Strings Attached

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"Why are you still afraid when I've promised you I wouldn't push you past your boundaries?" The fact that I had hurt her didn't slip my mind, but all those nights I had kept my hands away from her had to have counted for something. I fixated my eyes on hers and looked at her softly. "What do you think I'll do?"

Her breathing became harsher and her face reddened like a hot furnace.

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters," I asserted firmly. "What scares you right now?"

"I... I think you'll..." Her cheeks were on fire and I brushed my knuckles along one of them, encouraging her to continue. She finished the sentence in a shaky breath, "touch me."

Taken aback by her admission, I continued running my fingers down her hair and along her cheeks, observing her reactions with undivided interest. 

"This is what scares you?" I asked in confusion and she nodded shyly after a while, wanting to hide from me, but I wouldn't allow it. My eyes were trained on hers. "Is it that bad?"

I gently let my hand slide down her shoulder and I could feel her shiver beneath my touch as she shook her head. The strange thing was that I had a feeling she didn't shiver from fear, but from something else entirely. But that couldn't be...

"Tell me how to make it better," I demanded softly, pushing the thoughts of her confusing response aside. "What do you want me to do?"

"There is nothing you can do," she answered in a resigned voice like she had already accepted the fact that things between us would never change.

"You can't keep shutting me out forever, Isabelle," I said with a note of pleading because I needed her to cooperate and realize I wanted us to move forward. "Whether you like it or not, we are stuck together for an indefinite period of time and we have to find a way to reach common ground. Do you really want to stay miserable for years to come?"

The words seemed to have gotten to her on some deeper level and something shifted in her eyes.

"No...I don't want to be miserable," she admitted in a small, wounded voice.

"Then talk to me," I requested, sensing that she needed a soft push to continue. "Make me understand."

"What do you want to understand?" she asked with caution.

The question I was about to ask had been at the tip of my tongue since the beginning of our marriage, but the possibility that I'd make her upset made me hesitate.

"Why did you choose this life if it makes you so unhappy?"

She looked at me with obvious uncertainty and then she seemed to have crumbled under the pressure.

"This is not the life I wanted. This is not how I envisioned my future and definitely not my marriage." Her voice turned wobbly and she paused like she needed a moment to compose herself. It was hard for me to see the apparent sadness in her eyes, but it was important for us to come clean to each other. I was about to encourage her to speak further, but she interrupted me, misunderstanding my intentions "I don't blame you...How could I when we both know I'm not the wife you would have chosen for yourself." A part of me wanted to deny it, but I couldn't lie to her. If it was up to me, I would have never married her. The way she gazed at me, told me she was well aware of that and what she said next only confirmed it. "I know that I imposed on your life like an unwanted intruder, but I couldn't imagine it would be like this. I always thought..."

Her cheeks flushed in shame and she stopped talking. There was a clear idea in my mind of what she meant, but I needed her to say it.

"What did you think?" I probed gently.