We had been married for three years, yet my husband, Richard Thornton, who suffered from touch deprivation syndrome, still refused to consummate our marriage.

Every time his condition flared up, he would only press his forehead tightly against the curve of my neck.

I assumed he was saving himself for his first love, the woman who had left years ago. Then, I overheard him talking to his friends.

"Stop teasing her next time. It makes her tense up every time."

"Got it, Richard. But if you care about Valeria so much, why won't you touch her? It's been three years. Aren't you worried she'll leave you for someone else?"

Richard shook his head. "You don't understand. The longer we're together, the harder it is to control myself around her. She's so delicate. I'm terrified I'll hurt her. As long as she's mine, I wouldn't care even if she slept with someone else first."

His friends burst out laughing. "Richard, you're all talk. If you could really handle her being with another man, you wouldn't keep running to the hospital. You think we don't know what you're up to?"

The next day, I found Richard's medical records. Visit after visit, he kept asking the same question, "How can I be gentler in bed? I don't want to hurt the woman I love."

After my 99th failed attempt to be intimate with my husband, Richard Thornton, I could not help but ask, "Richard, is there something wrong with me? Why won't you touch me after all these years of marriage?"

He was perfect in every other way. He remembered every anniversary and every special occasion. Anything I added to my shopping cart would show up as a gift the next day.

Yet, when it came to physical intimacy, Richard kept himself covered in turtlenecks and long sleeves as if he wanted to shield every inch of his skin from me.

I reached for the obvious bulge straining against his pants. "Let me help you, honey."

Richard turned away with his back to me. After a long silence, he finally said, "Let's just sleep. I'm tired tonight."

In the darkness, I bit my lip and pressed myself against his back, feeling the hard planes of muscle and the heat radiating from his body.

"Don't you want me?"

Before my hand could move any further, Richard pushed me away. "Don't do this anymore."

The words came out cold before he fled into the bathroom, and my hopes crashed once again.

I could hear his ragged breathing through the door. Even with my eyes closed, I knew exactly what he was doing there.

It was like this almost every single night since our marriage.

I stared at the bathroom door. He had left it cracked open, just a sliver. Through that gap, I could see him watching me with burning eyes, his hand moving steadily.

The humiliation washed over me, and anger flared. "Richard, if this keeps up, I'll find another man!"

Richard froze. His eyes were ablaze with desire, but when he spoke, his voice carried a strange note of hurt. "Don't misunderstand. Just wait a little longer."

Furious, I pulled the blanket over my head. He stayed inside for a long time, showing such strong stamina, but it was completely wasted.

When he finally emerged, he stood helplessly beside the bed, staring at the lump beneath the covers. Eventually, his hand came to rest gently on top of the blanket.

Even through the layers, I could feel his palm. It was cold at first, then gradually warmed. Soon, it turned burning hot. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but nothing more happened.

I closed my eyes in disappointment.

Thinking I had fallen asleep, he carefully tucked the blanket around me.

Richard was always like this. Just when I convinced myself he did not love me, he would do something to make me wonder if I mattered to him.

I had no idea what Richard was waiting for.

…

I felt miserable the next day and met my best friend, Emily Jenner, at a new bar downtown.

I downed my drink, feeling bitter and resentful. "Why won't Richard touch me? Everyone says men can't control themselves. Wouldn't any normal man lose it around a woman like me?"

Emily slid a cocktail across the table. "Maybe Richard has his reasons?"

I racked my brain but could not think of a single good reason.

I gave a bitter laugh. "You know what? Last night, he was clearly turned on, but he still wouldn't touch me. If there's anything or anyone he can't forget, it's probably that woman from years ago—his first love."

I knew part of the story. Richard and his first love broke up over a misunderstanding years ago. She then left the country, and no one had heard from her since.

It was something Richard had never been able to let go of.

I used to believe that being by his side would help him move on, but now, it seemed I had lost completely.

Richard probably refused to touch me because he still loved her. Thinking about his coldness in bed made my chest tighten.

I put myself in his shoes. What if I were being forced to sleep with someone I did not love? The thought alone made my skin crawl.

He probably found the idea of touching me disgusting.

My mind went blank, and Emily looked at me with concern. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine. But I need to divorce Richard. I can't stay in a celibate marriage like this anymore!"

Since Richard's heart was not with me, I would leave. Plenty of men were interested in me, and I did not need him.

That night, I drank too much and accidentally ate mango, which I was allergic to. Red rashes broke out all over my skin.

I slept at Emily's place for a long time, and when I finally woke up, I realized my phone had died. I did not think much of it until I got home and saw Richard with bloodshot eyes. His hair was disheveled, and his clothes were wrinkled. He looked like he had not slept all night.

His voice came out raspy. "Where were you last night?"

Seeing his face only made me angrier. "Richard, let's get a divorce."

He did not respond, and his eyes locked on the red marks on my neck. The look in his eyes shifted from anger to something like hurt.

When he said nothing, I ignored him and headed upstairs.

Since his heart belonged to his first love, what was the point of keeping a man who did not love me? The sooner we split, the sooner we would both be free, and the sooner I could find my own happiness.

Since his heart was no longer mine, divorce would be the better option for both of us.

I had not dealt with an allergic reaction in so long, and I did not take any medicine either. By evening, my symptoms grew worse.

Gradually, I felt like I could not breathe. I tried to call for help, but no sound would come out.

Just as despair set in, Richard burst through the door. He called my name frantically and contacted his private doctor.

After the doctor treated me, Richard sat by my bedside with red-rimmed eyes. "You silly. Don't you know how to take care of yourself?"

I mumbled incoherently, "I don't need you to take care of me. Go take care of that person instead."

Richard froze, staring at me with those red eyes. His fists clenched and unclenched. However, when his gaze fell on my chapped lips, he could not help but sigh.

He wrapped me in the blanket and pulled me into his arms. "Who are you talking about?"

I wanted to say he knew perfectly well who, but I had no strength left in me. A thought suddenly occurred to me. Did Richard actually care about me?

Richard reached out to check my temperature. I looked up at him with watery eyes, my face flushed.

The moment he saw me like this, his breathing grew heavy. He quickly pulled his hand back, turning to flee to the bathroom again.

My hopeful heart sank once more.

Before long, he returned and quietly held me. He said in a soft voice, "Sleep, baby. You're not fully recovered yet. I'll stay by your side and watch over you."

I could feel that he was hard as it pressed against my back, but my allergic symptoms were too uncomfortable. I ended up falling into a deep sleep.

Richard took care of me all night, feeding me water from time to time and monitoring my condition closely. When I woke up the next day, I was still in his arms.

He had held me all night?

I noticed the unusual tension in his lower body and could not help but think about it again. He had been hard all night.

Such good equipment, yet it was completely wasted.

My resentment only grew. Even if I was going to leave, I should at least get something out of this marriage first.

I tested the waters. "Richard, I'll give you one more chance. Do you want to try again?"

Richard's breathing quickened behind me, but after waiting for what felt like forever, I heard his hoarse voice. "Valeria, it's not time yet. Can you wait a little longer for me? It's my problem. Don't overthink it."

I looked at Richard, who remained unmoved by me. I changed my clothes and turned to leave.

This marriage was definitely ending.

As I left, my hand accidentally brushed against Richard's. Warm skin met cool softness, and the next second, he grabbed my hand tightly.

Those sharp eyes that cut through boardrooms like a blade now looked soft and wet, almost puppy-like. Richard's robe hung open at the collar, revealing his perfectly sculpted muscles.

His broad back and wide shoulders looked reliable enough to lean on. With such an attractive body, any straight woman would feel her heart race.

I swallowed hard.

I felt him pressing against my hand with desperate need and thought he had changed his mind. However, after standing there waiting for a long time, he finally released my hand with a tremor.

He lowered his head, his voice tinged with hurt. "Come home early, okay?"

I turned and left.

What I did not know was that the moment the door closed, he turned and buried himself in the blankets. While he breathed in the lingering scent, his hand moved downward and he murmured my name, "Valeria..."

…

After that day, I decided in a fit of anger that Richard and I would sleep in separate rooms. I moved to the room next door, and Richard said nothing about it.

Yet, every time I fell asleep at night, I always felt like someone was holding me.

After noticing this pattern, I went to find Richard. "Richard, did someone break into our house at night?"

He was reviewing company contracts and looked up at me when he heard my words. "Did something go missing?"

I shook my head. "No, but I keep feeling like there's someone else in bed with me when I sleep at night."

The pen in his hand suddenly pierced through the paper.

Before I could say anything, he grabbed a fresh contract and said flatly, "Don't worry. I'll do a full inspection of the house. If you're still concerned, I can stay in your room all night."

I opened my mouth to speak. Glancing at the ruined contract he had tossed to the bottom of the pile, I said coldly, "That won't be necessary!"

I had already found a lawyer to draft our divorce agreement. Before long, I would divorce him. I would not need him to protect me anymore.

Richard kept his head lowered, and his voice was soft. "I just want to protect you."

However, protection was not what I wanted from him at all. I returned to my room in a huff, and my mind raced with thoughts until I fell asleep without realizing it.

While I was half asleep, I felt myself being held in someone's arms again. The embrace was warm, carrying a pleasant scent of cedar. The person's hands moved across my skin, leaving a burning sensation everywhere he touched.

I felt my lips being rubbed roughly, bitten, and invaded. Wet sounds filled the air as the man's burning breath made me gradually lose myself, my body surging with the waves of pleasure.

Immersed in that blissful world, I could not wake up for the longest time.

After struggling for a while, I finally opened my eyes and shouted angrily, "Who's there?! Don't you know breaking and entering is illegal?"

In the darkness, the person behind me froze, then quickly stood up and fled. I snorted softly and took my time getting dressed, not bothering to chase after him immediately.

I had prepared a backup plan the moment I realized someone had been breaking in. I had set up an alarm that would alert the police. By now, the police should already be waiting at the door.

When I finished getting dressed and came out, I discovered the responding officer was actually Richard's childhood friend, Ken Sotherby.

Before I even made it downstairs, I heard his voice.

"I was wondering who called the police. Did you finally lose control and scare your wife? You've been wanting it so badly but somehow managed to hold back for years."