“And because we need to stay away from windows, we’re going to have to figure out what parts of the house we’ll stay in during the storm.”
“Makes sense.”
“The bedrooms are off-limits, obviously. The windows are supertall there. And most of the first floor won’t work either. The only room that has no external exposure is the closet upstairs. The pantry and the bathrooms don’t have any windows either, but it’s not like we could sleep there comfortably—”
I freeze.
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
His eyebrows jump, and my cheeks warm. I guess I could have phrased that differently.
“We’ll put sleeping bags in the closet,” Nikhil says, exaggerating thesin “bags,” hissing like a snake.
My stomach twists. He seems to be just as adamant as I am about not sleeping together, which is good. Great, even. Perfect. Nice to know we’re on the same page.
“I think it’s really the only option we have,” he continues.
A picture of the closet pops into my head. The floor space is limited. Even with separate sleeping bags, the bags will be touching. And how thick can sleeping bag material be? I don’t remember. Ican’t remember the last time I slept in one. But I don’t think it’ll be thick enough to hide the outline of his body against mine.
The curve of his leg. His thighs, thick and firm. Those back muscles I accidentally glimpsed earlier.
No. Nope. This isn’t going to work. “I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom.”
“The guest bedroom,” he repeats flatly. “The one with that huge window facing the street.”
“Yes,” I snap. “Good to know you haven’t changed that part of the house at least.”
He lets out a sound of frustration, and I grit my teeth. I know that sound. It means he’s conceded the argument for now but will revisit it later.
It’s time to up my game. Time to be strategic.
Okay. So, a hurricane is bad. Bad news all around. But there’s a bit of a silver lining here. It’s not just that I’m trapped with Nikhil; Nikhil is now trapped withme.I can use this. Twist it to my advantage.
This hurricane is giving us time alone together. Time that I can use to get him to sign the divorce papers. No distractions. No outside world. I’ll wear him down. Pester him until he has no choice butto—
I jump. The phone I was so sure was dead has come back to life, vibrating loudly in my hand. The screen is still black, but I can hear some noise coming out of it. I lift it to my ear tentatively. “Hello?”
“Meena, thank god. I’ve been trying to reach you, but none of the calls were going through. I know what you said before, but everyone’s reporting that the storm’s going to hit Houston tonight. You need to get out of there. I was looking at flights and everything’s booked, but I’m going to call the firm’s travel agent next. They can usually swing something.”
Soon after we’d met, Shake had stopped working on the Hill. His ex-girlfriend had cheated on him, which would have been devastating enough on its own, but her infidelity hadn’t been a small, private indiscretion. She’d been sleeping with Shake’s boss. A high-level congressman. A high-levelmarriedcongressman.
Shake had needed a fresh start, so he’d gotten out of politics andjoined a classic white-shoe law firm that could not be more different from mine, as evidenced by the fact that his firm keeps a travel agent on retainer. The midsize, boutique public interest firm I work for could never afford to do that. “Okay,” I say, risking a glance at Nikhil.
He’s watching me, his eyes steely. Sharp. Like flint. As if the smallest movement might spark something. Set everything aflame.
I half turn away. I don’t know if he can hear everything on the other end of the conversation, but I’m hoping Shake’s voice doesn’t carry.
“My phone’s not really working though,” I tell Shake. “Not reliably. So, if you do book something I may not find out about it.”
I guess I could give him Nikhil’s number. I could tell him to call me there if he’s able to book a flight, except…I’m not ready to tell Nikhil about Shake yet. I’m not sure why, but the idea of it makes me a little nauseous. Though, do I really need to tell him about Shake at all? I’m hoping Shake will want to get back together once all of this is done, but I don’t know that it’ll happen for sure. Besides, I don’thaveto give Nikhil my reasons for the divorce. Actually, it’s probably better if I don’t. It’s better if he doesn’t find out why I need this divorce so badly.
No, telling Nikhil about Shake is not an option. I’ll stay. I’ll use this time to get the divorce, and then I’ll be done. A clean break. With Nikhil being none the wiser.
“Okay,” Shake responds. “But…are you going to be okay? Imean, besides the storm. Because he’s there, right? You’re going to be staying with him?”
My cheeks flare with heat, growing even hotter when I feel Nikhil’s gaze burning against the side of my face.
“I’ll be fine,” I say quickly. “Don’t worry about me.”
