Profile of Your Husband

“Let go of me!” Maeve hissed. “Let go!”

She shoved at his chest, legs flailing as Garrick kept walking. He didn’t respond, didn’t flinch. His grip never tightened, never loosened. He just moved—calm, steady.

But this wasn’t the hallway to her room.

She twisted again. “This isn’t my room! Where the hell are you taking me?”

He pushed open a door with his shoulder and walked inside. The room was dark