15

Clark stretches on the bed pushing the pillow dividing the bed we share for the 4th time this night towards me. “Remind me again why I agreed to get married to you and most importantly why I even agreed to share a bed with you” I sigh.

Clark had convinced me the night we moved in that we had to share a room. He stated points that seemed reasonable, especially the fact that our parents could walk in anytime and discover us.

But I think the main reason why I accepted that night was because I was tired and didn’t want to be alone in a house I’m not familiar with.

He smiles, “the way I remember it, you literally begged to get married to me and you couldn’t wait to share a room with me” he says, turning on the light.

I roll my eyes, “there’s absolutely no way in this world that I’d ever do that, you’re not even my type” I joke, inwardly admitting that he’s the type of guy I’d usually date. “Is it too late to get my own room?” I pout.

“If I’m not your type, then who’s your type?” Clark asks