Chapter 29
Reyansh Carter
There’s this thing about being in a relationship long enough, and that is that you learn each and every tic of your partner.
By now, I am attuned to every tic, every movement of Aisha’s.
Sometimes what she can’t say with words, I can hear by looking at her face, the way her eyes move, the way her breath hitches or falls, and the way her heart beats so loud you can hear it out loud.
Saying “I love you” yet again made my chest tighten. I knew she already knew, but speaking it aloud still carried the risk of rejection, the risk of her throwing it back at me—and that hurt was impossible to hide.
Just one conversation of us being raw and unfiltered with each other changed so much. I hope we keep doing that for as long as possible. Forever, if need be. I just need her close to me, that’s all.
So, when I said the three magical words to her again, this time in front of our mothers, I held my breath, awaiting her reaction, only for her to stand there, rooted in shock. And that wasn’t as bad as I thought.
I will keep saying the words to her over and over again for the rest of my life till I rewrite the meaning of them in her mind.
“Henry,” I ask as soon as I reach my office. “Is my cabin ready?”
“Yes,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you look like you’re in such a hurry?”
I glance at my watch—one hour since I left the house, and I already miss her. God, how could I ever live without her?
Her effect on me has been crazy. My obsession and attachment with her has always affected me in this way—which is why when I started building this firm, I slowly started detaching from her.
Not the best decision, but I wanted to give her the best life, where she didn’t have to worry about anything.
I wanted her to get whatever she wanted without ever having to look at the bill or think about what she should or shouldn’t do.
In my urge to give her everything I could and more, I forgot to give her the one and only thing that mattered to her. Love.
All she has ever asked for. Love and safety.
“I want to get back home fast,” I tell him, walking into my cabin.
Just like I wanted, the project files of our existing client and the projector are kept at their designated place. I like things in order. They make my mind feel at peace when all it has ever known is chaos.
The only chaos I am able to handle and welcome in my life wholeheartedly is my wife. She is the only exception to my every rule.
“Any special occasion?”
“Just my wife.”
* * *
As much as I love my work, I hate working with men who think they are superior to others.
When you are rich and famous and successful—all the things I have been already—you get selective about your energy. But using these three things to act like a pretentious asshole is disgusting and a major turn-off—even for a man like me.
And that is exactly the vibe of my current working client—Louis Maxwell. He owns a major real estate company across the UK, and while we have had major business working with him, I absolutely despise having one-on-one meetings with him. Only because his words reek with arrogance.
“Well, we like what you have presented, but how much will it work?” the fucker asks
I smiled, trying to keep my emotions in check. “We are the best in the business, Louis. Plus, you have worked with us before; you should have that trust in us.”
He chuckled. “I don’t trust anyone.”
That put me off. “We don’t work with people who don’t trust us, Mr. Maxwell.”
The tension between us is tough, making it difficult for us to breathe, but I cannot work with a prick like him for long.
My dad always said to work with people who you admire—and while I have admired the way Louis Maxwell scaled his business to millions within a few years, I cannot stand the attitude and arrogance that came with it.
He chuckled, and his assistant looked between us awkwardly.
“We like the terms and conditions, Mr. Carter,” he says, trying to fix the mess that his boss created.
“That’s great to hear,” Henry says on my behalf because I refuse to break eye contact with the fucker.
Louis’s eyes roam all over me before they land on the picture kept on my right side.
It is one of my favorite pictures of Aisha—the one I took when we spent a night together for the first time.
She looks carefree in this picture, her hair falling behind her shoulders in a perfect mess, her eyes closed as she smiled up at me.
I loved adoring Aisha. Correction—I love adoring her.
And one of my ways of showing that affection to her was by clicking pictures of her randomly.
She hated that in the beginning, my camera was an intrusion to her peace, but then she got comfortable with that.
The way his eyes stop on her tempts me to get out of my seat and throw him out of my office with my own bare hands.
“What is it, Louis?” I ask when he keeps ogling her picture without shame.
I keep my hands in a fist under the desk, but I am having a tough time maintaining my calm and composed demeanor.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, finally meeting my eyes, and my jaw clenches. “That’s your wife?”
“Yes, my wife,” I say, making sure he knows what that means. I don’t like people ogling at what’s mine.
“Beautiful,” he adds, and Henry gives me a side eye. “We have worked with you for so long; we would like to continue doing so for the foreseeable future.”
Thank God, this means he is going to leave soon.
“But before we finalize anything, I would like to invite you and your wife for dinner,” he adds, and I quirk an eyebrow.
No shit.
“Why?”
“To strengthen our business relations.”
The sound of it doesn’t sit right with me, and I narrow my eyes, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“I have no ill intentions, Reyansh.”
“Mr. Carter, if you will,” I correct.
His face changes automatically. An arrogant man doesn’t like to be corrected, least of all called out like that.
“Mr. Carter,” he corrects, his voice sharp now as he stands up. “Dinner with you and your wife. Your family, right?”
I look at Henry, and he gives me one of those looks that says, “Don’t lose your calm, and don’t buy his shit.”
“If my wife wants to, then we will,” I say cautiously. No way in hell do I wish to bring her in his vicinity. But business needs me to think rationally. Not at her discomfort, of course.
“You are whipped,” he comments, shaking my hand, and I give his hand a nice and tight squeeze.
“As I should be,” I add with a tight smile. “Nice meeting you again, Mr. Maxwell.”
* * *
Pissed off is an understatement of my mood that follows right after he leaves. I am furious. I have already broken a few cups of tea that were brought by Henry after he left, and then he just gave up on me and stopped bringing me my afternoon tea.
I have always been a possessive man, but with Aisha, that possessiveness has always been different.
It has bordered over toxic and healthy for a long time.
Maybe it is my insecurity that maybe she will find someone better than me.
Or that someone will take her away from me, which I know deep down is stupid.
But when you find the ray of sunshine after having lived in the darkness of your mind all your life, it is hard to act normal about it.
I scroll through the project folders on my Macbook when my phone rings, and I close my eyes to take in a deep, calming breath before I pick it up.
“Hello,” my voice comes out harsher than I intended, and I bite my tongue when I hear who’s on the other side.
“Reyansh?” Aisha’s sweet voice reaches my ears, instantly calming some of the tension forming inside my head.
“Yes, meri jaan,” the words slip out of my mouth like an instinct.
I so wish I had called her meri jaan in person just so I would get to witness the blush on her face.
“You there?” I ask, a smirk on my face.
“Yes,” she coughs. “Ah—Mom wanted to know how late you will be. She texted you a few times, but you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, I didn’t check my phone, but I will be back by twelve.”
“Okay. I will let her know.”
“Yes, that would be great.”
I think she will hang up on me now, and the disappointment fills in my chest rapidly when she stops to ask me.
“You sounded stressed when you picked up?” she asks, and I can sense the hesitance in her voice, and the fact that she pushed past it and asked me makes me a lot happier than I would have let her know in the moment.
“I was just…” I think about which word to go with. All that come to my mind are inappropriate. “Pissed. Yes, pissed. A client of mine is just straight obnoxious.”
“Why? What happened?”
“He just reeks of arrogance and attitude and money, and I can’t stand his behavior for more than five minutes. Unfortunately, he is also one of our oldest and biggest clients, so I can’t simply let go of him.”
She hums, and I feel the knots in my stomach loosen.
“That’s all? That’s why you are pissed?”
“No, that’s not the whole reason.”
She waits for me to go on, and I wonder if I should let her know that her husband is an over-possessive, jealous person.
“He wants me and you to have dinner with him,” I let on. She doesn’t need to know that I got jealous. Not yet, at least.
“Me?” she asks, “Why me?”
“Because you are my wife. He said, and I quote, “to strengthen our business relations.”
“Bullshit.”
“Exactly. I just don’t want to bring you in his vicinity. I can’t stand him, and I have a lot more patience than you.”
She scoffs, and I bite my lip to stop the smile coming on my face. I know I have probably struck a chord.
“I have patience. How do you think I put up with you?”
I laugh, and I feel infinitely better. “I can’t even disagree. Maybe I am just being over-dramatic. The dinner is not scheduled for a week yet, so you have all the time to decide if you want us to go. Plus, we have to accompany Aarav in that influencer event.”
“Yes, true. If it benefits your business, then there won’t be any harm in that. Plus, you will be there with me, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to be worried.”
Her words touch the deepest corners of my heart.
I love it more than I probably should. A blush rises on my cheeks, and I clear my throat to calm myself down.
If anyone walks in my office at the moment, and they see my face as red and smiling as it is at the moment, I will lose my grumpy reputation, and I like being called a grumpy boss in my office.
“You don’t. Especially when I am around. You never need to be worried about anything.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I know she feels just how I felt a minute ago.
“Yes. I will let you go now. I have work to do.”
“Yes, I will let you know once I am done with work and leaving for home.”
“Okay, bye. Have a non-pissed day ahead,” she says, and I chuckle.
“Bye. And Aisha?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”