She Belongs To Me

Prologue

Three Days Ago...

A loud crack startled Jordan from his sleep. His hand flew to his pounding head as he looked around the room for the source of the noise.

It sounded like a gunshot, or perhaps he was just having another nightmare. Sometimes he couldn't tell the difference.

Years in the military and working as a cop had unquestionably done a number on his psyche, so he always investigated. Often it was his dog chasing a squirrel in his sleep or the cat moving through the wood shutters as she stalked a lizard from behind her prison of glass and brick. These sounds he knew. A gunshot, though also familiar, didn't encroach on his daily routine anymore. Nowadays, most of his police work comprised of slaving behind a desk.

The room was pitch-black, and his alarm hadn't gone off, so it was still early. He patted his wife's side of the bed. Empty. Though, that wasn't unusual. She'd been staying up later than he did, using studying as an excuse, and had been falling asleep on the sofa for weeks. He didn't buy it. Things between them hadn't been the same for months.

But tonight he thought they'd resolved whatever her problem was. He was willing to take some of the blame. But as she'd pointed out with the age-old 'it wasn't him, it was her' line, she'd admitted something was wrong, just not what that something was.

Fuming, he disentangled himself from the blankets that had already twisted around his feet as he thought about their conversation earlier. He'd given her an ultimatum when he came home. He didn't understand what was happening, but things had to change. Dejectedly, he'd informed her if she wanted to leave, fine, just do it and get it over with so he could move on with his life. She hadn't accepted his offer; instead, she started kissing him.

She hadn't come near him in almost two months. Every time he broached the subject, she complained about her school deadlines or she didn't feel well. Tonight was different; she was different. The old passion was there as if it had never left, which it hadn't for him. She was the one who had withdrawn. She was the one who didn't want to be close to him. God how he missed her.

Jordan now wondered if everything earlier had been a performance to distract him. Had she wanted to leave, but wasn't prepared? She would graduate within a few months, something she'd been focusing on the last five years of their marriage. Would she not need him anymore? He hated feeling this way, but what else could explain her aloof manner lately?

His anger almost at the brink, he rolled out of bed, pulling on his boxers and a t-shirt. If she'd fallen asleep on the sofa again, he'd wake her and demand answers. He wouldn't let her sidetrack him by acting as if she wanted him. He loved her, but he couldn't continue like this. He wouldn't. It was too painful.

As he stood, the pounding in his head from the excessive amount of alcohol he'd consumed earlier nearly sent him to his knees. Tonight was the first time in years he'd drank, one of the reasons it'd been so easy for her to persuade him that she wanted him too.

Jordan felt his way out of their master bedroom, opening the door without a sound, unsure if he really wanted to argue in the middle of the night. He shot a quick glance at the clock radio's glowing red numbers: just shy of midnight. It hadn't even been an hour since he'd fallen asleep.

She must have gotten up almost immediately after they'd made love. No, he amended, after they'd had sex as that was all it must have meant to her. He must have been sleeping deeply to already be dreaming of gun battles. His posttraumatic stress disorder rarely allowed him a night without nightmares.