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“I finished work early and thought I’d pick you up from Divya’s,” he said sweetly.
Dropping my phone, I went to welcome him, asking them both to stay longer.
Lakshmi was a talker, while her husband was quiet and hung more in the background. His wife handled the conversations and he the intonations by popping in a remark once in a while. They made an odd but interesting pair. I imagined that Antonio and I might be the same.
Lakshmi’s description of India wrapped me in a warm blanket while I enjoyed my second cup of chai. I could almost believe I was already there.
“You see, beti, you should visit India. You can then see it through your own eyes and understand what your father’s experience was living there.”
“Divya.” I was startled, nearly spilling my tea on me, at the sound of Antonio’s warm voice floating down the hallway.
He marched into the room a second later, coming to an abrupt stop when he saw I wasn't alone. His brows drew into a frown, displeasure flowing off him at the unexpected visitors.
Idiot. What was I doing, acting like this was my house and inviting people over?
Should I have warned him they were visiting? But he wasn’t home, and we were in the midst of a fight…. What was he doing here in the middle of the day then? I felt heady, like the first few weeks of our marriage, when he would just pop home to plant himself inside me.
Heat crawled up my neck even as I shrugged that memory away. I sprang up and nervously laced my fingers. “Antonio, you remember Lakshmi. She made my wedding dress…” Shit. I wanted to sound nonchalant. Instead, my voice was breaking on the edges like water on the dunes. Grabbing onto his arm, I directed him towards the couple. “And this is her husband, Ramesh. I invited them over for a coffee.” But ended up making chai and making your whole house reek.
His arm flexed below my hand, sending need through my veins. When I tried to withdraw mine, he held onto it with one hand while greeting the couple with his other, all fake-friendly politeness now.
“Sorry for the interruption. I just had to discuss something urgent with my wife.” His eyes held a fire when they trained on me. “Can you excuse us for a minute?” he asked but didn’t wait for their response before he pulled me out of the room.
“What did you —”
“Not yet….” He pushed me into his office and slammed the door shut behind us.
All the air in there must have snuck out because the room was hot. Unease sent goosebumps up my arms. Was he so mad that I had invited people over without informing him? But he didn’t look mad.
I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, though. I moved away to his table. An agitation pulsed in him as he stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet.
“Well…?” he encouraged me.
“I should have obviously let you know I was having visitors. It’s your house, of course. I thought you wouldn’t mind. That’s why I—”
“Mia Cara, I don’t give a damn who you invite. You are my wife. You can invite whoever you want as long as they’re screened, and they have been.”
Tilting my head up to meet his gaze, I watched him, confused. “Then what are you talking about?”
“Your message?” he rasped.
“My mess… oh!” Realisation dawned on me. “I didn’t realise I had sent that,” I said guiltily.
“Doesn’t matter.” He closed the distance between us, and I suddenly found myself between the desk and a hard place. “What were you thinking?”
The day I first met him here flooded through my mind. All his books. His sex books.
“I was just…” I sighed, trying to save my eyes from the fire in his. “I am tired of all of this…” I waved my hands to include the space, “I thought…” I stopped short as his face darkened, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Anyone with half a mind wouldn’t complete my thought.
“You thought what? Spit it out, whatever it is you are mincing in your head,” he hissed.
I clutched the desk with both my hands. Warm walnut and leather. “I thought… maybe….” His hands came up to grip my chin. “We can call a truce?” I finished weakly, my eyes fixed on his.
He released a puff of air as if he had expected me to say something else.
A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he rested his forehead on mine. “A truce, huh?”
“Well, yes, unless you don’t—”
