I'm startled as the kitchen door opens and I look up. I can't take my eyes off Arielle when she walks in, clad in an extremely form-fitting sports bra. Her eyes widen and she freezes at the sight of me. "Good morning," she says, forcing a grin. " morning." Recently, there has been an odd vibe between us. It seems as though we have forgotten how to act normal around one another, even though we were once such close friends. I guess I'm mostly to blame for that. To avoid sharing a bed with her, I've been getting up early and working late. I'm sorry for pressuring her into this marriage, but ignoring her won't make anything better. I think I'm just making her feel uneasy, and I'm sure she's starting to feel uncomfortable around me. I had to pull myself together. I get an amazing glimpse of Arielle's ass as she approaches the coffee maker. This is one of the reasons I have avoided her company this entire week. It is hard not to notice how incredibly gorgeous she is while she is here at home with me. It's tough to think just looking at her in her sultry nightgowns. I'm afraid I'll say or do anything improper. I'm not sure how to handle Arielle and I'm walking on this strange tightrope between being married and just being friends. "Ariel?" I force a grin on my face as I gaze up at Arielle. "May I ask if you would like another cup of coffee?" I give a shake of my head and cock towards the refrigerator. "No, I'm grateful. You have some breakfast in the refrigerator. You haven't been eating much, according to Mrs Bedwin? Are you not fond of the food? She tensely shakes her head for a little moment. "No, that isn't it. I simply... Ariel, I can't eat much. Remember that I'm a model? I move away from the kitchen counter and approach her, putting my hands around her waist and letting my fingers meet at both ends. "Arielle, if you have a little extra to eat. You will realize that you will still be the hottest woman alive. She grins as her eyes enlarge. "Is that accurate?" I realize what I just said and bite my lip. What's the matter with me? That's precisely what has been causing me concern. What changed if I've always had trouble suppressing inappropriate thoughts about her? She follows me and puts her hands around my tie as I release her and go away. She begs, "Can we stop?" in a desperate tone. "What should I stop?" "This," she murmurs. "Dancing around one another, staying apart. After a week of marriage, I hardly ever see you, let alone talk to you. Why does it seem like I lost contact with one of my best friends? I'm surprised by her remarks and instinctively reach for her, lightly touching her cheek with the back of my palm. "Arielle," I mumble. "I simply... I figured it would be best to give you some room. For both of us, the past several days have been extremely busy. I was concerned that I would upset you. I'm not sure why we would be in one other's personal space like that. I just didn't want to bother you too much. Although it's not the whole truth, it's the closest I can provide her with at this time. "You are," she responds. "You are keeping your distance from me, which is unsettling. It's strange, and I detest it. Ariel, we have always been buddies. Why should that be changed? Surely, being married ought to have brought us closer? Do you think that much hatred for me as your spouse? Her eyes flare with a touch of pain, and it breaks my heart. Fuck it. How come? Not at all, Arielle. How the fuck do you think? With ease, I slip my hands around her waist and raise her onto the kitchen counter. She puts her hands against my chest and her eyes widen. I move towards her and stand between her knees, not knowing what to say but not being able to ignore my sudden, overwhelming need to comfort her. "Arielle", I just feel bad." Loretta has my ire, and I'm also upset with myself for treating you badly. Fuck it. I simply... How do I articulate that I'm finding it difficult to accept that the life I meticulously mapped out has simply disappeared? How do I explain to her that my head is in total jumble and that I don't know why I'm not more disappointed in the way things turned out and that Loretta and I had to split ways?
I should be devastated, yet more often than not, Arielle is on my mind instead of Loretta. I want to treat her right, but I'm not sure how to go about doing that. I refuse to trim her wings. I want her grin to remain bright. I do not want her to feel confined to our marriage. I'm afraid she's going to be angry with me for making her do this. She takes a trembling breath and meets my gaze. "I'll never be her," she murmurs. Ariel, I am aware of that. You don't want to wake up to me, I know. I am aware that having me in your bed at night bothers you. I understand. I am aware of your pain, Ariel. But please, please, don't cut off contact with me. I'm not requesting that you handle me like your wife. All I'm asking is for you to be a friend. Ariel, I miss you. How should I proceed? How may I lessen the discomfort of my presence for you? "Tolerable?" Confused, I repeat."Lollipop, fucking hell." I meet her forehead and take a long breath. Her scent has always been sunshine and vanilla cupcakes. Not much has changed over the years, but a lot has. "I sincerely apologize." I step back to give her a look. "Baby, it's not you. It doesn't even somewhat bother me that you're in my house. The reverse is true. I'm concerned that you feel uneasy with me. To be honest with you, Arielle, I'm finding it difficult to comprehend everything that has transpired. You're my wife now, which is hard to believe, and I'm not sure what that even means for the two of us. Her smile tightens my heart with its sweetness. We didn't have to figure it out straight immediately, didn't we? But I can tell you this: I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Not much you could do would make me feel uneasy, and if it did, I would just tell you. She puts a finger to her mouth. "These lips are quite good at grumbling about stuff. Ariel, I'm not some weak woman you have to defend.If I hadn't decided to marry you, I wouldn't be here. I look down to her lips and give it a forceful swallow. Fuck it. On our wedding day, she tasted so amazing that I've been craving another taste ever since. If I told her that I've been a fucking mess because I desire her and fantasize about her every single night, how would she respond? Would she believe me to be a sick little bitch? "You're heard," I mumble. "From now on, I'll perform better." She gives a nod. "Please stop avoiding me." "I swear,"