Page 151 of Cakes for the Grump

I knock on the door, coughing. Both men look over at me. Dad has been changed and is tucked into bed, lying on his side. The bucket is there. His face looks wiped clean of sweat.

“Rita—”

“Go to sleep,” I say, interrupting my dad. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Okay. Sorry—puth.”

Luke and I leave the room. I shut off the lights and close the door. Then I find myself tidying the living room, placing pillows over certain spots on the couch.

Luke’s hand on my arm stops me.

“I know it’s small,” I start.

“There is more warmth here than my entire childhood.”

Proper words in reaction escape me. I fall back into courtesy. “C-can I get you something?”

His chest heaves, and he swallows thickly, expression pained and blown like I’ve hit him. “Have we gotten so informal that you’ll treat me like a guest? That you won’t even touch me?”

His desperation is like a detonation of action within me. I throw myself into his arms.

Hugging isn’t the right term. We’re finding each other’s hands, face, shoulders, waists, blurting out sentiments—finally, I need you, this is everything, missed it, haven’t called, thought of me, can’t believe it.

And then, suddenly, I wrench myself away. I’m gasping. “We need to talk. I need to know why you’re here.”

“I wanted to wait until your party was over.” Luke glances at the door where Dad is passed out. “I’m sorry you had to leave it like this.”

“I’m used to it.”

Luke shuts his eyes, but not before I see the flash of pained anger. “For that, I am even more sorry, darling.”

“You still haven’t explained why you are here. I—how is the company doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I left it.”

In the distance, cars honk louder in a bout of rash driving. Downstairs, the street food sings with the splashing of water, the sizzling of oil, and the spreading of dosa batter. The nearest temple bell rings to mark the quarter hour.

All of this must be why I didn’t hear him properly. “You can’t leave Abbot Industries. It’s yours.”

“I sold off my shares to Intel. They’ll lead the charge when it comes to what Abbot becomes.”

“There’s been nothing on the news about this.” A hysterical edge sharpens my voice. “It’s not happened.”

“It will break in the evening news—” Luke looks at his watch. “In an hour.”

“There’s still time to reverse it then!”

“There isn’t. Paperwork was signed this morning. And even if it could be undone, I wouldn’t. Not when it took me two months and four days to finalize the deal.”

Basically the full amount we’ve been apart. He’s been working on this since then? Unable to stand any longer, I drop onto the couch. “If this was for me, you’ll resent me for it.”

“Resent you?I don’t think you understand. I could never—and ignoring that, I’ve made myself a wealthier man by selling. Not to mention it’s the emotionally healthier course of action. Vengeance can be bad for the soul, can’t it? It leaves you emptier than before, even after you’ve accomplished what you set out to do.” He lifts and drops his arms. “Now, I’m here. And I missed you desperately.”

All my colors brighten. A dark fog lifts. I can exist again. Oh, how everything sharpens with clarity. “I’ve—missed you.” My pulse hiccups. “B-but what happens now? How do we go on?”