“Cozy? You think I was going for cozy?” Stephanie pushed from his lap, searching for her robe to cover her black demi cupped satin corset. She marched back and forth across the new hardwood floors in her stilettos. “Do you even get what this is doing to me? Do you even care? You're my husband, Markus! Why won’t you touch me?”
Markus was a statue. He squeezed his eyes shut as he massaged his temples silently. His words wouldn't budge. Finally looking into his wife's eyes, Markus attempted to speak, but nothing came forth. He dropped his head again with a sigh.
“Say something! Don’t you dare just sit there with that clueless look on your face, Markus William Hall! Say something!” She felt the fire burning in her eyes as she tried to resist crying, but her husband offered no words to console her or explain his distance. “Have you ever loved me, Markus? You don’t ever touch me! EVER! I’m tired of this, and I do not have to settle for this.”
Rejection swallowed her heart as Stephanie charged up the stairway to her room. Usually in desperate times, Stephanie would call on her Lord, but desperation began to drain her dry. She refused to call on God. It apparently was getting her nowhere.