CHAPTER 19
*PRESENT*
“Cursing my shoulder”
Maya
I closed the front door with my keys. It was 2:00 am, way later than I had intended to get home if things hadn’t gone south with my stupid client.
I could have been out with my husband, enjoying some delicious meal or snuggled up in bed with him after losing ourselves in each other’s arms.
I sighed loudly.
The house was only shadows, the moonlight passing through the big windows of our living room. I took the stairs, hearing the loud noise of the wooden boards in a silent house.
A dim light was coming out of our bedroom. Curiosity got the best of me, and I followed the warm gleam.
I crossed the door, and saw that our bed was surrounded by electric candles. The ones that Aaron had found after I told him I didn’t like real candles, because I couldn’t relax, worrying too much about possible fires.
Our bathroom’s door was closed, but I could hear the water running.
My husband was taking a relaxing bath. The corners of my mouth rose softly.
I knocked on the door and waited for his answer.
“Come on in,”
my husband said from the other side of the door.
I opened it and found that the steam was covering everything. A relaxing jasmine scent signaled that he had used my favorite soap.
My husband was waiting for me, still dressed, and with a soft smile.
“Does a bath sound good?”
he asked, coming closer and kissing my temple. I nodded.
His beautiful blue eyes dipped to my lips and an electric current passed through my body. His dimples appeared.
He lowered his lips until they were so close to mine—close enough to touch if one of us moved, but he just smiled, feeling his lips curved on mine.
Before I could kiss him, he moved and kissed my cheek.
“I missed you,”
he said in a raspy voice. “So much,”
he declared with a kiss on my jawline.
I moaned.
“Aaron,”
was the only word my mind remembered, but my tone conveyed everything.
His lips left my skin, and I felt cold, except for where his hands were anchoring me. He pulled my hair and my head moved, my eyes looking at the ceiling.
His soft lips kissed my neck, and I closed my eyes, his hands moving until he grabbed my ass.
His tongue dipped, sucking on my pulse. My moan reverberated around the walls.
He chastely kissed my weak point and removed his lips from my skin. Waiting impatiently for what my husband would do, I peeked between my eyelashes.
My husband’s eyes were roaming over my body, his bulge pressing into my stomach, a clear indication he was enjoying this as much as I was.
His cheeks were red, his pupils conquering the light blue in his eyes.
His eyes found mine, and his mouth parted, waiting for a witty reply. I wetted my lips. His cheeks reddened, his hips pressing harder against my body.
My hands crumpled his shirt. I moved them, passing one through my husband’s hair while caressing his jawline with the other.
His eyes nearly closed. He bit his lips, and I caressed his skin until I felt my husband’s lips on my fingertips.
I pressed them, wanting him to release his lips. Once they were free, I put my hand against his cheeks and got on my tiptoes to kiss him.
They were always so soft, my tongue asking for him to open.
His hands passed through my legs, and my husband grabbed me, seating me in our sink.
I started to remove his shirt, lifting it over his head. I caressed his muscular back. I knew my husband’s body like the back of my hand—every dimple, freckle, all his secret spots.
I lowered my hand and touched him through his pants. He moaned the sexiest sound I had ever heard. My hands moved, wanting to remove every barrier between us.
My hands were about to pull him out when I felt his warm hands engulfing mine. He moved them, pinning them to my back while biting my lip.
I screamed. He opened his eyes, searching for the cause of my pain.
“What happened, my love?”
he asked, studying my face. I tried to kiss him, but he only gave me a peck.
“I’m fine. It was just my shoulder.”
He loosened his grip and turned around towards the bath.
He checked the water. I sighed.
“The water is perfect; it’ll help loosen up your muscles. I added your favorite soap to make bubbles,” he said.
“Aaron”—he looked up and gulped—“I know another thing that can make me loosen up,”
I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Maya, you need to take care of your shoulder. Need to give your body a break,”
he continued. “First the bath.”
He got closer and kissed my temple.
He left and I undressed. Once I sank into the bath, my muscles started to relax, and the constant pressure between my eyes lessened. The water was at the perfect temperature for me, way too hot for my husband, but I loved the scalding feeling on my skin.
I usually took showers, but I could get used to this. The only thing missing was my husband.
I sighed loudly, just in case my husband was nearby and could hear the disappointment in his wife’s voice.
My favorite flowers were white jasmines. Once I had some savings, I had bought a big batch of my favorite-scented signature shampoo and body soap.
It might have been because Aaron told me that he could recognize that I was close only from the sweet scent.
I submerged myself in the bath, and holding my breath, I tried to keep myself in the water as much as possible.
The noise was gone, my head was empty, and all my sore muscles felt ten times lighter.
I contemplated the bubbles and took extra care of all my weak points, massaging my head with the shampoo, caressing my shoulder and tense muscles with the body oil that I used.
Once out, I waited until all the water drained and imagined all my worries and problems following behind.
I brushed my hair and did my nighttime routine, trying to look more rested and glowy than the Maya that came home at 2:00 am after dealing with a work emergency.
This was what I had wanted to do before going on our date: get ready and pamper myself before going out with my Aaron. Except, now I was choosing a pair of PJs instead of a fancy dress.
Aaron wasn’t in our room.
“Aaron?”
I called from our bedroom’s door. There was no reply. Our house wasn’t that big; why wasn’t he replying?
All the stress came back, eliminating all the hard work that I had done to relax in the bathroom.
“Aaron!”
I screamed frantically. I took the stairs two at a time and kept searching for a light turned on, any hint of where he could be.
A soft hum and a dim, warm light seemed to be coming from our kitchen. I opened the door with more strength than intended and found my husband’s surprised eyes.
I looked at him, focusing on every detail. I started checking the list in my head.
Breathing.
Eyes open.
No sign of pain.
Little blush on his rosy cheeks.
Smart eyes.
No blood in sight.
No tears.
He is fine, I repeated to myself.
My husband came closer, touching my cheek softly, his eyes looking. Smart eyes finding something.
He moved his head to the side, and I followed his lead, the head towel falling to the ground. I didn’t move to grab it, too hypnotized with his sad smile. He was trying to cover it, but I had known him for eighteen years. I knew all his telltales.
“I was cooking some dinner,”
he said in a whisper.
I nodded.
“Are you hungry?”
he asked me.
I nodded again, my breath too uneven to talk.
He caressed my cheek softly, just one pass of his thumb.
I sat, and he put a steamy bowl of vegetable soup and a plate with garlic bread in front of me.
He started to eat next to me. I was sure he had had dinner already hours ago and was eating only to accompany me.
The hot broth burned my throat on the way down.
I continued eating.
There was no small talk.
Only the sound of us eating, and our old clock marking the seconds.
Once my bowl was empty, and my stomach full, Aaron’s hand held mine.
“Maya, I have been thinking…”
Alarms started to sound in my mind; this was not a good sign. “Do you want to stop going to the therapist?”
“I had the date planned, I swear. It was just my stupid client that decided that the day of our date was a good idea to write a public letter to his stranded wife. I promise to do better—”
“I know, baby,”
he said sadly, “it’s not for that. You’re very stressed, and I don’t want to be the cause of more.”
“You aren’t. I—”
I closed my eyes and touched my temples. “I want you to be happy. I don’t want you in pain or worried about our marriage. I want to give you what you deserve.”
“I know. I have what I want, Maya. I have you.”
He caressed my hand. “I just want you to know that it doesn’t matter if stuff comes up and you have to cancel or postpone things. If therapy is too much to put on your plate right now.”
“Aaron, I’m sorry that I have made you feel this way. I know our marriage is the priority, and I’m so upset that I lost sight of that.”
He was deep in thought, his eyes looking at our hands intertwined.
“I’ll call our therapist tomorrow and ask for the closest date available, alright?”
He nodded.
“I had a surprise for you,”
I started. The corners of my lips turned up, his following without even knowing what it was. “I have texted Cassie.”
My own happiness didn’t let me continue talking. His eyebrows raised, and his mouth opened. “We’re going to Málaga.”