After showering where I do some of my best thinking, I approach her bedroom door, just wearing a loose pair of sleep pants hanging low on my hips and no shirt. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m going to use everything in my arsenal to remind her why we are good together. Even if she just wants my body, I can work with that.

Knocking gently, I hear her shuffling toward the door.

As she opens it, I can see her eyes are a little puffy, and I don’t doubt she has been crying in the shower.

“Ready for bed, birthday girl?” I ask, trying to keep it light even though we can both feel the heaviness between us.

“I’m tired. I think I might just sleep in here tonight.”

And straight away, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck spike up and my temper start to climb.

“Not happening. You’ll just wake in the night, and I’ll end up in here anyway. You will sleep with me, you need me.” I reach out to take her hand, but she pulls it back so quickly.

“I don’t need you,” she proclaims. “I chose to sleep in your room, but I can do this on my own. I have been surviving for twenty years without you, so like I said, I don’t need you. Good night.” Her words are all bluff, and I can see the anxiety of sleeping on her own written all over her face.

As she starts to close the door, I push my hand against it to stop her.

“Don’t do this, Harper, don’t shut me out. I know you are scared, but please just let me hold you. At least for tonight.” I’m trying so hard not to yell these words and have kept my voice as calm as I can, but it’s a struggle.

I can see in her eyes the internal fight she is having with herself. But her fear overcomes her stubbornness, and she lets go of the door and starts to push past me.

“Fine, but only because I want birthday sex.” The sassy attitude she puts on as a front to hide her insecurity comes out, and I step back, letting her past me.

Taking a deep breath to control my displeasure at her words, I do the same as her and resort to my default to distract her from thinking about her fears.

“Okay, cookie, as you wish.” I turn and follow her, listening to her groan at my name for her.

“I’m not food, for Christ’s sake,” she grumbles as she crawls into her side of our bed. Yes, it’s no longer my bed. From that first night I opened my arms to her, it was forever ours.

“Maybe I’m hungry?” I tease, watching her roll her eyes at me.