Redhawk Caldera I thought I'd have it worked out and I'd be making plenty

And like an acorn tumbling from the trembling branch of an oak, the question dropped and hit the ground, but with the weight of steel hitting concrete. He'd convinced himself that if she hadn't pressed hin for details by this point, that maybe they were past the point where she would ask. He'd given her what she wanted - a stable relationship, a promise he would stay, a father for her son- but now she fished for more. And to be fair, she had a right as a wife to yearn for more from her husband than mere presence. 

The fur along his nape lifted and he froze, his breath seizing in his chest the moment she mentioned his need for space. She was asking him why he wouldn't touch her, and why her touch- any touch, for that matter- made him recoil. 

Perhaps if she'd been able to see his scars, she might not have asked. After all, her frame of reference for his current state ws likely centered around how he'd felt when she'd dragged him out of the lake, and even then he'd been soaking wet. He hadn't given her the chance to see him through touch, either, because he couldn't stand it. 

His head felt light- he remembered to breathe, and tried to keep himself from gasping, spreading his breaths apart a bit. The truth caught in his throat, causing him to press his tongue fiercely against the roof of his mouth and grit his teeth together so hard he heard a low thrumming from the muscles in his temple. He coughed, to force a bit of air out so he might sip a bit back in. 

The truth choked him. And he wanted to hold his breath until this whole situation went away, maybe turn back time so he could have started a conversation first and avoided this question altogether. He couldn't bolt- there was nowhere to run. She likely sensed it, but she'd struck a nerve. 

"It's...It's nothing you've done. It's not you at all," He said, his words slightly rushed, hoping that at least that might reassure her that he wasn't avoiding her in particular.  "But it's...I can't..." The soft click of teeth working together, dry lips that wouldn't meet and the hushed whisper of vocal chords that refused to sing. He shrugged sensely, several times, unable to beckon another excuse. His cheeks flushed warm, and with this spotlight now aimed directly at his trauma, he tensed, and pulled away from her, into a shuddering crouch, prepared to flinch and pull away more if necessary. For the time being, he stared at the ground, hard, hoping she'd drop it and leave him be.