He fixed the damn copier.
Apparently, his touch is like fairy dust. Everything turns pretty and functioning.
All my devious plans to make his life just a bit hellish in the last two weeks have been met with sinful defeat. I can’t even fire him because he is actually pretty good at being my assistant. Okay, I’m lying. He’s better than good. He’s perfect.
Just having him take most of my day-to-day burdens has made my life a whole lot smoother. The first week itself, he organized all my files, set up my website that I had almost given up on, and sorted out my calendar so I don’t over exert myself. If I thought he would find this position beneath him, he proved me wrong.
I hate how easily he has made himself at home in my life again.
Everywhere I turn, he is there.
Ever since his return, I’ve not worked even a minute late, which hasn’t gone unnoticed by Shammi. And let me tell you, he hasn’t missed anything.
Like how Dash and I arrive at the office together, even if in separate cars.
That I stare and drool over him when he isn’t looking.
Or the way Dash is constantly and protectively by my side like my personal shadow.
Questions swirl in Shammi’s perceptive eyes and I know he’s waiting for the perfect moment to bombard me with them. And that’s tonight at dinner at our favorite restaurant. I can’t cancel because he will know something is up. I also desperately need someone to talk to because I’m losing my mind.
My head and heart are at war.
Ever since my last talk with Dash, he has been patient like a saint—a quality I didn’t expect from him. He’s still possessive and protective in the little things he does as he takes care of me. Like nothing has changed between us at all. But I notice small changes that are bringing my guard down around him.
When I was married to him, there was a mysterious air cloaking him. An invisible wall buried deep beneath his other layers. A burden he seemed to carry. However, they don’t exist anymore.
There’s a lightness around him.
Each night, he asks me out for dinner or tempts me with a horror movie night at his place just to have me spend time with him after work. But I say no every time. My rejection, never crushing his determination to try again.
I had convinced myself I had cut him out of my heart but the truth is, he never left. Not for one lingering second. Whenever I stare at him too long, a tiny voice inside me murmurs…
Can I trust him?
My heart says yes, while my mind screams no. A tug-of-war is ensuing and I don’t know which voice to listen to.
A high-pitched laugh pulls me from my musings and I scowl because I know that sound. It’s my super-flirty and very married client, Neeta. When her annoyingly screeching laugh that she believes to be sexy bleeds into my ears again, I rise from my desk and peer through the window in my office.
Red-hot jealousy flares.
She stands in a skimpy dress that barely holds her breasts, which she is currently thrusting into Dash’s face—or at least trying to—while resting her greedy paws on his arm. Seriously? Why is she here? I already finished designing her guest house a couple of days back.
And Dash—why isn’t he taking her hand off him?
Who cares? We’re not together. He can flirt with whoever he wants. With that thought, I push back from the window. My resolve only lasts for a second before I’m turning back and yanking open my door. At the loud thump, the woman startles and drops her hand before reluctantly looking at me. Annoyance creeps into her plastic face at the interruption.
I give a saccharine smile. “Neeta, I didn’t know we had an appointment.”
“Oh no. We don’t,” she replies, flicking her wrist like she’s the goddamn queen or standing at a beauty contest. “I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought of coming by to say hi.”
“How nice. How is Mr. Seth?”
Her smile falls when I blatantly ask about her husband. I feel Dash’s amused attention on me, which I ignore. I’m not jealous. Just wouldn’t want him to make a mistake by sleeping with a married woman.
All lies, Bianca, my mind taunts.
She clears her throat. “He is good. Actually, I’m getting late. It was good to see you, Bianca.” Her lecherous gaze drools over Dash desperately and she drops her voice to a purr. “Dash. Hope to see you soon.”
The second her suffocating perfume vanishes, Dash’s laser focus lands on me and they narrow in warning when I try to sulk back to my office.
“What was that, kitten?”
“What?” I nonchalantly reply. “I just came to say hi.”
“So you weren’t jealous a second ago?”
I huff a laugh and roll my eyes. “Of course not. I have no reason to be.”
“Really?” he taunts.
“Yes,” I snap. “You can fuck whoever you want. Just leave my clients alone.”
“It’s a good thing I only have eyes on the boss.”
His seductive and dark voice turns my nipples into hard peaks, making his attention zoom in on them. Can he tell that his proximity leaves me so turned on, that each night I have to overwork my vibrator just to fall asleep? That only thoughts of him, the memory of him growling filthy orders in my ear and the way his cock would stretch my pussy, can make me orgasm?
“Stop looking at me like that because I can only be patient for so long, kitten.” His low and threatening growl pushes through the cloud of lust.
“I am not,” I deny, and the mocking look he gives has me blurting, “and besides, I have a date tonight.”
His nostrils flare, pupils turning dark with possessive intensity, sending chills up my spine.
Fuck. I think I just poked the bear.
Still, I hold his stare defiantly.
“You’re lying.”
“No. Did you think I was going to sit around with a broken heart again?”
“Is this a test, kitten?” He’s on me before I can run. Firm fingers tilt my chin and his lips ghost over mine. I tremble. “Because I will fail. Did you forget what happened the last time?”
“I’m single now, Dash. I can go on a date if I damn well please.”
His fingers squeeze my chin, making my lips part and my pussy wet. I need his lips on mine. Including his drugging kiss. Yet he doesn’t bridge the tiny distance between us.
“Tell me one thing and I won’t stop you from going on your little date.”
“What?”
“Tell me you don’t love me anymore.”
My heart stammers against my rib cage while he waits. “I haven’t forgiven you.”
“That’s not what I asked,” he says, undeterred. And asks again, “Do you love me or not, kitten?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Yes or no?”
My hands ball into fists, unable to push him again. Because being in his arms is like coming home. I hesitate because, damn it, I’m unable to say no because it physically hurts me knowing it’d be the biggest lie I’ll ever tell. I realize a little too late that I’m clutching the pendant hidden beneath my top when his attention lands on it like a hunter.
I instantly drop my hand while my heart races.
“Why are you always wearing it, kitten?” he demands, voice low.
“It’s nothing.”
“Show me.”
“No.” Panic swells in my chest while my pulse pounds rapidly.
His other hand lashes out, wrapping his fingers around the chain. I fight him off but he’s stronger and he tugs it from my neckline in one swift move. My body goes absolutely still and I close my eyes.
I hear his rough exhale before he whispers hauntingly, “You kept it.”
I shut my eyelids tighter and shake my head slowly. His fingers, which were curled around my jaw, move to cup my cheek and his thumb traces it softly. “Look at me.”
He saw it. How could I be so reckless?
“Please, kitten.”
Trapped under him, I reluctantly obey his low command but don’t dare meet his stormy eyes. He clutches the small heart-shaped key in his palm that I couldn’t throw away. Instead, I wore it around my neck daily, holding on to a piece of him like a lovesick fool.
Suddenly, his fingers disappear as he steps back and a smile graces his lips, turning his face lethally handsome. Like he found his answer.
“Don’t let me catch you on a date, kitten,” he warns before he leaves.
***
Technically, I’m not going on a date. Just going on a simple dinner with my only friend.
But maybe I should’ve alluded to that fact. Or maybe I’m secretly craving to be chased. To break the control he’s suddenly practicing like a preacher.
Maybe I’m just testing to see if there’s any power behind his warning.
What I can’t decide is the reason why I’m pushing him tonight. Is it because I want him back or to use his actions as an excuse to kick him out of my life, which has suddenly become colorful ever since he came back in it?
His domineering command just called out to my defiant side and I decided I was going to let him simmer in jealousy. It’s not like he can find me, since he doesn’t know where I’m going or with whom.
I don’t know what my non-answer told him nor do I crave to know.
When I arrive at the family-owned restaurant, Shammi is already waiting for me at our usual table in the back and gives a wave upon seeing me. I plump down across from him and just as I was afraid, he bombards me with an interrogation.
“What does that boy mean to you, kid?”
I go for acting innocent. “What boy?”
“You trying to fool me?”
“He’s my ex-husband. I mean, ex-fake husband.” Shammi quirks one wrinkled eyebrow in equal parts curiosity and amusement. I sigh loudly. “It’s complicated and a long story that ends with my heart being broken.”
“He’s here to win you back.”
“He says he’ll wait as long as he has to,” I share, and then nervously ask, “he doesn’t mean it, right? Nobody waits for long and everyone eventually moves on.”
Shammi’s expression softens before he quietly probes, “Tell me everything first.”
Even though it’s painful, I tell Shammi the whole story from the very beginning and once I begin, the words and all the emotions I held inside come pouring out like a river. All the while, he quietly listens without interrupting, no expression giving away his inner thoughts. When I finish, he’s quiet for a long time and when he speaks, it’s not what I expect to hear.
“Did I ever tell you how I met my wife?”
I frown and sit back. I only know they were married for a short time and she passed away a few years ago. “No. You haven’t.”
“The first time I met her was before my very first tour in the army. She studied in an all-girls college across from my training base and both of us had sneaked out one night with our respective friends. Our groups collided at a bonfire party and it was love at first sight. I know you kids these days don’t believe in it but it happens and it exists for a few lucky ones. Sometimes, two people’s souls click and they are bound forever. My wife was that person for me and it was the same for her. We spent that whole night talking and laughing and learning everything about each other.” His voice drips with something more powerful than love. The soulmate kind of love. I listen attentively as he continues.
“When morning came, I had to return to my base, but I knew I needed to see her again and that she was the one. But cellphones didn’t exist like they do now and I couldn’t just ask for her number. Letters were our only mode of communication. We promised we were going to make it work and for months, we did until it was time for my first tour. We were too young to get married and I didn’t have any money in my name back then. So, of course, I couldn’t ask her parents for her hand in marriage. I promised I would do it once I returned.
“In the beginning, we exchanged letters, the one thing that kept me going through the toughest times, but one day, they went unanswered. I was devastated and when I came back, I found out she had died and that her parents had moved.”
“What?” I ask, aghast.
He gives a shaky smile, tears stinging in his eyes, but he pushes through. “She wasn’t, of course, but that’s what her family wanted me to believe and they had told her vice versa. They didn’t want her marrying a poor man, so they lied. But when two people are meant to be, they find their way back to each other, and we did, twenty-five years later at a crowded restaurant. It was her voice and soulful eyes that I recognized her by. The moment our gazes clashed, I knew she hadn’t forgotten me either. At first, I thought I had died and was dreaming as we stood still. I never cried, not even when I found out I lost her, but that day, I wept. It was such a surreal moment. When we talked, it was like no time had passed but the trauma we went through ran deep. I had never married while she was divorced with a son. Since then, we have been inseparable. She confronted her family, who still didn’t accept us, but I wasn’t letting her go again and I married her the next day.”
My cheeks are soaked with tears as I hear his heartbreaking story. I can’t imagine the agony he’s been through. What if he never met her again?
The mere thought of Dash being ripped away, gone forever from my life, has my throat closing and darkness swarming my vision. The ache in my chest is so terrifying and vivid that I feel like I’ll pass out.
I suddenly understand why Shammi told me this as I meet his own glistening eyes. Giving me a small smile, he grabs my hand with his wrinkled and warm ones.
“Life is too short to live in the past, sweet Bianca,” he says. “Everyone makes mistakes and, yes, that boy made the worst by lying to you, even if he did so because in his broken way he loved you. It is inexcusable. But you have to ask yourself, is it worth punishing him for it for the rest of your life when you could be spending it happily living together? Because that boy will spend his whole life for another chance, taking every punishment you give him. You are his soulmate and I know this because he looks at you like I did at my wife.”
“I’m scared.” My voice is small.
He caresses my hand and squeezes. “That’s love, kid. It is scary, exhilarating, and magical once you fall. It’s also the greatest gift. Yours is waiting with his arms wide open. Be brave to take the jump.”
Shammi lets my hand go just as I feel him behind me.
