24. 🍸 Side Car 1.0

**KEKE**

***One and a half years ago***

The sweat from our bodies coats the sheets. The night is warm and the air-conditioning in my part of the house wasn’t cooling as it should. Wealth and privilege goes a long way in Dubai, though the maintenance men worked according to a strict schedule and nothing could hurry them up.
It’s not like we could go to Krish’s part of the building. Not with his mother and his sister’s family, housed a few feet apart.
No, our relationship was on the lowest of the down-lows and had been ever since I met Krish at Arjun and Sachi’s place four years ago. To get my attention, he’d come over often, visiting the nursery to give Jai a gift. When his eyes fell on me, they left no doubt who he wanted to see.
We remained on the up and up, only exchanging a few words about the weather and how Jai did that day. Although the looks between us could melt tungsten, we weren’t even on a first name basis.
All that changed when Sachi left to take a phone call.
Jai was busy playing with his new toy in the other room when, without a word, Krish took me in his arms and kissed me like he had been doing it all his life.
And I loved how he took what he wanted.
Ever since that day I’ve been his.
Four years is the longest I’ve been with anyone. Krish is one of the hottest men in Dubai, and he is all mine.
The man is gorgeous— what with his liquid brown eyes, thick brown hair, and large, fit, physique, he could snag any woman he wants.
But his looks are not why I want him. They’re just the bonus.
Krish is an artist. Every watercolor picture he makes tells a story that has his followers laughing, crying, and searching deep in their soul. Broody and enigmatic, from the start, he intrigued me. When I learned what he did, I looked him up online. His art took my breath away. Sachi kept a book displaying his art in their home library. After meeting him that first night, I wasted no time in devouring each one.
And on my next day off, I went to the Salsali Private Museum where some of his work was on display.
It was there I fell in love with his work... which quickly transferred to the man the longer we continued to meet. When he learned Arjun and Sachi were moving back to Prague, Krish took charge. He had me working for his sister before I could think about heading back to Europe.
Not that I would have. He had caught me. Hook, line, and sinker.
“When are you leaving for America?” I ask, trailing a hand down his rippled stomach.
He uncouples his arm from around my shoulders and swings his long legs over the side of the bed, giving me his back. His voice is as vague as his statement of “I’m not sure.”
Why doesn’t have the dates for his show yet? Surely, the gallery has arranged them well in advance?
Something doesn’t add up.
My skin prickles as a coldness… a premonition washes over me, leaving me unsure for the first time since I lay in the hospital bed, wondering if I would ever walk again.
At six feet, I tower over most women and my frame is big-boned at best, yet I’ve never felt awkward about my body or hated my curves.
I’m feeling that way now.
Krish, is giving off vibes that has me sitting up, my senses on high alert. Like a rabbit catching the scent of a deadly predator.
I pull the sheet up, hiding my breasts.
And he makes no move to stop me.
An hour ago, he couldn’t get enough of them. Hell, every time he touched me, my boobs were the first to feel his mouth… his tongue… his teeth.
Now, he’s as indifferent as they come.
“Why don’t you know, Krish? You’ve known months in advance for your other shows. What’s so different about this one?” Since being shot, I’ve viewed the world with suspicion and caution. The negativity disappeared when Krish and I got together. Although we’ve never declared our love in public, in private we were more committed than man and wife.
With tears, we shared our deepest secrets. Our most vivid hopes, turned into goals we promised to help the other reach. Through Krish, I learned to open my heart and trust once more in the world around me.
I don’t like this doubt. It brings me back to my hospital bed and the despair that nearly kept me an invalid for life.
Krish rises from the bed and walks to the window. His ass is firm and taut.
I love grabbing it as he plunges between my thighs; however, I don’t let the sight remain a distraction.
I want answers. Now.
I open my mouth to get them when he says, “I’m getting married, Keke.”

The words “married” and “Keke” catch my breath. For a millisecond, I think he has asked me to marry him. Then what he really said sinks into my brain like a tossed stone in water.
With stunned silence, I watch with round eyes as he yanks on his pants and pulls his shirt over his head.
My heart plummets to the floor below and heads straight for the Earth’s core. Even as I speak, a sharp pain, like a cat’s claws, rake my insides. “W-what do you mean... married?”
It’s a joke, right? I mean, I know he’s been distracted these last few weeks. He’s always like that before a big show—
He sits on the bed, clasping his hands between his knees. His eyes remain fixed on the floor. “In our culture... in my family, we have our marriages arranged. As the oldest child and the only male, I’m obligated to abide by my parents’ wishes to marry the woman they have chosen for me.”
“You have to... you want to...” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t say the words that would make my nightmare become a reality.
I love this man. He is everything I have ever wanted. Cultured, kind, smart, sexy, good...
No.
Not so good. Not by a long shot.
“How long have you known?” In the four years we’ve been together, we’ve never fought. We haven’t strayed.
How did this happen?