El is awake before me again. It has become the new routine. She sleeps late, wakes early. I prop myself on my elbows, watching my wife labour over an illustration on her iPad. Without makeup, the dark circles around her eyes are more prominent and her collarbone pokes at her flesh. She is skipping meals.
Her brows furrow in concentration, she folds her legs underneath her and reclines on the couch. I stalk towards the couch, snatching her iPad which I push to the side stool so I can hoist her on my legs.
I pinch her cheeks. “Time out.”
“Time out?” The back of her hand goes over her mouth to stifle another yawn, confirming her need for a break. “But I just started.” I press a finger to her lower back, working the tension up to her spine and her body sags in relief. She reaches for the iPad again, I hold it above our heads. “Baby, I need to finish up.”
“You need to take a break.”
Since El informed me about the clothing line, she has been working twice as hard. We live together but it feels like we are miles apart. El pouts, I rub my nose against hers and her arms slide around my neck. Her head lowers to my shoulders, I draw circles on her back and her breathing eventually evens out.
“How was your night?” I whisper. She looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion. I love her passion but this is killing her. She needs to rest. What role is T playing except for supporting her with the finances? Something I am more than capable of doing. The fucker. Good thing El is the face and name of the brand.
Her head jerks up. “Short.” My thumb brushes her cheek, she sighs softly. “Too short.”
The curtain rustles and the room returns to silence. It’s too quiet. “What about the girls?”
“Their room,” she answers, “I bribed them.”
My hand sneaks inside her shirt, she freezes and relaxes almost immediately as my fingers crawl upward. I palm her back, tracing slow, delicate circles on her skin. We haven’t had our date yet.
Life is different with our girls and it might take a while for me to fully adjust to the new us. I love my babies but it never stops me from wishing they are older so we can comfortably leave them overnight without worrying if something will go wrong. God. To think I still want more kids. One boy, maybe two and we are done.
“Do you want to go out?” I want to show her off. I am tired of the unaware shots the media takes when we drop the kids at school. Speaking of school, I sit up, almost knocking El off my laps. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Today is Saturday. No schools on Saturday. Maybe I am the one who needs to rest. El frowns. “Wanna go out?” I am speaking in whispers and I have no idea why. She shakes her head, I lock my arms around her waist, keeping her hostage. She owes me a date. The kids will be fine on their own for a few hours. I’ll inform Lydia. Anything but I desperately need alone time with my wife. “Why not?”
“Sleep. I need sleep,” she says, yawning to make her point. I carry her to the bed, slide in beside her with one arm on her waist and an elbow propped on the pillow. “We can go out tomorrow.” She places a kiss on my lips, backing away before I think to deepen it. My eyes narrow. “Or during the week, is that okay?”
I manage a nod, unable to find that familiar anger at being turned down. We have a reservation at one of those fancy restaurants we used to frequent in the past. I should have asked her first but I was so sure she would say yes. I was certain she missed our dates and outings as much as I did. This sucks.
Pulling the covers to her chin, I switch off the lights, casting the room into semi-darkness.
Moments after I think she is fast asleep, she says, “I want to release the first collection on my birthday.” Clasping my hands behind my head, I stare into nothingness. The darkness. “It’s the reason for all these, the late nights.” El sighs, I locate her hand to offer comfort. “Is it too soon? I feel like it’s the right time.”
“It is,” I tell her. “It’s the perfect time.”
Her birthday is next month. Same with the twins. They are a few days apart. I lucked out in that aspect.
A month has turned to two, we are going strong but there’s something stopping me from making plans for her birthday. We never got to celebrate it as a couple. The girls always get their cartoon themed parties but El does nothing. She never celebrates or maybe she did with the people who mattered then.
“I can’t sleep.” Me too. I wasn’t planning on it but I couldn’t miss the chance to snuggle with her. “I’m so frigging exhausted but my body doesn’t want to listen. Why?” I smile, lifting her so she can lay on me. Her head makes a pillow of my chest which rumbles with laughter. “Stop laughing. Your baby needs sleep.”
Patting her hair, I whisper, “Okay, baby. Sleep.”
But she doesn’t.
Her finger circles my nipple, I cup her butt while listening to her heart. These little unplanned moments will always be my favourites. “I want a fashion line. Makeup, lingerie, perfume,” she mutters. “Everything that screams beauty and fashion. I want it all. I want to have my brand on billboards. Everywhere.”
“And you will have it, baby. All of it,” I add with enough conviction to win over a jury. Warmth spreads through my chest and my heart beats with pride. Aside from Loan Dolphin, El never mentioned her love for fashion or showed interest in other businesses. The ambitious part of me is more than glad to have a partner like her. The world should be our stage. It is already our stage and we will give earth a wonderful performance. Leave our marks. “You are one step closer.” Her doubtful hum pushes me to say, “You are, Elna. I didn’t always know I would be this... This man who is crazy in love with inventions. It takes time.”
“I used to be jealous of you,” El says. I arch a brow knowing fully well she can’t see me. I have nothing but loads of emotional baggage, she is not missing out on anything. “Not exactly jealous. Maybe jealous isn’t the word I am looking for. But you have always known what you wanted from such a young age.”
My fingers stop moving across her spine. I smooth the hair out of her face, searching for her eyes in the dark. “Not really. The path had been chosen for us.” We were born into these roles as the first sons, it was expected of us. “We just stepped into the shoes and tried to fill the roles. Luckily for me, I enjoy it.”
Running the Stark company is tough, the kind of tough you learn to love and enjoy. It is challenging but I love challenges. Managing it with my new projects is hell but in a strange way, I love both jobs. There is never a moment of doubt. No second thoughts. With weapons and cars, you never have to worry about their feelings or them getting jealous because you spend more time on another model or brand. Once everything is set up, they will do exactly what they have been programmed to do. Shoot. Destroy. Drive.
“It takes time. Good things take time.” Now I sound like a therapist. I shudder. “At twenty-seven, I didn’t know I loved cars to the point of creating mine. Electric cars. It never happens overnight, baby.”
She slaps my chest. “I’m twenty-eight.” I am the first one to snicker, she giggles and I laugh harder. She will be twenty-eight in December so I am not wrong. “But you were already a billionaire at that age.”
My reply takes a while to come. Words swirl in my head until I am certain I will be saying the right thing. It’s not jealousy, there’s no trace of that in her voice. Maybe longing and misplaced admiration. “You are a billionaire too.” A shiver runs through me as her teeth graze my nipple. “My money is your money.”
“I want my own billions.”
I picture her saying this with a pout. I thread my fingers into her scalp to show solidarity and she rewards me with a kiss to my jaw. Her dreams will come true. She will get it, lots of it.
Loan Dolphin is valued at a few million dollars already. Her fashion and makeup line will boost it.
“Was this what you expected of your future? Our future?” A bitter taste fills my mouth, I close my eyes. I don’t like the turn of this conversation. Fortunately for me, El is not interested in my reply. “When I was younger, I used to tell Ma I will get on Forbez list.” My hand closes over my phone, I tap on the screen and point it at her. The screen illuminates her face, she sticks her tongue out. “Billionaire under thirty.”
The screen lights up with a call before I can think of a reply, I squint at the name written on the screen. Ma? Why is Mother calling me? Since when do I have her number saved? Why the hell do I have a love emoji beside her name? El snatches the phone from me, I release the breath stuck in my throat. It’s her phone not mine. At some point, I will need to confront them but not today, maybe not this year.
Her conversation floats in and out of my ear, my chest tightens each time she giggles and pain shoots up my spine. It must be nice to pick up the phone to call your parents. It must be nicer knowing they will do the same for you. Her words come out slurred as my fingers sink into her scalp, she snorts at something her mother says and my belly clenches. They switch to their dialect as El traces invisible lines on my chest.
Body tense, breath held in, I relax when the call ends. “Ma says hi.”
My pulse quickens and my eyes flicker to her face. She turns her phone upside down and the room returns to darkness. “Really?” I feel El nodding against my chest. The biggest grin spreads on my lips. She doesn’t hate me. She knows we are back together. My arms wrap around her in a tight hug. “Tell her I said hi.”
“Or you could just pick up your phone and call her.” My heart jumps to my throat, I shake my head. That woman can be scary. I haven’t forgotten the slap or the kitchen threats. “She asked about you every day for a whole month.” My heart melts, my insides still with a firm resolve. I will call her. This time, I will properly ask her for her daughter’s hand in marriage. “Then once a week until she realised it was over.”
I plant a kiss on her hair. “It’s not over anymore.”
“It’s not.”