In the months since you'd tied the knot with Lee, your body had gotten used to the warmth of his embracing you every night. The way his broad torso felt against your back, his arms wrapped against you, sometimes sneaking under your pyjamas if he was feeling handsy. His musky, almost smoky, scent was intoxicating, not in a suffocating sense but more a constant comfort filling the room. Your legs would end up a tangled mess by morning as Lee needed to touch as much of you as physically possible like you might disappear if he couldn't feel your skin. 

That's why it was such a shock when he moved your arm off his chest.

"Not tonight darling," he spoke softly, turning so his back met your eyes. Confusion swept over you, your arms dropping to your sides. 

"Okay, goodnight Lee," you whispered, trying to hide the hurt that threatened tears. 

It was the first bad night's sleep you'd had since moving in with him. You felt like a stranger in your own bed. Well, you suppose it was his bed really, you just crept in each night and shared it with him. There'd been no need to buy a new house, let alone a new bed when you married Lee: his house in Brewer Heights was more than sufficient for a newlywed couple. But now you realised it would always be Lee Bodecker's space that you were merely occupying. Perhaps all wives felt that way.

You woke before him and crept slowly to the bathroom to get ready for the day. His body was still on its side, turned away from where yours had lain. The slow rise and fall of his chest signified that he'd slept soundly the whole night. At least one of you had.

Moving as if on autopilot, you didn't notice the hob was too high until the spitting oil landed on the back of your right hand. The slight burn brought you back to your senses. Lee would be up soon, expecting his breakfast, and here you were still sulking about not cuddling for one night. Cursing under your breath, you plated up his eggs next to the toast. You'd been so happy when Lee brought the toaster home; you didn't have to use the oven to make breakfast anymore, it was always such a hassle. Placing his food at the head of the table, you went to wake him, slightly louder than how you'd crept out of the room.

He was now lying in the middle of your bed, arms stretched to your side, as if reaching for your absent body. You moved to his side and brushed your fingers through his hair. He really needed a haircut.

"Lee darling," you knew your voice would wake him, "Your breakfast is ready."

He stirred slightly, "Hmmm, five more minutes baby. Wanna cuddle some more." Maybe he'd forgotten what happened the previous night.

"It'll go cold Lee. I know you don't like reheated eggs."

"Okay, I'm getting up sweetheart," he really did open his eyes then, the blue was always mesmerising.

Breakfast was silent, both of you sipping your coffees when he'd wolfed down the eggs and toast. You wondered whether he'd just been really tired last night, or maybe too hot, and that's why he moved you off him. Whatever the reason, you hoped tonight would be different.

It wasn't.

In fact, Lee didn't come home until you were already in bed. The slam of the front door woke you from your daze. His faint footsteps towards the kitchen, the closing of the fridge and the slight hum of the microwave reassured you. At least he was eating something. You knew he regularly went without meals if you didn't prepare them. His job as the newly appointed sheriff didn't give him a lot of time to eat, let alone to meal prep.

It was almost half an hour later when Lee climbed into your bed, pulling the duvet more to his side. You took this as an opportunity.

"Lee?" you started, knowing he didn't like coming home late and might be more open to cuddling, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes darling, I'm okay," you could hear the fatigue in his voice, "Just go back to sleep."

He shifted to turn away from you but that wouldn't stop you. Snaking your arm over his chest to spoon him, you'd nearly rested your head on his shoulder blade when he spoke.

"I said I didn't want to cuddle," his voice cut through the silence of your shared bedroom, "Go to sleep Y/N."

He might as well have poured icy water over you. Since he'd said 'I do', Lee had never used your given name, it was always 'darling' or 'sweetheart' or 'baby'. Something was definitely different with him.

You tossed and turned that entire night, replaying the past two days in your head. Was it something you'd done? Nothing different had happened, had it? You'd made his breakfast, packed his lunch, and kissed him goodbye, as usual. You'd cleaned the house, gone grocery shopping, read your book. Nothing out of the ordinary. So why this sudden shift?

Life with Lee had always been easy. You'd met when you couldn't quite reach the cereal in Mrs Goodall's shop. He'd come up behind you, picking the sweet breakfast food off the shelf, smiling down, his blue eyes gazing into yours. You'd laughed and talked for hours, neither realising how long you spent standing in that shop. It took Mrs Goodall kicking you out, something about not looking at young love anymore, for Lee to ask you out. From then, you'd been inseparable. He was the perfect gentleman to you. The town warned you of the supposed danger of loving Lee and sure he was a little rough around the edges, but there were worse men out there. Some you'd encountered first-hand. You weren't even physically together until your wedding night and Lee still respected you, never forcing himself on you.

So maybe you should try respecting his wants more? If he didn't want to cuddle anymore, you wouldn't push it. You would want the same from him if you didn't want to touch you. Even if it hurt you, you would wait for him to start touching you again.

***

Months had passed. Months. Months without any physical contact between the two of you. And it was killing you.

Every day was the same. You'd wake up before him, make his breakfast, and sit in silence as you both ate. A quick goodbye as he rushed out the door. Swept, dusted and mopped the floors each morning, fixed yourself some lunch, and took a walk into town. Browsed the book, fabric or record store. Masked your grief behind a smile. 

Grief for the life you'd lost. The life filled with warmth, comfort and love. All of which stopped when Lee pulled away and slept on his side night after night. You didn't even feel like his wife anymore. Just a roommate. Or worse - a stranger.

Did he even notice? He must have realised the lack of love in your house. Unless... he'd found someone else? That would explain everything. He didn't want to touch you because he had her to touch. Maybe that's why he didn't come home some nights. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. You could imagine it now: her body would have gotten used to the warmth of his touch embracing her. The way his broad torso felt against her back, his arms wrapped against her, sometimes sneaking under her pyjamas if he was feeling handsy. Her legs would end up a tangled mess by morning as Lee needed to touch as much of her as physically possible like she might disappear if he couldn't feel her skin. She had replaced you.

That thought plagued your mind as you put down the mop. Why did you trap yourself in this self-deprecating routine if he was the one to change everything? The measly tinned soup or cheese sandwich in the refrigerator felt less appealing than usual. Maybe Lee saw you that way? You were the reheated dinner at the end of the day and she was the diner's chicken pot pie, fresh out of the oven.

Well, if he was going to change who he was sleeping with most nights, you'd change how you spent his money.

First a trip to that new department store, the one that sold the short dresses and had nearly caused a riot from the old, conservative women when it set up shop. Then to the diner for a burger and fries, maybe a milkshake if you were feeling extra rebellious. Finally, a trip to the sheriff's office, to talk to Flo and deliberately not talk to Lee.

Driving in Lee's Cadillac instead of walking, it only took a few minutes until you were browsing the mini skirts and dresses, colourful fabric and patterns covering the store. This was a far cry from the muted fabrics you usually bought to make your clothes. These would definitely turn more than a few heads as you walked down the street. A bright orange and pink one caught your eye, as two younger women entered the store.

"Have you seen the Sheriff lately Vivian?" the shorter, auburn one asked her companion, both of them heading to the shoe section.

"Oh yes Dorothy," the taller, brunette replied as she picked up a pair of white Gogo boots, "My, my has he filled out? That wife of his isn't doing his waistline any favours."

With the mention of you, confusion filled your mind but you had the common sense to hide behind the clothes rack.

"Don't know how someone like him managed to trap someone like her in that house," Dorothy looked at both of their new shoes in the mirror, "He wasn't exactly in the best shape when they first got together, but now..."

"I honestly feel sorry for her," Vivian spoke as she tried another pair, "Not only has he gotten worse to look at, but he's also a dirty cop. Why would anyone want to sleep with that?"

That comment shook you to your core. Pushing the store door open, you rushed to Lee's car, begging the tears to wait until you were inside. They felt sorry for you, not because Lee was cheating on you, but because he wasn't good enough for you. Did all the women of this town feel that way? Was Lee even cheating on you? Or was he just a 'dirty cop' like they'd said?

Tears did begin to trickle down your cheeks at the realisation that Lee may not be unfaithful. You'd blamed him on circumstantial evidence alone. But then why didn't he come home to you every night? Why did he push you away? Why had you not touched in months?

Smoothing your hands over the wheel, you pleaded for the waterworks to stop. Compose yourself Y/N. You are stronger than this. When you see Lee next, you need to tell him exactly what he's been doing. Stop speculating. All this could just be a huge misunderstanding. This miscommunication should not ruin what you and he had. It can all be fixed. But first, you need to eat.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, the pep talk making you feel better already, and checked your rear-view mirror. Lee's leather jacket was on the backseat. He must have forgotten it was in this car rather than the cruiser. You slipped it over your arms and began the short drive to the diner.

Shock seemed to be a pretty common emotion for you today as you stared through the diner window. Lee was there, digging into a chicken pot pie of all things. Had you not made him lunch this morning? Had you not packed it for him and placed it in the cruiser before he left? Had he simply forgotten this, even though you made his lunch every single day?

You rushed through the doors and were about to speak when the waitress beat you to it.

"Would you like your usual dessert Sheriff?" her voice humorous as she had already placed it in front of him.

"Of course doll," he took a swig of his coffee, "Have to have this every day!"

What.

Everyday.

Every. Day.

He came to the diner EVERY day.

She walked across the diner to deal with another customer and Lee tucked into the slice of cherry pie.

You didn't even register that you'd gone home until you were unlocking the door. Not bothering to lock it behind you, it slammed as you kicked your shoes off and rushed upstairs. The steady fall of tears staining your cheeks, you climbed into your shared bed, still wrapped in Lee's leather jacket. You mourned for the life you'd lost, the man you'd lost. You didn't even recognise who he'd become. The Lee you knew wouldn't hurt you like this.

A shout from downstairs woke you from your slumber. Flicking your eyes to the bedside table, you checked the time on the old antique clock. A wedding present from your aunt. It was only 8 o'clock. 

"Y/N, darling? Are you here?" you heard more clearly that time. Lee must have come home at an appropriate time for once. Staying silent, you laid back down on the pillow, wishing you'd just stayed asleep. Your body still expected him to come home every night. A small sob left your throat before you could muffle it.

He opened the bedroom door just as the trickle of tears turned to streams of sorrow running down the contours of your face.

"Sweetheart," he knelt next to where you lay, moving his hand to brush the hair from your eyes, "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"Why don't you love me Lee?" you choked, the pain of the last few months resulting in that question.

Now he was the one to look shocked.

"What do you mean darling?" his own eyes flickered, as if tears threatened to fill them, "I do love you. Why would I not love you?"

"You don't love me, Lee. You don't come home every night. You don't eat the lunch I pack for you every day. You won't even touch me anymore," it felt good to finally let the pent-up frustration out, "if you don't want me to be your wife, I'll leave. I can be packed by morning."

"What are you going on about Y/N, baby?" a tear really did leave his eye then. You'd made Lee Bodecker cry - the most feared lawman in all of Ross County, "I don't want you to leave. I never want you to leave."

"Then why Lee? Why?" you sat up to look down at him, "Why don't you come home? Why don't you eat the food I give you? Why don't you touch me?"

"Oh Y/N. I promise it's not because I don't love you," he sat down beside you, "I can explain everything but you have to listen to everything I tell you before you say anything."

You nodded and he gazed into your eyes.

"I'm not good enough for you," you opened your mouth to protest but he gave you a stern look. He continued, "I don't deserve you anymore."

"I drink too much, eat too much, work too much. When I don't come home, it's because I'm ashamed and don't want you to see the state I'm in," he placed his hand on yours, "I wish so much that I could be with you every night. But you won't want me anymore if you see me like that."

"I'm gonna guess you've seen me in the diner a few times. I do eat the food you give me. God it's the best I've ever tasted. Hell, I swear your cooking gets better every day sweetheart. I just sometimes get so hungry during the shift that I need more to eat. And once again, I'm ashamed," he looked down, "I don't want you to know I'm gaining weight. Or that my hunger is getting harder to fill. So I resort to eating the greasy diner food to get me through the day."

"And darling," shifting his gaze back to you, "I thought it was you who didn't want to touch me. You stopped asking so I assumed you'd realised my body had changed. Why would you want to cuddle up to a fat bastard when you'd married a skinny one?"

You kissed him before he could carry on that self-deprecating monologue. Climbing onto his lap, you placed your legs over his thighs, straddling the newly formed tummy that you hadn't even realised he'd grown. You leaned back, resting your hands on his broad chest, understanding that his insecurity and your miscommunication had led to months of torture for the both of you.

"Lee, there ain't nothing you could do to your body that would make me not want to touch it."

"But..."

"I stopped asking because I respected your boundaries. For months we cuddled every night, no questions asked, and then suddenly you asked me to stop. I pushed for a while but you were adamant. The only realisation that happened was me realising you wouldn't have pushed me if I was the one asking for space."

"So you don't mind the changes to my body?" his insecurity still getting the better of him.

"Of course I don't Lee," you leaned in to nip his doubling chin, "I just wished you'd talked about how you felt instead of pushing me away."

"I know. I'm sorry Y/N," he smoothed his rough hands over your shoulders, "Is this my jacket?"

"Found it on your backseat," you winked, moving back to kissing his neck.

"My backseat...?" he looked sceptically at you, "You drove the Cadillac? Was that payback or something darling?"

"Or something," you giggled, "Why'd you leave it in there anyway? It's been cold these past weeks."

"Huh," a smirk crossing his lips, "Funny story actually. It doesn't fit anymore and I haven't ordered a new one yet." He leaned in to kiss you this time, his plump lips grazing yours, "Besides, you look much better in it."

"I love you so much, Lee."

"I love you too sweetheart."

"Now how bout we make up for lost time," you teased, pushing him back onto the bed.

"That's something I can do darling."