Page 133 of The Obedient Lie
She’d said it.
We heard her.
And now?
Now we were building the fucking bed.
One bed.
No more pulling her between ours.
No more separate beds, separate touches, separate secrets.
We’d already taken her heart.
Now we were claiming the space.
“Get the slats,” Bastion muttered.
I tossed them over, still grinning like a maniac. “Think she’ll cry when she sees it?”
“She’ll cry when shefeelsit,” he said, tone dark with promise.
We still had to dismantle our own beds.
This wasn’t aboutmeand Bastion.
This was abouther.
I caught one of our cousins lingering outside the doorearlier, eyes narrowing when he saw the size of the new frame. He knew what it meant. Knew it wasn’t just some fancy mattress.
It was a declaration.
She's not on the market. She's not on offer. She's ours.
But what Ireallycouldn’t wait for…
Was the look on her face.
Her bed? Gone.
Ours? Gone.
Justthis onenow.
One bed, one answer.
The kind of answer you feel in your body long before your mind catches up.
She’d walk in, probably tired, probably expecting to crash in her usual corner like nothing had changed.
Except everything had.
This bed gave her no escape route.
No cushion of neutrality.
No safe zone to fake distance or pretend like last night’s confession hadn’t happened.
