My Wife, My Rules – 25. chapter

The room was still wrapped in dimness. Light filtered slowly through the curtains, drawing pale bands across the carpet. The silence inside was gentle and calm, the kind that did not wake but sheltered. Aiden lay on his side, facing her. One arm was tucked beneath his head. His eyes were open, unmoving, fixed on Tess. She was asleep. With her back to him, curled up so fragile, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, long hair sliding over her shoulder. She wore a nightgown. Simple. White. Slightly wrinkled. The fabric had ridden up a little at her hip. At first, he noticed it only vaguely, as an accidental detail. But when she shifted, when her thigh became a little more exposed, his gaze slid lower on its own.

He froze. Beneath the thin hem of fabric, a darker shadow showed through. Not skin tone. Not a natural shade. Something… was wrong. He slowly propped himself on one elbow. His searching gaze narrowed. Her nightgown was gathered halfway up her thigh. And beneath it… a deep purple streak. Irregular. Swollen. A bruise. Not one. Several. He held his breath.

He reached out and, very carefully, gently lifted the fabric higher. Just a little. Tess did not stir. He continued. The nightgown slowly gave way in his hand, revealing her entire thigh, her hip… and then the blow landed in his stomach. Skin that was usually pale and smooth was now mottled with large, dark bruises. Some already blue, others red and inflamed, one still freshly swollen, as if struck by a hard edge. Wide scratches, dried into thin lines of blood, completed the image of brutal force.

He lifted the fabric higher. And it was worse. Bruises ran along the full length of her spine, from her lower back up to her shoulder blades. Not straight. Uneven. As if something had dragged her across stones. As if she had fallen. Violently. Heavily. He stopped. Didn’t breathe. Only stared. The hand he had reached toward her hovered in the air. Afraid to touch her. Unable to understand how he had not noticed sooner.

How he had not let her speak. How he had destroyed her with accusations last night while her body had already been completely broken. Slowly, he lowered his palm onto her shoulder blade. Light as a feather. Barely a touch, no pressure at all. The skin beneath his fingers was hot. Aiden closed his eyes. His chest tightened. Not with anger. Not with blame toward her. Only guilt. Deep, masculine, crushing guilt.

“My God…” he whispered.

Tess shifted slightly but did not wake. She murmured contentedly, as one does when a familiar touch reaches them through sleep. She leaned back into his palm. Then stirred again and slowly opened her eyes, sleep still clouding them.

“Aiden?” she whispered.

“When did this happen?” he asked. His voice was quiet, but it cut the air like a blade.

She knew immediately what he had just discovered.

“Just before sunset. I was already on my way home. The horse slipped, and I fell. I slid down toward the stream. I think I passed out, because the next thing I remember, it was already dark all around. And I still had to find the horse, but by then it was too late anyway, and the search wasn’t going very fast anymore. But… it’s not bad,” she added quickly, almost ashamed.

His jaw tightened.

“Not bad?” he repeated slowly. “You have massive bruises all over your body. Swelling. Scratches. And you’re saying it’s not bad?”

“It isn’t,” she whispered. “Really. It turned out all right.”

“I’m calling a doctor,” he said.

“No,” she breathed instantly.

“I’m calling a doctor,” he repeated, his voice rising a notch.

“Aiden, I don’t want anyone coming here.”

“Tess, this is not a discussion.” He sat up, still looking straight at her, with a direct gaze that allowed no resistance. “I don’t care what you want. I care that you’re okay. And that responsibility, forgive me, I’m not leaving to your judgment. I understand you’re afraid of strangers. But this is not a negotiation.”

She moved, tried to push herself up, but hissed and collapsed back onto the mattress.

“I’m going,” he said one last time, nervous and firm.

He rose from the bed. Without anger. But with overwhelming fear for her and a quiet, unshakable certainty that on this, he would not yield even a little.

Tess closed her eyes. Silence. Then, without moving, she spoke softly.

“He won’t be allowed to touch me anyway.”

He stopped.

“Right? You promised me, after all,” she added. “That no one would ever touch me again without my explicit consent.”

Only then did he slowly turn.

“Tess, this is an exceptional situation. It isn’t fair to ask this of me now.”

“Mm. So your word only stands when it suits you?”

He pierced her with his gaze. His face tightened with disapproval, maybe even anger. He wanted to say something. Something conciliatory. Logical. Necessary. But he stayed silent. For a long time. Then he only nodded quietly.

“My word always stands.”

He remained upright, shoulders slightly tense, as if the inner struggle had not yet ended. He did not know what frightened him more. The bruises. The silence between them. Or the fact that she had not thought it important to tell him.

“What if something is broken?” he asked suddenly. His voice was quiet, but insistent. “Ribs. Wrist. Pelvis. Not everything has to hurt right away.”

Tess pushed herself slightly onto one elbow, effort showing in her face. Her eyes held patience, not defiance.

“Aiden… if something were broken,” she said slowly, “I think I would have noticed last night… with all those movements. Don’t you?”

He pressed his lips together, turned away for a moment as if to find breath. Then looked back at her, straight and hard.

“And instead of lying down and protecting your own body, you took care of my foolish pleasure.”

She was silent only briefly, but it was enough for her gaze to soften.

“Last night it didn’t hurt, Aiden. Truly. It was as if my body shut it off. Maybe adrenaline. Maybe fear. But in that moment… I felt you. Not pain. You. And I wanted it. With my whole heart. It was beautiful.”

She paused, glanced aside, then back at him, her voice trembling gently.

“I wanted to tell you what I feel. I wanted you to know… like this. So close.”

Aiden did not move. His chest rose heavily. He did not look away. He watched her. Deeply. For a long time. Angrily too. Helplessly too. He shook his head, pulled a chair close to her side of the bed, and watched as she closed her eyes halfway.

She did not sleep. She simply lay there. Nearly half an hour passed before she suddenly sat up and uncovered herself.

“I’m bored,” she declared.

“You’re not getting out of that bed!” he growled quietly. “Or will you let me call a doctor?”

“That’s not happening,” Tess snapped and sharply pulled the covers back over herself. She immediately realized it was a mistake, her face twisting with pain as she hissed.

Aiden’s heart clenched. He closed his eyes briefly.

“Can I at least read?” she asked, bolder than she should have been. He let it pass in silence.

“Of course.” He handed her the book from the table.

But even that lasted only a few dozen minutes. Her whole body ached. She shifted lower, searching for a position.

“You’re very demanding,” Aiden said suddenly. She looked at him, surprised, questioning.

“One would think you have practically no needs and that this would be easy. But with you, it’s like a wild river. Every moment I’m at the peak of a different emotion. Last night, from sunset onward, my entire world was slowly falling apart minute by minute. Then you arrived, and with one wave of your hand my life turned into perfect paradise. I wake up this morning and within minutes I feel enormous regret and guilt. Now I’m terrified and you’ve rendered me completely helpless. And I can’t shake the feeling that today will still bring furious anger as well.”

She smirked in amusement, trying to smile at him gently and supportively.

“I’m sorry.”

“That I can’t call a doctor? Will you allow it?”

“No. I’m just a little battered. Nothing more.”

“Hm. And here comes the anger,” Aiden noted dryly.

She didn’t respond.

The silence between them shifted. It was no longer just rest. Something unnamed crept into the room. Tess turned onto her side again, closed her eyes, and for a moment seemed to drift. Aiden watched her. Silently, but very closely. Something felt wrong.

A few minutes later, her breathing changed. Shallower. As if warmer. She pushed the blanket from her shoulder, though the room was not particularly warm.

He rose from the chair, stepped to the bed, and placed his palm against her forehead.

He froze instantly.

The skin under his hand burned.

“Kitty…” he said softly. The tone was different now. Tense. Tender only on the surface.

She opened her eyes. They were oddly clouded.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Fever,” he said low. “And not a mild one.”

She frowned. “It’s nothing. Probably just a tired body.”

“No,” he rasped. “It could be internal inflammation. Some injury. I want to call…”

“No,” she interrupted. Weak, but firm. “It will pass. It only needs rest.”

“That’s not rest. That’s the body deceiving you!” his voice rose, then he forced it back down when he saw her flinch at the sound. He sat on the edge of the bed and lowered his face to her cheek.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, Tess. Don’t take away my chance to protect you. Let me call a doctor.”

Silence. She heard his broken voice, unsteadily placed. Felt his fingers at her wrist, quietly checking her pulse.

“Aiden…” she opened her eyes and looked straight at him. “I know you’re afraid. But I’m not in danger. I know my own body. I’m just tired and battered. If I felt it was serious, I would tell you.”

“And what if you’re just convincing yourself? Or me? What if you wanted to give yourself to me last night and now you’re paying for it?”

She smiled faintly.

“I wouldn’t regret it anyway.”

Aiden closed his eyes and clenched his fists. His chest rose unevenly.

If I were not so afraid for you, I would tear you apart with anger.