It's been four weeks since Marinah arrived. We eat dinner together most nights and play an interesting game of cat and mouse. My half-grunt answers infuriate her. She's picked up the same habit when I ask her a question she doesn't want to answer, which means she's learning to play the political game.
On the nights I go without her company, Beast acts up strangely and before I know it, I'm having food for two delivered to my room. It's like he can't live with her or without her and his grumbling reminds me of a whiny baby. Tonight is one of those times.
A freshly showered, wet-haired Marinah, who is wearing jeans and a white tee, drags herself into my room and collapses in the chair. She's worn out from the training she's been putting in and that pleases me. I can actually go a step furt
