Page 152 of Cakes for the Grump
“I’m here.”
I raise my head up at him, realizing I’ve been staring at the ground, afraid to hope. “For how long?”
“As long as you are here.”
“What are you going to do here?”
Luke gives me a patient, gentle look, if not a little amused. “India has the fifth largest economy in the world. It has one of the highest GDP growth rates anywhere. The IT sector is innovating at a rapid rate with a lot of opportunities for investment. I have no concerns. I’ll be able to start something new. Something mine. Something I can be proud of.”
“So that’s why you’re in India?”
“Look at me, Rita,” he says. “I need you.”
“You need my help?”
He shakes his head and steps closer. “I need you. The rest—I don’t careabout. If you want to live somewhere else, we can move. But if you want to stay here with your family and friends, we’ll stay here.”
He cautiously sits beside me. My fingers are impatient, deprived, and needy. They dig into his shirt. “All this for us to be together?”
He pulls me onto his lap, and makes a noise, as if it’s been so long and he’s been suffering in absence. Like a man inhaling his first breath after being sent underwater.
“It’s your fault,” says Luke. “You made me human.”
In such relief, I press my cheek against his chest. “What if you get sick of me?”
“I’ve been sick since you left. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’ve become very pathetic.”
“Stop describing my symptoms,” I cry.
“Sistine tried to hire someone new.” Luke burrows his face into my hair and breathes deep. “Don’t pull away from me for that. It wasn’t my idea.”
“I’m never being your employee again,” I say.
“What I want to call you is very different. Trust me. Much—more.” He gathers me even closer. “For the record, I fired the chef and spent two days cleaning the kitchen afterward, but it didn’t help. Your presence was gone. I—didn’t come home for a while after that. Slept at the office.”
“I’m so sorry that’s horrible, Luke.”
“Don’t cry.” With great care, he wipes the drops that have fallen from my eyes. “It wrecks me when you do that. Fuck. Please, darling—tell me what to do. You are shivering—should I—make tea?”
I rub my nose against his shoulder. “I’ve already drank too much tea.”
“I haven’t had a cup since you left.”
“Your f-fault,” I tell him in a shaky voice. “I’ve been trying to drown our tea withothertea. I ask anybody who is willing to drink some with me. Noor, Kiren, Uncle, the mailman who comes to this building—doesn’t work. How can the best tea be the one I drink with you?”
He takes a breath. “My fault? You’re the one who came into my office all brilliant and stubborn. Who made spending all my time working intolerable because I wasn’t around you. It’s you who has invaded the whole of me. Your kindness, beautiful smile, those mischievous brown eyes, the determination in which you do your best for the people you love. It’s—it’s—well—I love you. I don’t think I’ve said that part, have I? I love you.”
My lips part and I’m suddenly competing to hold my breath, going onuntil my lungs burn with fire and then finally, releasing it all together.He loves me?“No, I love you.”
Underneath me, he shudders on an exhale. “It’s not a competition. If it was, I would win.”
His laid-back tone is ruined by the disbelief, wonder, and thunderous joy flitting across his face. His eyes are wide and vulnerable.
“You wouldn’t win that,” I claim. “You think I’m to blame for this? How about you? Poking with all your witty sarcasm, the wry smirk you try to hide when I’ve amused you. Once I saw that—I couldn’t stop myself. I had to keep seeing it. The subtle signs of your happiness inappropriately cause me great joy! I mean—you are my boss.Were. It isn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to open your home to me and notice the little things. My tea. The whiteboard. The endearing way you make food, concentrating hard to not get it wrong. Obviously, I fell in love with you when it was all stacked up against me. How could I not?”
Luke brings my hand to his chest. “You’ve owned this for a while.”
Overwhelmed, I’m crying again. “The place where my heart is supposed to be is empty. It stayed behind with you when I left.”
