“Yup. Set to the neighborhood frequency.”
“Great.” Nikhil wraps things up, explaining that we need to get going so we can board up the rest of the windows, and Alan saunters off on his way.
“Nice guy,” I offer, as Nikhil and I lug the ladder out of the garage.
Nikhil makes a low, noncommittal sound in response.
“Has he lived here long?”
“Can’t remember.”
“Kind of cool he’s an astronaut.”
Nikhil’s hands are full with the weight of the ladder, but he still somehow manages to lift his shoulders in something that resembles a shrug.
I take the hint. Whether it’s because we’re back in hurricane prep mode or because I’m the one attempting to jump-start the conversation, he doesn’t want to talk.
We set the ladder against the house, and I hold it steady, lookingstraight ahead. I’m definitely not stealing glances at the sight above me. Definitely not sneaking peeks at the way Nikhil climbs, at the way his muscled thighs and butt andeverythingmove in those jeans.
We finish with the front of the house, and then the windows at the back. We bring in the remaining crates of water, and the potted plants and other small objects scattered in the yard.
After dragging the last one in, we trudge back inside. I collapse at the kitchen table, resting my head in my hands. I’m bone-tired. And it’s not just from all the lifting.
It’s like my body has forgotten how to cope with thesetemperatures. And though I know there’s a storm coming, the weather right now would fool anyone. It’s late August. The tail end of summer, but it feels like the peak. There’s hardly any cloud cover to block the sun. And the humidity. I’d forgotten about that too. It makes it so no matter how absurdly hot it gets, you can’t sweat any of it off. It sticks with you. Combining with the moisture in the air. As evidenced by the way my T-shirt clings to my skin, all damp and disgusting.
“I need to take a shower,” I announce.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Nikhil mutters.
I bristle. I know I’m not exactly smelling like roses, but he doesn’t have to jab at me like that. I open my mouth, fully intending to lob something sharp and harsh and barbed right back at him, but then he continues.
“We may lose running water once the storm hits. Doesn’t always happen, but we should probably use it while we still can.”
The anger that had been building within me deflates, and a prick of guilt takes its place.
I really have been assuming the worst from Nikhil. It never used to be like that between us. There was a time when we only brought out the best in each other. Nikhil knew exactly how to shake me out of my dark spells and make me laugh. He made things light when they felt heavy, and I added weight when it was needed.
“You ground me,” he’d told me once, his eyes bright and earnest. “Sometimes I feel…I feel untethered. You know how, with my mom, her job made it so that we had to move around a lot? And it’s just every time I started at a new school, every time I felt like I was just starting to fit in, we’d have to leave. I’d have to figure out a new city, a new school, and new friends, and then at the end of the year, I’d have to do it all over again.
“But you…you make me feel like I can…like it would besafeto put down some roots. You’re so determined. So sure about whatyou want out of your career and your life. You never hesitate. You never waver. And if you’re sure that…if what you want is me—”
“Of course it is,” I’d said, my hand on top of his, the pad of a finger traveling over his skin.
He’d swallowed. “But it’s okay if it’s not. I don’t want to assume. I know we got married under strange circumstances and it’s not something we’ve talked about since. It wouldn’t be wrong if you’ve changed your mind. It’s only been a few weeks and we can still—”
“I want you, Nikhil,” I’d told him. “I want you.”
Relief had flooded his face, but it had given me pause. Had he somehow doubted me? Had I done something to make him think I wasn’t in this with him? Did he not know how I felt? Did he not know that every day with him made me feel like I’d won the lottery? Something I’d never expected. Something I’d never believed could actually be mine.
I’d opened my mouth to tell him, to try to explain just how much I’d wanted him, but then his lips had met mine, and we’d just showed each other instead, with our mouths, our hands, our bodies.
He’d traced every part of me like it mattered, running his fingerover my sternum, placing his palm flat against the center of my chest. Sometimes he’d press his ear to that spot, listening to my heartbeat as he brushed his lips against my breast.
The weight of his body, the pressure of it, had soothed my every nerve. In those moments, he quieted my mind. Made me feel blissfully at peace, with no worries about the future, no worries about anything. Even now, at night, when I’m too tired to hold the memories at bay, I can feel him. A phantomlike sensation. The way he pressed against me. The way he moved against me. The way he brought me to heights I’d never experienced before, and the way he held me as I came back down. Liquid heat spreads through my bodyand I scoot back from the table, my chair emitting a loud screech as it scrapes against the floor. Nikhil flinches and I offer an apologetic grimace before fleeing up the stairs toward the guest bedroom.
I need a shower. Really what I need is to get out of here. To get away from this house. From him.
I shut the door behind me, my skin burning as I flip the shower handle all the way to the left, making the water as cold as I can get it.