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I raise my eyes to his, disgust churning in my belly.
“You don’t care about me at all,” I hiss. “You made that clear. Multiple times. On the phone. In the divorce proceedings. When you fucked my friend,” I spit at him.
Tim rolls his eyes, with a fervor that comes from some hidden well of audacity that only cheating men seem to possess. “Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot. You’re just a victim. That’s what she told you about me, right? Good luck, man. Enjoy the crazy train.”
My head whips toward Sunder as Tim addresses him. His expression remains calm, but I can sense the tension in his posture. He takes a step towards Tim, then stops. His voice is quiet. “Are you finished?”
Tim squares his shoulder, looking ridiculous the way he has to raise his chin to meet Sunder’s eyes. “What? You gonna punch me or something?”
It’s like a chihuahua barking at a wolf. Tim’s challenge is laughable, and I tense as I prepare for what is absolutely coming next.
There’s a blur of motion between them. I cringe as I hear the smacking sound of fist to face. Sunder moves so fast I barely see him strike. Tim stumbles back, looking down, blood trickling from his nose. He wipes it away, shaking his head, but Sunder speaks first.
“You’re panicking because she doesn’t care about you. You lost control over her, so the only way you know how to deal with that is to throw a tantrum to pull her back in. But that manipulation won’t work this time because you’re nothing to her.”
My heart is pounding, my breathing shallow. Sunder’s voice is so low I have to strain to hear it.
“She’s too good for you, and you know it. You were terrified she’d figure it out one day and drop you like the sack of shit you are. So, like a little boy, you decided to hurt her first so she couldn’t hurt you. But she has a real man now, so turn your little bitch ass around and leave us alone.”
Tim’s face contorts, his jaw clenching. “Too good for me? You should see the women I get with. You should see my fiancé. Mira’s just a whiny, fat gir-”
Sunder’s fist slams against his face again, sending him sprawling backward. Tim’s face looks like he put it up against a meat tenderizing machine. His cheek is already swelling, and he spits a mouthful of blood.
Briefly, I wonder if that stain will come out before the apartment company does the inspection. My lost deposit haunts me for all of ten seconds before I glance back at the two men in front of me.
“Fuck you,” Tim stammers as he scrambles to his feet, backing to the door. “You can both go to hell.”
As soon as Tim slams the door behind him, a slow trickle of tears falls down my cheeks. I bury my face in my hands as Bobble takes up his tried-and-true position, rubbing against my legs to soothe me.
Hard arms wrap around me as Sunder pulls me in against his chest. He whispers in my neck, “It’s ok.”
My vision blurs, and I can’t catch my breath. He holds me tighter. “He’s just an insecure human,” he says with disdain, as if calling Tim a human is the worst insult he can come up with.
A small laugh breaks through my tears. “I’m human too, Sunder.”
“Yeah, but you’remyhuman. You are of a different caliber entirely, my Mira.”
I blink through blurry tears up at him, my heart swelling as the soft endearment in his voice. “Don’t waste your energy on him.”
I pull back, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Honestly, it’s catharsis. I’m not crying over Tim. I’m… relieved. What you said. It was just really nice to have someone stand up for me. Thank you.”
I look up at him from the shelter of his arms. Towering over me, his eyes are soft as they trace every inch of my face. His thumb traces the curve of my earlobe, and a shiver runs through my body. His eyes flick to my lips.
“Mira,” he breathes softly. My breath catches in my throat as he leans in. I lift my chin as he inches closer. His hot breath surrounds me like the sensual caress of a lover.
But before our lips touch, he steps back.
Eyes downcast, he asks, “Are you hungry? We should get some food on the way to the hotel. How does Waffle House sound?”
I watch him leave, stunned.
My eyes water, and they dance from the bloodstain on my empty carpet to Bobble’s expectant gaze, back to where Sunder’s shoulders last darkened my door.
I take a deep breath.
Tim’s blood is on the carpet, a spray of vibrant red that makes me a little nauseous to look at.
Tim, I realize, has caused me plenty of pain. Physical. Mental. Spiritual. The fact that his blood is permanently etched into this place feels… right.
