Is she okay?she mouths to me.
I nod in response and focus back on the conversation. Mom proceeds to tell me all about the fun activities that she, Dad, and Avery’s mother did with all of the group’s kids at the biodome today, and I share our day’s highlights in response.
Only when I hang up do I realize Rachel’s no longer in the room.
I rush outside, and there she is, in her pajamas, leaning against the small balcony in the freezing air.
“What are you doing out here? Your hair is going to freeze,” I tell her.
“I needed some air.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Really?” She pivots to me, and that’s when I see the anger in her eyes. “I have to spell it out for you, Karan?”
I’ve never been this confused in my life.
“Apparently, I do.” Rachel takes a breath through her nose. “We were just having a conversation. You and me. Then, your mom calls, and I understand why you’d pick up; she’s sick, and she’s got our kids, so there could be an emergency, right?”
She laughs without humour. “Only, there is no emergency, and she’s only calling to chat, and that takes precedence over our conversation. Because fuck me, right?”
“Where is this coming from?” I pass a hand through my hair in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t want to be rude and hang up…”
“Then why don’t you go and join her, then?”
My chest tightens, and all of a sudden, the past months’ exhaustion catches up to me. I thought this would be a nice moment to reconnect with Rachel. But evidently, she needs space. Or a fight.
And I’m too tired to fight.
“Maybe I will,” I reply.
Her jaw ticks. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
Despite the cold, Rachel stays on the balcony while I pack my stuff.
This is fine. She’s allowed to want space. Whatever this is, I’m sure she’ll feel better when we’re both back home.
I swallow my pride and leave the hotel room without a second thought.
Chapter 30
Karan
Rachel is a sight to behold on the couch. Against the sound of the crackling fire and the muffled quiet of winter, she’s completely blissed out for the first time in ages.
And my stomach fills with butterflies at the knowledge that I’m the one responsible.
After we finished our soups and brushed our teeth earlier, I helped Rachel get cozy on the couch by laying a blanket over her and folding the end of it over and under her feet, the way she likes it. I brought her the paperback she packed for the trip, and while she started to immerse herself in it, I brewed her a cup of chamomile tea and started a fire in the fire stove near the couch.
Through the window, a soft snowfall made up of thick, fluffy snowflakes that float through the air like pixie dust reflect the moon’s gentle glow.
It’s a good thing she was too tired to fight, because there was no way I was going to let her do the dishes, or anything else for that matter. I meant what I said about tonight being all about her. Once I’m done with the dishes, I’m thinking of giving her a nice foot massage, then, if she’s receptive to it, I long to taste every inch of her again.
But first, I need to take care of myself.
Resisting Rachel’s advances earlier took all of my willpower. Seeing her come undone against my tongue nearly destroyed me right on the spot, especially since it’s been so many months since we’ve been together in this way.
