Chapter 31
Rachel
Karan spends the rest of our shower in a daze, which, if I had to guess, would be my fault. I’m no stranger to giving my husband blowjobs, but what I let him do to me tonight was new.
And it’s obvious that he very much loved it.
Hearing him moan with pleasure, and feeling the tremors in his body, gave me a high that I haven’t had in a very long time. I’m not sure where the desire to give him this experience came from, but tonight, I’m at peace.
I let that peace sustain me as I wash his hair and he washes mine, as he gently cleans me up with a washcloth and I do the same.
By the time we’re both squeaky clean, neither of us has any energy left to do anything but collapse into the cushy king-sized bed in the loft. Karan turns on his side to face me, and I curl into him, breathing in the scent that’s as familiar to me as the scent of the seasons.
How could I ever truly walk away?
Karan was right earlier today. There’s no way I could leave without trying. Not if he’s willing to show up and try with me.
I’m so tired, God am I so damn tired, but I’m not done.
And when I’m nestled against him, my leg over his hip, the heat of his body keeping me warm, I’m only reminded of everything I have to lose.
“I love you,” I whisper against his chest.
“I love you, Rachel. So, so much.” He grips me closer as a shudder passes through him. “I swear to you, we’re going to figure it out. Okay?”
“Okay. But for now…” I crane my neck to look up at him. “Just hold me?”
“Of course, baby.” And so he does, and for once, sleep comes easily.
I wake up to the spicy smell of Aloo Paratha wafting from downstairs blended with the scent of dark roast coffee. Before I open my eyes, I tap the other side of the bed, only to find it empty and cold.
Karan must hear me stir, calling out to me from downstairs with his rich baritone voice.
“I’m making you breakfast, love!”
I slip on one of Karan’s T-shirts, which comes right down to my mid-thighs. Before I make my way downstairs, I grab a fistful of fabric and sniff it to bury myself in his clean scent, if only for a moment.
Today won’t be easy. For a brief, magical evening, we were back to who we used to be. But we’ve got work to do now. There’s so much we still have left on the table—literally. We may have finished our soups, but we never finished our conversation.
I can only hope that we find a middle ground. After last night, I don’t think I can envision myself losing Karan again. The distance I’ve built between us in my mind, to prepare myself for what I believed was inevitable…
I want to take it back. Obliterate it.
That thought only becomes stronger when I make my way downstairs and see my husband wearing only grey sweatpants, his black hair loose from its usual bun as he toils in front of the stove.
A slight sheen coats his dark skin from the heat, and I want nothing more than to get as close as I can to him.
So I do.
I press myself against his side and sigh when he wraps one arm around me, keeping his other hand on the handle of the pan. He presses his lips on my forehead.
“I haven’t seen you sleep so peacefully in a long time,” Karan says with a wistful smile.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.” I inhale deeply, my mouth watering at the delectable scents coming from the Aloo. “Thank you for once again feeding me.”
“You’ve kept me fed for the last six months at least, without me deigning to show up on time for dinner, so this hardly makes up for it.” Karan’s thumb draws lazy circles on my lower back. “You should keep this shirt. It looks much better on you than it does on me.”
“I can’t keep it! That defeats the whole purpose. It needs to smell like you.”
“Then we’ll share it. When you give it back, it’ll smell like you.”
“We will need to wash it at some point, though.”
“Boo.”
I pull myself away from Karan to let him finish up the Aloo and go pour myself a cup of coffee, then take a seat at the table. As I wait for Karan to serve us, I peer through the large windows to admire the sprawling mountain view.
It’s no longer snowing, the sun now reflecting across the white-coated surfaces in its full glory. It’s one of those days when you come back indoors and can hardly see anything until your eyes get adjusted again.
We eat in a comfortable silence, although a slight tension permeates the air. We both know what’s coming once we’re done with Karan’s delicious breakfast. I take my time, savouring every bite, sipping my coffee slowly in between mouthfuls of food to drag out this meal a little longer.
All too soon, my plate is empty. Karan stands and takes both our plates, and when our gazes meet, his smile is bittersweet.
“Thanks,” I whisper, holding on to my cup of coffee for liquid courage.
Karan drops the dishes in the sink, comes back to his seat at the table, and clasps his hands together, elbows resting on the mahogany surface.
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Let’s lay it all on the table, Rachel. You start, and I’ll listen.”
My entire body is a pincushion, needles sticking me from every direction and numbing my skin. My tongue feels too big for my mouth.
But I have to speak. It’s now or never.
“Um…”
Why is this so difficult? I had no trouble getting upset at him over the last year, jabbing at him, and making a case for everything he was doing wrong. Even yesterday, I had the words.
Where are those words now?
“Rach.” He reaches out across the table and grabs my hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”
The warm trust I see in his eyes gives me the final push I need to break the dam open.
“I’ve started to resent that I’m no longer your priority.
” I breathe through my nose, beating back the burning sensation in my chest, the panic that’s trying to claw its way out of my lungs.
“Neither me or the boys are. Ever since your parents moved to the city, you’ve been a different man.
.. You cancel your plans with me at their beck and call, all for nonsensical stuff that should never, and I mean never, take precedence over the commitment you gave to me, your wife. ”
I tap my chest to emphasise my point.
I want to pause and breathe to steady myself, but it all comes pouring out now, with or without my permission.
“You never take my side when your mom tries to plan stuff with the boys without asking us first, or when she makes jabs about our parenting choices. You… fucking hell, Karan, you cut your hair last year, for an interview you didn’t want, for a job you hate, all to placate them.
“And now that job is taking you away from us. It’s turned you into a shell of yourself. It’s like you’re a ghost passing through our home, and we’re lucky to get a semblance of a whisper from you, when in reality, we should be getting the best of you.
“And you know what’s funny? Just the other day, at the cabin, your mom suggested that I stop working and become a homemaker instead.”
The shock that registers on his face doesn’t escape me, but I keep going, unable to stop the avalanche of grievances now that the slope has given way.
“That was never me. You know that. I love my job. I love you. I love Cayce and Corey. It used to be possible for me to have all of that, but now, I’m stuck picking up the slack from where you’ve dropped the ball.”
“I want you to have it all,” Karan interrupts me for the first time. “It was never my intention to make you feel like you had to give up your job, Rach.”
“Does your intention matter when this is where we are?” My throat clogs up with unshed tears. “Look, I know how much your parents mean to you. And I’m very aware that you think it was easy for me to cut ties with my parents, but like I said, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“I don’t think it was easy.” Karan squeezes my hand again. “What I said yesterday was completely out of line and selfish. I’ve never regretted words more than those. Rachel, you’re so brave that sometimes it scares me.”
I only realize I’m crying when Karan reaches out to wipe a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
“But you’re right that it’s hard to understand,” Karan continues. “My dad… ever since I was little, he always drilled one thing more than any other into me: cherish your parents. Respect them. Worship them. And then when my mom got sick…”
His voice trails off, as does his gaze.
“Karan. Look at me.” He obeys. “I know your mom’s cancer was hard on you. It’s terrifying. But… she’s healing now. For the time being, she’s in great shape. I know nothing is ever guaranteed, and that’s the thing…”
I take another breath to steady myself, though the tears keep falling.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t spend time with your parents. I love them too, you know. And it’s wonderful that our boys get to be close to their grandparents like this. But…” I look him dead in the eyes. “You cannot keep putting them first. Not if you want to keep me.”
Those last words burn my tongue coming out. And inside my mind, I silently beg and plead that Karan sees the light. Giving him up would be like tearing out a part of my soul.
How can anyone ever heal from that?
Karan’s nod is painfully slow. “I hear you, Rach. I really do. There are a few things I’d like to add the table, if that’s okay.”
I nod my permission.
“You’re right about me putting my parents first coming at the cost of our own family.
I guess I didn’t see how intense it was until they moved to the city and it became too easy to get too close.
” His jaw trembles. “I don’t know how, exactly, I’m going to work through that and find balance, but believe me when I say that I want to. ”
He pauses, and the softness in his eyes takes a sharp edge.
“But.” The tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine. “If we’re going to be talking about putting other people first, I can’t avoid bringing this up. I really, really wish you’d talked to me first before inviting Océane to come stay with us.”
“Karan, she’s disabled.”