Page 12 of Forged By Fate

As the steam in the bathroom cleared, my eyes caught faint red marks on my shoulders. I flushed hotly at the memory of Viren’s fingers digging into my skin as he dragged me over to the mirror. I shivered as I remembered the hunger in his eyes that matched the hunger in my body.

For a few minutes, I allowed myself to dream about what could have been. About what could have happened if I had taken him up on his offer. But then I remembered that no matter how many magical nights Viren allowed me, there would always be a morning-after filled with regrets, shame and heartbreak.

I threw on my Garfield pyjamas and dragged myself off to bed.

The next morning, I forced myself to go downstairs for breakfast as if nothing had happened. As if Viren and I hadn’t played with fire last night. Luckily for me, he wasn’t at the breakfast table when I arrived. And neither was Tahira, I noted with a frown.

Sufi had his nose buried in a big coffee mug. That boy was never a morning person, but I was sure he was also paying for that bucket of margaritas he’d downed last night. Daya Bua was fussing over him, forcing him to eat an egg at least. Aisha giggledinto her bowl of triple chocolate cereal as Sufi gagged at the sight of the sunny side up on his plate.

He gave me a bleary smile as Aisha jumped up to hug me.

“Aunty Sue, who was the man you met at Ally Pally last night?” she asked around a mouthful of cereal.

Daya Bua turned around in surprise.

“What man?” she asked sharply.

“I bumped into a childhood friend at Alexandra Palace last night, Bua,” I informed her.

“He’s very cute,” said Aisha.

“And he’s a doctor,” chimed in Sufi unhelpfully. “Daima, I think we should invite the dishy doctor for dinner someday.”

“You eat your egg,” she said with a disapproving sniff.

Seriously? She was going to make me feel guilty about meeting a friend even though she knew the truth about our marriage? Daya Bua had some unrealistic dreams about our situation, I thought angrily. And the sooner she adjusted those expectations, the happier she’d be.

Sufi made gagging sounds as he forced himself to eat a few bites. But he went silent at the sight of Viren and Tahira coming into the dining room arm in arm.

“Good morning,” she said happily, and Sufi shot me a worried look.

I kept my face blank and my gaze on my toast.

“I hope you slept well, beta,” said Daya Bua politely.

“I had a lovely night, Daima,” she replied.

What the hell did that mean, I wondered irately and looked up to find Viren’s eyes fixed on me. My heart began to race at the heat in his eyes. I dragged my eyes away from his and pulled out my phone.

“Did you have a nice time last night, Sunaina?” asked Tahira, with a smirk.

“I did, thank you for asking,” I replied warily, wondering why she was so concerned about me.

“I hope Viren wasn’t too upset you left him at home to go partying with your…friend,” she said cattily.

Ah! Now I got it!

I smiled at her sweetly before I turned to my husband, who had finally managed to extricate his arm from her clutches and sat down next to me, his knee practically touching mine.

“Viren would never be upset about such silly things because he trusts me. Don’t you, sweetie?” I asked, my eyes glittering with malice.

“Of course,” he replied, taking my hand and pressing a soft kiss on my knuckles. “I trust my wife completely.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I wondered what he was playing at. In all these years, he had never touched me, even when we were alone. And now he was indulging in PDA?

“And what about Dhruv?” asked Tahira guilelessly. “Do you trust him just as much? He looked smitten with your wife last night.”

“I don’t have to trust him,” replied Viren, still looking at me. “I know how to deal with men who touch my wife.”

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