“For what?” I ask.
“I am going back day after tomorrow,”Maasays. “And Margot is going on a trip with your father.”
“A trip? With my father?”
As far as I know, they haven’t been on a trip in years. So why now?
“Business trip,” Mom side-eyesMaa, and I am not quite satisfied with her answer, but I let it slide.
“Where’s Aisha?”
“Getting ready,” Mom says. “Eager to see your wife?”
“When am I not?” I say, quite shamelessly, and she chuckles.
I let them do whatever they were doing and made my way straight towards my bedroom. The only thing that keeps me going is her. I dread the dinner with Louis, but knowing Aisha will be there makes it ten times better.
“Aisha?” I call her name, and she comes out of the bathroom.
“Yes?” she says, and my jaw drops to the floor.
The red dress I gave to her one Valentine’s Day still hugs her the same way it did before. If not better. The slit on the dress reaching up to her thigh shows the sliver of her skin.
She has done very light makeup, but the matching red lipstick covering her lips is inviting.
“Reyansh?” She calls me out of my train of thoughts.
“Yes,” I say. “You look beautiful, Aisha. I have no words.”
She smiles, the one that reaches her eyes, and I feel my heart race in my chest.
“Thank you,” she says. “You look tired.”
“Oh, I am feeling all refreshed now. I will just freshen up slightly.”
She nods, taking her heels from the closet and sitting on the bed to put them on. And just because I am obsessed with her, I kneel down in front of her, taking the heels from her hands.
“Let me do it,” I say, and she looks at me surprised but doesn’t complain.
I wrap the straps of the heel around her calf before moving to the other foot. She keeps staring at me intently, and I wonder what is going on in her head.
“I am so lucky to have you, Aisha,” I say, and her face turns red—not because of makeup—but because my words have an effect on her.
“I know,” she says. “You tell me that every day.”
I smile, pulling her face towards me and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I hope I make you feel that every day too.”
* * *
The anticipation of what might happen at this dinner makes me awfully quiet, and Aisha looks lost in her head too.
“Aisha,” I say, and she looks at me finally. I love having her eyes on me so much. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” she says, a bit too quickly. “I am just tired. I feel like sleeping.”
“Do you want me to cancel?” I ask honestly, “It won’t be a problem.”
