Chapter 32 Tula
TULA
Tony closed the front door behind them with a soft click, and suddenly they were alone in a house that was supposed to be theirs.
Supposed to be.
The words echoed in Tula's mind as she stood in the entryway, looking around at the open space that had been decorated with care by Ingrid.
It was nice. The furniture was comfortable looking without being ostentatious. The walls were painted in soft, warm colors. Through the windows, she could see both a front yard with its neatly trimmed flowerbeds and glimpses of a backyard beyond.
"It's not bad," Tony said, his voice overly bright in the quiet space. "I mean, it's not as luxurious as the harem, but it's above ground."
Tula agreed. "With real windows that show real sky. And it's not scorching hot or humid." She walked over to one of the windows, looking out at the lush greenery outside.
Well, lush was a relative term.
It wasn't the vivid green of a tropical island, and it looked planted and manicured rather than wild, but it was beautiful and soothing, and as Tony had said, the living spaces were above ground.
"The weather is perfect," she murmured. "It was actually a little chilly on the way here."
They were making small talk instead of addressing the elephant in the room because they were both cowards.
Tony joined her at the window. "It's paradise, really. When you think about it."
They stood there for a long moment, neither quite knowing what to do or say. The awkwardness stretching between them was like a live wire, and Tula fought the urge to flee.
"I should check out the kitchen," Tony said. "See what Amanda stocked for us. Maybe I can make us something for dinner?"
"Sure." Tula was grateful that he had found something to do and would get out of her hair. "I'm going to look at the bedroom. See what clothes Amanda ordered for me. I hope there are some dresses in there because I really detest these pants."
She didn't wait for his response, just headed down the short hallway toward the bedrooms. There were two doors, one on each side of the hall.
She chose the one on the right at random and found herself in a pleasant room with a large bed, a seating area, a walk-in closet, and a bath that she decided she would check out after she was done with the closet.
It was full of clothes, just as Amanda had promised, and everything was designed to accommodate pregnancy. Maternity jeans, stretchy pants, soft shirts, and comfortable dresses. Simple things, with no silk in sight.
Tula missed her comfortable silk gowns, but no one in the village wore such dresses, and she wanted to look modern and blend in. She would get used to these clothes.
Eventually.
She ran her hands over the fabrics, trying to feel grateful.
Trying to feel anything other than trapped.
She couldn't have said no. Couldn't have corrected Ingrid's assumption in front of everyone, couldn't have said that Tony and she weren't together anymore while her sister and Amanda, and all those friendly, welcoming people stood there waiting to celebrate their arrival.
It would have been cruel. Humiliating. Tony deserved better than that.
He was the father of her child. Whatever else was true, whatever had changed between them, that fact remained.
She owed him dignity. Owed him the courtesy of handling their separation privately rather than making a spectacle of it.
But standing here in this bedroom, in this house that everyone thought they'd share as a couple, Tula felt suffocated.
With a sigh, she left the closet and stepped into the attached bathroom. It was large, almost as large as the one she'd had in the harem, and the tub had jets. There was also a separate shower with a clear glass enclosure. Everything was gleaming and new.
She could draw a bath and buy herself an hour of privacy to think things through.
Turning on the faucet, Tula was just starting to undress when she smelled something heavenly.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she'd barely eaten on the plane because the food had been tasteless, and she'd been too nervous and emotional to do more than pick at it.
The bath could wait.
Tula turned off the water and followed the scent back to the kitchen.
Tony stood at the stove, moving with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. He'd found an apron somewhere and tied it around his waist. A pot of water boiled on one burner while he stirred something that smelled delicious in a pan on another.
"I was about to take a bath but was lured by this amazing smell. What are you making?"
"I found fresh pasta in the freezer," he said without looking up. "And canned tomatoes, fresh garlic, fresh basil—everything I need for a marinara. It'll be ready in a few minutes." He motioned at the barstools with the spatula. "Take a seat."
Tula pulled out a stool and sat at the counter.
The kitchen was open to the living area, separated only by a counter with barstools. It was designed for exactly this—one person cooking while another kept them company.
Intimate. Domestic.
She imagined couples enjoyed this, had seen it done in movies, but had never experienced anything of the sort herself. Her meals had been served by servants in the dining room for as long as she could remember.
Tula watched Tony add pasta to the boiling water, stir the sauce with well-practiced movements, taste, and adjust seasonings. He really did know his way around a kitchen.
Maybe she should keep him, a traitorous voice whispered in her mind. He was a known entity. Not a bad person. The father of her baby. If he was a Dormant and could turn immortal, couldn't she just make it work?
She tried to imagine it. Years stretching ahead, living in this house with Tony. Raising their son together. Playing at being a happy family, even though her heart wasn't in it. Watching him love her, but not really, while she felt nothing but growing irritation and resentment.
No. The answer came swift and certain. No, she couldn't do that to either of them.
She'd been growing more and more irritated with him lately, and yes, part of it was pregnancy hormones making her antsy and emotional.
But most of it was just Tony. Despite his extensive education and despite knowing a lot about many subjects, he was shallow.
He didn't feel deeply about anyone, including her, he didn't have strong opinions about anything, and he had no backbone.
He was never supposed to be the one, it had been a given, a fact they had both been aware of.
He'd always been the almost guy. Not bad enough to discard and take on another lover, especially given the alternatives, but he'd never been good enough to keep long term either, and not just because he was human.
Now that they were free, choosing to stay with someone out of obligation or convenience seemed like a cop-out. It would only make both their lives miserable.
"Here we go." Tony carried two plates to the counter. Pasta perfectly al dente, with sauce glistening with olive oil and flecked with fresh basil.
"This smells amazing," Tula said.
They ate in silence. The pasta was as good as it smelled, simple but perfectly executed.
Tula took another bite, then another, letting the flavors distract her from the conversation she knew she needed to have with Tony.
But she couldn't avoid it forever.
"About our living arrangements," she said finally, setting her fork down.
Tony tensed immediately, his shoulders going rigid. "Yeah?"
"What I said on the plane still stands." Tula tried to keep her voice gentle but firm. "I just didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone. It wouldn't have been fair to you."
Tony was quiet for a long moment, staring at his pasta. "So, what do we do now? Everyone thinks we're together."
"We don't need to rush anything," Tula said. "We can just sleep in separate rooms. When things quiet down and we are yesterday's news, I'll move out. Maybe to Raviki and Rolenna's house. They have that extra bedroom."
"That's ridiculous." He turned to face her. "We've been lovers for a very long time. Why separate bedrooms? We didn't get into a fight, and neither of us has cheated. Why punish ourselves?"
There was logic in what he was saying, but if they kept sleeping together, they would just stay together, and she'd already made up her mind that it wasn't a good idea.
"We need to draw the line somewhere. Think of it as getting slowly accustomed to not being lovers. We will just be roommates who happen to be having a baby together." Tula placed her hand over his. "We can make this work, Tony. We can be good parents without being a couple."
Tony's jaw worked, and she could see him struggling with emotions he knew she wouldn't want him to express.
"Is it about Esag?" he asked.
Tula jerked her hand back as if burned. "What?"
"Esag." Tony looked up, meeting her eyes. "Are you leaving me because of him?"
"There's nothing between me and Esag," Tula said. "And there never will be. I hate him for what he did to my sister."
But even as the words left her mouth, she knew they were lies. There was no heat in her voice, no real conviction behind the claim.
She was lying to Tony. Lying to herself.
"I'm not blind, Tula. I see how you look at him, and how he looks at you. Like..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Like you are the only person in the world who matters."
"That's not—" Tula started, then stopped. What could she say? That Tony was imagining things? That the connection she felt with Esag did not exist?
She wanted to deny it. Wanted to insist that her hatred for Esag, for what he'd done to Wonder, for the pain he'd caused her sister, was stronger than whatever complicated feelings had emerged from their psychic connection.
But she couldn't.
"I don't want anything to do with him," she said instead. "He broke my sister's heart. He's everything I've always hated—selfish, cowardly, and clueless. He was never willing to face a challenge head-on, and by trying to please everyone, he hurt the people he claimed to care about."
"But?" Tony prompted.
"But nothing. We're connected somehow, and I don't understand it."
He pushed his plate away. "I fell in love with Kaia when she was much too young for a guy my age to even notice her," he said.
"She was a prodigy, a kid outsmarting all the adults in the department.
I pretended that we were just friends, but I think she always knew and pretended not to notice because she wasn't interested. "
"Why are you telling me that?"
"Because Kaia was a Dormant. And then I was lured to the island and placed in a harem with immortal ladies with the explicit purpose of getting one or more pregnant."
"So?" She wasn't following his logic.
"So, there is a connection here. The universe is trying to tell me something."
"Well, yeah. We talked about the possibility that you might be a Dormant as well."
He shook his head. "There must be more. I just don't know what it is because I know you wouldn't want me even if I turned immortal."
She let out a breath. "We were not destined to be, Tony. Just accept it and move on. Your special someone is out there."
Tony nodded. "I'm going to take a walk. I need to clear my head. You should take that bath you were planning."
"Tony—"
"It's okay, Tula." He managed a watery smile. "I'm not angry with you. I'm just sad. And I need to process."
He took off the apron, threw it on the counter, and walked out the door.
Tula sat alone in the kitchen, staring at her half-eaten pasta, feeling wretched.
She'd hurt him. Again. Despite trying to be gentle, despite wanting to preserve his dignity, she'd still hurt him.
And the worst part?
She felt guilty because Tony was right. Her mind kept drifting to Esag, to those blue-green eyes and that sad smile and the way he'd looked at her like he understood things about her that she didn't understand herself.
"I hate him," she said aloud. "At least I'm supposed to."
But the words rang hollow, and Tula knew that hate wasn't what she felt when she thought about Esag.
It was something far more complicated and far more real than anything she'd ever felt for Tony or any other male.