he stating a fact? Whatever it was, Adine proceeded by enunciating her disregard of the pills, adding, "Dr Devon is my doctor. I can't stop him from prescribing them to me if he thinks I need them."

"That may be so, but I am your husband and a doctor. I can very well prescribe them to you if you told me you needed them," Sebastian refuted, unable to stop the displeasure from seeping into his tone.

"We're nothing but strangers," Adine said. "I don't even know what's your favourite colour, so don't come at me with the whole we're married thing. None of that applies to us."

Sebastian scowled, his displeasure increasing by the second. He could've responded in spite but decided against it. He had no intention of prolonging the argument beyond what it was worth and couldn't disagree with her either. She was right. They were strangers and he had made it a point to reiterate the insignificance of their relationship. Her doubts were not completely unfounded.

Instead, he said, "Black."

"What?"

"My favourite colour. It's black."

Adine stared at him, appalled at the way he'd shifted the course of their conversation so quickly, no doubt a means to bring the argument to a halt. She exhaled, freeing the last remnants of her irritation as she settled next to him on the bed. They lay next to each other in silence until she said, "Did you eat the cupcakes?"

"I did," he said, unseeing eyes still fixed on the open book in his hands.

"Did you like it?"

"No. I don't like—"

"Sweet things," she interrupted. "I get it."

Sebastian glanced at her from the corner of his eye and when he deemed the conversation over, he closed his book and returned it to its designated spot on the bedside table. He decided to give it a rest and try again another time. He wasn't much of a conversationalist himself but got by just fine. Though ironically, it was his wife with whom he found it immensely difficult to have a conversation.

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