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I let out a laugh. “You can't compare us to them and then you're the one who wanted a contract, not me.” I know Miriana did it for me when she knew about the inheritance my parents left, but I only wanted her.
“True, however she can avail her rights, and nothing takes away from my mind that she married him for that.”
“She would be capable of it but faking it for two years is a lot even for her.” As calculating as that would be, it would be insane.
“Can you do some digging? I could be off, but Dean doesn’t need any more stress.”
“Sure thing, no problem. We'll hash it out at home, okay?”
“Thanks, babe.”
After reassuring Miriana, I begin my research on this woman in Dean's life. I check phone records, police reports, anything that might give me an idea of who she really is. And what I discover sends me into a frenzy.
I call Andrew, an old friend and private detective. “I need your help,” I say, my voice strained as I squeeze the stress ball. I explain the situation and give him the assignment. Andrew is the best and I trust him.
When I get back home, Dean has already left for work. It's better this way because lying to him and pretending nothing happened would be really too hard, just as telling him the truth would be destructive.
The smell of bacon and scrambled eggs fills the air, a real treat for my taste buds. I walk over to Miriana, giving her neck a soft kiss, while grabbing two clean plates. “Did you get any sleep?” I ask her, worried.
She lets out a sigh. The towering chocolate marble cake on the counter gives her answer away before she even speaks. “Not really.” Baking is her escape, her way of finding peace. Not that I'm complaining; I'm so thankful for her, I'd do anything. But I wish she wouldn't let her empathy get the best of her so much. “We'll get through this too, babe.”
“I know.” She seems distracted as she turns off the stove and carefully starts dishing out the food. “Could you grab the Parmesan from the fridge?”
I smile, gently stroking her hair, and as I go to the fridge, I spot a pitcher of fresh orange juice. “Looks like you're spoiling me,” I tease, handing her the cheese.
She gives back a warm smile, sprinkling Parmesan on my eggs. “I'm lucky to have you, Kyle, so spoiling you is the least I can do.”
My heart fills with love as I pull her into a hug, kissing her gently. With a playful but firm gesture, I lead her to the table, “Now sit, I'll bring over the breakfast.”
She sits without arguing, and we start to eat together. “How was work last night?”
“Pretty calm,” I answer, pouring some juice. My worry is obvious, and she picks up on it immediately.
“You shouldn't feel guilty, Kyle,” she says, reaching out to touch my hand. “We've done all we can; now it's his turn to make a move.”
I smile, moved by her understanding. “It's kind of amazing how well you read me.”
“Isn't that what you do too?” She flashes a playful smile.
After we finish cleaning the kitchen together, I scoop Miri up over my shoulder, making her giggle. I carry her upstairs, not stopping until we're in the bathroom despite her playful demands to be put down. She smirks as she steps back and turns on the shower water. Coming back to me, she slowly undoes the buttons of my shirt with her delicate fingers, continuing until I'm completely undressed.
Once we're in the shower, she picks up the body wash and starts washing me, her gentle hands on my tired body reviving all my senses, bringing me back to life. After covering me in enough suds to make a bubble suit, I pull her into a deep kiss, wrapping her in my arms and pulling her under the shower's spray with me. It's a moment of tranquility, a breath I need to calm down and feel at home. Because she is my whole world. The water starts to cool on our backs, and I reach out to shut it off. Time and everything else fades away when I'm with her, but that's one of the things I love about us. She makes the rest of the world disappear, focusing everything on us. “I love you,” I tell her. The smile she gives me could melt the polar ice caps. “I love you more,” she replies. I grab a towel and wrap it around her, but she takes it from me and starts drying me off. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to, but I know this is her way of showing her love. When she's finished, I grab another towel and drape it over her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “I'll dry your hair,” I whisper. She nods, wrapping her arms around me in a hug she loves and deserves. After getting dressed and braiding her hair, we head to the bedroom and cuddle up on the bed.
“What did you find?” she asks softly.
“I'm not sure yet,” I respond. I can't share my suspicions with her, not until I have all the evidence I need.
* * *
The morning sun floods our home. As I head downstairs to hit the gym, I catch Miri, broom and dust cloth in hand, dancing in our spacious living room. It's a captivating sight, her body swaying gracefully as she performs domestic duties with a radiant smile that illuminates the room. I instantly ditch my gym plan, drop my bag, and approach hugging her from behind.
“Kyle,” she giggles as the dust cloth slips from her grasp.
“I love these shorts,” I murmur, holding her hips as I plant a soft kiss on her neck. Her laughter, melodic and contagious, fills the space.
“I know,” she steps away, grinning, “but I've got to finish cleaning first.”
Miri has always taken care of the housework, and I realize I've taken this for granted.
