3 min read
The Cold Shoulder
“Leave the light on.” she said quietly, barely above a whisper. I withdrew my hand from the light switch, and shuffled over toward where she lay, a single bed sheet covering her. Stifling a yawn with my hand, I lifted the sheet and snuggled in beside her. I didn’t know which was colder, the bed itself or the lack of response from her. Sure, I’d been in the doghouse before (what married man hasn’t?), but this was something different. I trailed a single finger down her bare back, moving slowly over those points years of experience had identified as those guaranteed to slowly awaken her, or earn a swift rebuke if sleep was all she had planned for the evening.…