She hated when he did that. He was thinking. Contemplating. Judging what would be the best thing to say to remedy her problem. Love wasn’t enough. ...ords weren’t enough. Maybe nothing was enough. She rolled over onto her side, away from the weight on the mattress that she knew was him. A small cry escaped her lips as he shoved her face down onto the mattress. Her eyes opened out of shock, not because of a voluntary reaction. Although tempted to look over her shoulder at him, she kept her gaze. I knew she was still mad, but we were both hurt right now, and when I get hurt, even by her, all I want to do is just hold her in my arms. I don’t know how many nights I had spent clutching my pillow to my chest, hoping when I opened my eyes it would be her. Yet nothing could ever replicate the feeling of my arms around her and her soft, warm body pressed against mine. ‘Why does this happen?’ She said, a touch of anger and sadness in her voice. ‘I don’t know.’ I usually would try to say. More

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