You're Mine

chapter 155

"You didn't say good night to me.", Amelia reminded her husband, looking very sad as she joined him in their bedroom. He was watching TV, snuggling with Eleanor and well, he didn't look much happier than she did.

"Yeah, I was too busy crying.", the redhead replied, his voice sounding hoarse. He avoided her eyes by staring at the weird reality show he was watching. He heard her sigh and felt a little bad, but then again, he had been crying for the past hour because of her.

"El, here's your carrot.", the neurosurgeon informed the dog, who turned around to her mama to grab it with her mouth. "Enjoy.", she added before she walked into the ensuite and got ready for bed.

"Imagine feeding the husky on top of the bed.", she could hear Owen grumble but decided to let this one slip since he was in pain because of her feelings for Anton. She was hoping it was just a weird crush.

"Can I sleep next to you, or do you want me to sleep in the guestroom?", his wife asked once she was done brushing her teeth. She figured patience was the best way to approach her husband right now.

"This is your bed as much as it's mine.", the trauma surgeon answered. Of course, he didn't want her elsewhere, but he wouldn't give her the gratification of phrasing it like that. "Can I finish this show or is the volume bothering you?"

"You can finish it.", the brunette told him and climbed into her side of the bed. She hated how they were currently walking on eggshells, just communicating whenever necessary. It broke her heart.

"Thanks.", her husband said. "Ella, go to bed.", he ordered, watching the dog jump off their bed to go fall asleep in her own. He felt his wife's eyes on him and finally faced her. "Is there something on my cheek?"

"Yeah.", Amelia confidently but quietly responded, confusing him since he hadn't expected that answer because the question hadn't been too serious, he was just annoyed. She scooted closer to him and planted a kiss against his left cheek, noticing how he closed his eyes, trying to stabilize himself.

"Don't do that.", the redhead begged, his voice shaking. His wife watched a tear escape his closed eyes and decided to wrap her arms around his neck to rest her forehead against his temple.

"I don't want you to be in pain because of me.", the neurosurgeon explained. "And I am going to fix this, I promise.", she added, letting her lips meet his cheek in another kiss, this time much slower so they could rest against his skin.

"I wanna be mad at you, but you're making me weak.", Owen whispered, still very focused on keeping his distance. "Let go of me.", he lamely attempted to get control one last time, and when he believed he had finally gotten his wife off him, he realized she had only stopped kissing him but was now snuggling into him. "Ames, you are driving me crazy."

"And you are driving me crazy too.", the brunette mumbled into his neck, softly caressing his chest that was covered by his pajama top. "Because I love you.", she reasoned, waiting for him to finally relax under her touch, but she was surprised when the opposite happened and his body got stiffer.

"And you love Anton.", the trauma surgeon jealously remembered, ruining the moment. Well, Amelia's moment since she had tried to cuddle with him, and he had tried to fight the urge of touching her.

"Owen...", his wife sighed, not moving because she didn't want to look into his disappointed eyes again. When he replied with it being the truth, she responded: "It's not. I like him, that is not the same as loving someone."

"It shouldn't be happening in the first place, doesn't matter what it is you're feeling for that man.", the redhead argued and suddenly, he felt something wetting his shirt, shortly before he heard a sniffle. "Babe..."

"No, it's okay.", Amelia cried. "You're right to be thinking of me as a slut.", she said, her small body was wrecked by the loud sobs she was currently letting out. "It makes sense for you to hate me."

"Stop doing that. Stop making yourself the victim.", her husband begged. "I've never said anything like that. Neither do I believe you're a slut, nor am I hating you. This situation just makes me angry, and I have every right to be mad at you. Still, you don't have to cry about it."

"I am crying because you keep blaming me for something I can't control!", the neurosurgeon replied, still holding on to the fabric of his pajama top, scared that he was done with her once she let go.

"Who else would I be blaming?", Owen questioned, rather annoyed. "I am well aware of the fact that you cannot make those feelings go away by snapping your fingers, but you don't get to be sad about me being angry. And you definitely do not get to make yourself a victim when I am the one who is getting treated unfairly. Now calm down, please.", he scolded her before he finally started stroking her back.