–Livana–
Seeing my husband being extra careful—so careful that he would not even let me walk—was a pain in the ass. I was ordered to stay in bed and "just relax," as though I were some delicate trinket meant to gather dust on a shelf.
The most infuriating part, however, was that Damon confiscated my tablet, my phone, and my headset. I can't even go to my study room. He caged me under "care" and called it love. I need real-time updates from Jane and Logan, and Sophia comes to report everything from the lab—but Damon always cuts her off halfway, declaring that I "cannot listen to anything stressful."
I wanted to roll my eyes so hard they'd orbit back into place. He is the one stressing me.
"Just rest, okay?" he insisted.
My hand brushed against a throw pillow. I grabbed it and hurled it in his direction. He didn't even dodge.
"Leave," I said coldly.
He sighed and left, footsteps soft—hesitant.
