CHAPTER 43: MEETING HUBBY'S FRIENDS V
James stalked into his study, a mound of neglected work staring him down. But focus, his usual ally, remained stubbornly absent. "What the hell?" he muttered, never before having lost his edge this way. He forced himself through the emails and reports, each minute stretching like an eternity. By 9pm, exhaustion gnawed at him, mirroring the emptiness in his chest.
He retreated to their room, only to find it eerily quiet. Where the hell was his wife?. Maybe her study? he thought.
After a quick shower, he headed to her study to find her. He found her sprawled on the sofa, surrounded by the remnants of a creative frenzy – Fabrics, blueprints, papers, and cardboard scattered like fallen leaves tumbled from the desk, whispering of the designs brewing in her mind, she must have been really busy he thought.
Sleep had claimed her, a testament to her day's burden. He yearned to touch her, to pull her close, but something held him back. The memory of her icy silence earlier today still lingered, a cold wall between them.
He stilled himself and his emotions and gently reached to lift her, but Diana stirred, and opened her eyes. She came into direct contact with her husbands face not so far from hers.
"James?" she mumbled, startled, surprise blooming in her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Diana," he murmured, his voice husky with unspoken apologies. "You fell asleep here. I was just…"
"Taking me inside?" Her voice was clipped, a far cry from its usual warmth.
"I… I didn't want you to wake up on the sofa," he stammered, his confidence faltering.
She stood up, pushing away from him. "I'm fine here," she snapped, her voice tight.
He stood too, his frustration rising. "Since the mall, you've been distant. What is wrong, Diana?"
"I said nothing, James" she said, but her eyes avoided his, betraying the turmoil within.
"So, we're back to 'James' now?" he remarked, a humorless smile twisting his lips and a hint of hurt beneath his amusement.
Diana rolled her eyes, her silence a louder accusation than any words. Reaching for her phone, she started towards the bedroom when he caught her arm, his grip firm yet gentle. He pulled her close, their bodies aligning, his heat radiating against her.
"Diana," he pleaded, his voice raw and husky with concern.
"Please, talk to me. What can I do to make it right?"
She hesitated, her gaze flickering between him and the phone. "Nothing," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
He sighed, his resolve hardening. "Tell me, Diana. Don't shut me out."
She looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's just… how can I tell you anything, how can I be vulnerable, when you hold me like this?"
James' heart clenched. He saw the discomfort simmering beneath the surface, a battle waged between anger and something deeper. He hadn't realized how close he'd stood, how his possessiveness had become a cage. He stepped back, giving her space, his arms falling to his sides.
Diana's voice trembled as she met James' gaze. "Look James, I know you said you will not be able to love me," she began, each word a concession. "And I respect that. Your heart's yours to keep." But the truth, a tangled knot in her chest, screamed otherwise. Every word tasted like ashes in her mouth, She craved his love, ached for it with every fiber of her being, but settling for less was a bitter pill to swallow. But she swallowed it down, pushing forward. "At least for everything I've given you; my firsts more especially, can't you just listen to me sometimes? Indulge me? I think i deserve that much from you" Her voice, laced with vulnerability, pleaded for the bare minimum of connection.
James frowned, caught off guard by the fragility beneath her words. "You were exhausted," he defended, his voice tight. "I thought I was doing what was best for you."
"Even by sending Jared away?" Diana questioned, her voice cracking.
He hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Yes."
"How can you know what's best for me when you've already decided not to love me?" Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. She hated arguing with him because it always made her cry. She was very soft naturally by heart and her emotions changed very quickly.
James reached out, hesitant, then withdrew his hand. "Diana, I never said I wouldn't love you," he stammered, his earlier conviction shaken. "I said 'might.' There's a difference."
"Is there?" Diana choked out, tears glistening on her lashes. "Doesn't it just delay the inevitable? Another way of saying eventually not?" Her voice, a broken whisper, echoed the doubts that gnawed at her.
"You... you just said it was okay if I didn't love you," he stammered, confused and bewildered.
"Damn it, James!" Diana's voice, laced with raw emotion, shattered the silence. "Of course not!" Her anger, a flicker of defiance against her own resignation, burned through her tears. What woman will agree to that Diana thought to herself.
"Diana you are confusing me" James said exasperated.
She turned away, the tears flowing freely now, but her voice, when she spoke again, was firm. "Fine then. Forget it." She turned away, her tears blurring her vision, and fled to their room.
James watched her go, a knot of guilt twisting in his gut. He had underestimated Diana, her soft heart masking a fiery spirit he was only just beginning to glimpse.
Seeing her pain, he felt a pang of guilt. He'd always prided and considered himself a man of logic, of understanding, yet Diana defied every formula he knew, she was an enigma and a whirlwind of contradictions that made his head spin, a puzzle he couldn't decipher. One moment she was resigned, the next a tempest of emotions, she challenged him in a way he couldn't ignore. She made him think harder, feel deeper, and the experience, unsettling as it was, was strangely… intoxicating, probably why he was liking her more. But instead of frustration, he felt a strange pull, a desire to unravel her complexities.
James followed her into the room, finding her curled up on the bed, a solitary island in the vastness of the sheets. He noticed she was wearing PJ's instead of said nightwear he asked her to wear. He sat beside her, and turned her to face him.
Diana did not resist and turned obediently. She looked up at him with teary eyes.
James heart tugged when he saw her pained expression. He drew her close, his heart aching at her silent tears. 'If only she knew, he thought to himself. These 3 weeks with her... it had changed him in ways he least expected.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a featherlight kiss. "Tell me what you want, Diana," he murmured, his voice husky.
Her tear-stained eyes flickered open, a spark of hope shimmering within them. "I want to bake a cake tomorrow," she whispered. "You said its one of your friend's birthday tomorrow, so i want to bake a cake for him."
James was taken aback. This was the last request he was expecting. He thought she was going to ask something for herself but instead she still asked for something on his behalf. This his little wife was never going to stop surprising him.
"Then we bake a cake," he echoed, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "But first, dinner. I'm famished." he added his eyes twinkling.
Diana's smile widened, a flicker of joy returning to her eyes. "Noodles it is, its simple and easy to make" she agreed, her hand reaching for his as they stood together.
"Then I'll accompany you". Why did his wife love noodles so much James wondered as they left their room together.
Diana's smile mirrored his, the fragile truce holding back the tide of unspoken emotions.
As they descended the stairs, hand in hand, the air felt lighter, charged with a new promise.