Tori
Chapter 29
Ihad always imagined that sex could bond two people, but I never realized it could feel like a drug. I spent the next few days on cloud nine, slowly coming down from the emotional ecstasy I’d felt in bed with Stefan the night of my ruined dinner. Things between us had never been better. We had dinner together almost every night, and he was beginning to open up to me—talking more and more about work and his day, or what he’d seen on the news—and at night we would burn up the sheets together. Sometimes I came home from school and he was tearing my clothes off before I’d even put my bags down, dragging me off for the same kind of hot, intense fucking as in the early days of our relationship. But other times it was sweet, so slow and satisfying that it made my heart ache.
I was completely, head-over-heels in love with my husband, and I was convinced that he felt the same way—or at least, was starting to. The thought made me so happy. This wouldn’t just be an arranged marriage that we were both anxious to get through. It would be a love match. The kind of marriage I’d always dreamed of having. The kind I’d secretly hoped for.
That morning I got a call from my father, who was making a last-minute trip to Chicago. It was the first time I’d seen him since helping him with his recovery over the summer.
“I’m going to be in town taking care of some business at my Chicago office. Does my favorite daughter have time to meet up for lunch?”
I laughed at his lame dad joke. “She might. Depends on where we’re going.”
“Playing hard ball, eh? I’ve taught you well. I’m thinking Russell’s on Bellevue.”
“In that case, I think she can pencil you in,” I teased. “Meet you around one, one-thirty?”
“Perfect. See you soon.”
We met at his favorite place, an upscale steakhouse with an old-world, Prohibition-era vibe and a view of Lake Michigan that was unparalleled.
I felt my anxiety kicking in as the hostess led me toward the plush leather booth where my father was sitting. It was the first time I’d seen my father since the night Stefan and I had consummated our relationship, and I couldn’t believe how much had changed since then.
As my father stood to greet me with a kiss on the cheek, I noticed how good he looked—a lot healthier than when I’d seen him last. A little thin still, but the color was back in his cheeks. It seemed his old appetite had returned as well.
“Does Michelle know you’re eating steak and drinking whiskey again?” I asked him after he’d ordered his usual.
“No,” he said. “And you’re not going to tell her. Or my doctor. It’s been nothing but plain oatmeal, boiled chicken, and broccoli for weeks. I can’t even use salt! You know what she brought me for dessert last night? A quarter cup ofraw almonds.” He shuddered melodramatically.
“She’s a monster,” I agreed, stifling a smirk.
“You don’t need to tell me that,” he said, but when his food arrived, I noticed that he pushed half of it to the far side of the plate.
I’d dressed to emphasize that I was a professional now, that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I was wearing a neutral sheath dress and a matching jacket that would have impressed even Michelle, my ears glinting with modest diamond studs. My hair was pulled back in a simple twist and even my makeup was subdued.
I had hoped my father would comment on my appearance in some way; say that he’d noticed my effort, or that I looked more grown up. But if he realized that I looked different, that I was carrying myself differently, he certainly hadn’t said anything.
A lot had changed for me, even if it wasn’t visible on the outside. I wondered what my father would say if I told him how I felt about Stefan. He’d probably think I was being naïve.
He’d always seemed to think that of me, just because I was curious by nature and tried to approach things with an open heart. But I was an adult now, making my own decisions, doing the work involved in building a mature, committed relationship, while also pursuing my education. My father had no say over my life anymore. My chest felt lighter just thinking about it.
I loved my father, but knowing that my life was mine alone made our lunch even more enjoyable. I didn’t worry about impressing him or pleasing him or saying the wrong thing.
“How’s school?” my father asked halfway through our meal.
“So amazing,” I said. “The program is a challenge, but I expected that. Just been hitting the books extra hard and camping out in the library. But I really love it. My psycholinguistics professor said—”
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Tori, but you need to make sure to prioritize your marriage,” he told me, stabbing his baked potato with his fork. “I can only imagine what Stefan’s going through with you gone all the time. I hope you two have help around the place. A man needs a clean house and a hot meal to come home to at night.”
My annoyance flared, and I silently reminded myself that my father came from a different generation.
I shrugged, forcing a casual tone. “He’s so busy at the office, he’s hardly ever around anyway. To be honest, I think it’s actually a good thing that we’re both working so hard.”
My father let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, you think so? You have no idea what it’s like to be in his shoes, having to listen to his wife babbling relentlessly about her own concerns after putting in ten, twelve hours on the job. Take it from me, it gets exhausting.”
“Stefan doesn’t seem to mind when I talk about school,” I said. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it when I got so excited I couldn’t stop myself from rattling on and on…probably because it meant I wasn’t asking him a lot of questions. And frankly, he seemed much more at ease when I was guiding the conversation instead of trying to persuade him to tell me about his work.
“He’s humoring you, I’m sure. You need to give him a chance to talk. It’s important that you keep the man happy,” my father reminded me.
