His to Keep

Ch. 3: The Miserable

Sutton

There are a lot of shitty things about my new life with Jason.

Staying in the house except for when we're doing wedding related activities. The fact that I'm marrying Jason at all. Dom's hours being cut because I supposedly don't need her as much since I'm stuck inside.

And, of course, not seeing Nicolai.

That last one absolutely guts me every single day. I can't think about it for too long or I will sink further and further into the depression that's threatening to drag me under.

I'm forced to do the worst thing of all every single night—sleep in the same bed as Jason. He says that since we're engaged, it makes sense. But it makes me fucking sick to my stomach to be so close to him.

I've tried everything to get out of it, but I have no valid argument. If I don't act like I'm happy, he goes to my dad, and he starts in on me. I have no choice in this matter. They've all made that quite clear to me.

So every night, I wear my flannel pajamas—no matter how warm it is—and climb into bed next to the man I used to see as my big brother.

Jason doesn't understand why I don't want to "take our relationship to the next level."

He's fucking delusional. We aren't even at the first level! What, does he think because he kissed me forever ago I automatically want to hook up with him? The thought makes me ill.

Tonight, I slink into bed and pretend to be asleep before he comes in. When I hear his footsteps down the hall, I close my eyes and even out my breathing, hoping he'll just slide into bed without attempting to wake me up.

Jason gets under the cover and shifts onto his side, facing me. I can feel his breath on my neck, and an involuntary shudder passes through me.

Fuck. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, praying that he doesn't—

"Sutton?"

I don't answer, just keep my eyes closed.

"Sutton, are you awake?" His voice is full of concern, and if this were six months ago, I'd have believed it. I may have even curled into his embrace for comfort from a nightmare, because I never would have believed he was the cause of it.

I grind my molars together and hope he leaves me alone.

But like I've grown to expect, hope abandons me when he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me against him, resting his chin on top of my head.

I shift in his embrace and he shushes me, pressing his lips to my temple. "It's okay, Sutton. I'm here. You're not alone anymore."

That's exactly my problem.

But I don't say that. I just give a little cough and say in the sleepiest voice, "Jason, I'm fine, really. I'm—I'm hot, can you give me some space?"

He stiffens. "Well, maybe you wouldn't be if you didn't sleep in those fucking flannel pajamas every night."

He turns me loose and I scoot back over to my side of the bed, turning so I can see him before I answer. "They're comfortable. It's not that, anyway. I just don't like to be held when I sleep."

It's a lie. I loved it when Nicolai held me.

His face flushes, and he runs his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Sutton. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I'm taken aback. I didn't expect him to apologize, and even if I had, I wouldn't have expected him to actually mean it. But he looks sincere.

"It's okay, Jay. It's just a lot to get used to. Living with you like...like this."