Chapter 13

ASTOR

My eyes lingered on the serene expression of my sleeping wife. I knew the Advil that I had given her was going to knock her out clean and give her effective relief from her hangover the next time she woke up.

For some reason, I wasn't fascinated by the idea of seeing her in pain. I didn't like the idea of her going through any sort of discomfort. I closed my eyes for a brief second and cringed because the last thing that I wanted to do was admit it to myself.

It's been how long, and you're already beginning to care for her. How ironic. The icy sarcasm of my subconscious hit me. This was the last thing that I was willing to admit to myself. Sure. Everything about her fascinated me, downright to her feistiness, but I wasn't entirely sure that I was in the mental headspace to classify it as caring.

I had some sort of pride in not allowing myself to rely on feelings and sentiments. It was weak. Except now I had absolutely no answer for this strange tug in my chest whenever I gla