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She turned, staring at me with cautious eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
I gripped her waist and pulled her into me. “Yeah, just adjusting to everything. I needed a minute for my mind to settle.”
“Adjusting to things like me being here?”
“Yes, but it’s not a bad thing and it’s not about you. Routine is important and when things change, I have to step back for a minute to let them settle.”
“Would it help if I had my own room?” Her brows pinched and I exhaled my frustration. I didn’t want her feeling like she was a problem. She wasn’t.
My fucking twisted ass brain was.
“It’s not you, baby. It will never be you, okay?”
She narrowed her eyes on me but nodded and I could see her relax so I kissed her forehead and she pushed into me.
“But you’ll tell me if I need to do something different or if you need me to pull back?”
The sincerity in her voice shattered my fucking resolve. She was promising to do whatever it took for me to be okay.
“I will.”
But one thing she would never have to worry about was giving less of herself. If anything I would selfishly demand more and that was the part that had me on edge. Because if she ever refused, it would fucking break me.
TWENTY-TWO
cress
My morning had been productive.My husband coaxed me awake with his tongue. Something I could easily get used to. Then he followed the pleasure delivered from his skillful mouth with the most amazing orgasm. With only one month left before I had to settle back into training and dancing daily with the theatre, I couldn’t skip out on my plans to spend the day at my studio. Spending the day in bed with Elias felt like a much better choice but I had to get my body back in shape and a part of me was worried that I needed to give him space.
He insisted he was fine, but I wasn’t completely convinced that was the truth. Which was why I was currently sitting in the coffee shop next to my building sipping on a chai latte while drumming my fingers on the table trying to decide if I was going to betray his trust. Technically I wasn’t but that was how it felt, searching for answers online instead of asking Elias directly. A part of me felt like he was holding back and I wasn’t sure if that was because he was fearful of how I would react or if he was truly okay and there wasn’t a cause for alarm.
I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that being married to a man with mental health issues wouldn’t be a challenge, but I also wanted to be accepting of how the man he was would adjust things in my world.
I had only known Elias for a little over a month but someone needed to convince my mind, heart, and body. Days felt like weeks and weeks felt like months. I wasn’t in love with him, no, but I cared about him deeply and it was different from the emotions I’d experienced with anyone in my past. I wanted him to be happy and whole and I felt a part of that relied on my ability to understand him better.
My husband was a prideful man, strong, resilient, and dangerously alluring, but also guarded. I sensed that he still felt the need to protect himself from me or me from him. As much as I understood his reasoning—rejection from his father, mother, and god knows who else—that wasn’t necessary with me.
I would accept all of him. Even the parts I didn’t understand.
Exhaling a short sigh, I lifted the lid to my laptop and keyed in the words I hoped would bring clarity about the man who was quickly claiming possession of my heart.
The importance of routine with bipolar disorder
After a few seconds, several links filled my screen. I decided to bypass those that didn’t seem to be from official and trusted sources and clicked on one from a psychiatric study from Harvard Medical School. My eyes began scanning the words that took over my screen.
“…a set routine for your day—everyday—can be a lifeline.”
“People with bipolar disorder are especially sensitive to the disruption of routines.”
“Routines prevent disruptions to the brain’s regulatory system…”
“Disruptions can trigger…mania…euphoric…boundless energy…lead you into depression…”
Was that why he’s not sleeping?
Marrying me disrupted his routine?
