Page 34 of Mine before Dawn
Then she tucked him into bed beneath the blankets.
Tanay yawned sleepily.
“James coming?”
The question nearly destroyed her. Tanay knew more than he let on.
“Not tonight,” she managed.
He accepted it easily, already drifting toward sleep. Children adapted to disappointment faster than adults.
Asha waited until his breathing deepened before she crossed the room alone slowly.
The bed still smelled like him. His male warmth had seeped deep into the worn sheets. And into her very bones.
Her knees gave out suddenly. She sat down hard on the mattress and pressed trembling fingers against her mouth to stop the ugly sounds rising there. But the endless tears came anyway, sliding down her face one after another while her heart felt like it was being torn apart slowly.
But there was nothing she could do. This was the way it had to be.
When scandal came, men brushed it aside and carried on.
Women got burned at the stake.
Chapter 12
While she tossed and turned, a man stood beneath her window long after midnight.
The street had emptied hours ago and only the flickering streetlight and the shadow of the moon through the clouds remained.
The distant rumbling of an ancient bus and the occasional drip of rainwater from overflowing gutters broke the silence. Pale moonlight silvered the narrow alley and the cracked pavement below the old building.
James stood motionless in the shadows.
He had hardly been aware as his feet took him down the familiar path. He could not sleep without knowing she was home safe.
One moment he had been halfway down the street after leaving the pub, the next his feet had carried him here automatically, like his temper hadn't made him run his mouth and that fight in the end had not meant the end. He was not ready. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to stop those awfulwords from spilling from Asha's mouth and make her forget the only way he knew.
The thin curtain glowed faintly from the lamp inside. She had picked it up at the second-hand store two shops down from the pub.
He could see shadows moving now and then.
He imagined Asha crossing the room for a drink of water. He would normally get it for her because the floor was so cold. He enjoyed watching her waiting for him in bed.
He imagined the boy climbing into bed beside her and hugging her softness. She always smelt of cheap lavender soap from the grocery store and sometimes cooking oil and spices. And that very unique smell beneath that was all Asha. A tiny spiral of jealousy sparked in his chest. That should be him next to her.
Then, the light went out and all was still. James stared at that window for so long his neck ached.
There were lines of strain bracketing his downturned mouth. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles looked white beneath the moonlight. He barely noticed the rain trickling down his neck making his shirt stick to his back.
Several times he seemed ready to walk to the door only to turn back and continue his vigil. But the memory of her face behind the pub stopped him cold.
The Indian whore who briefly warmed your bed.
Christ.
James scrubbed a hand over his jaw harshly and looked up one final time before turning away.
***
