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He sat up and much to her disappointment got out of bed. “I need to get to work,” he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
Her face fell as she saw their little bubble of intimacy pop and the real world intrude. Agastya was watching her, his eyes noting every miniscule change in expression.
“What plans do you have for tonight?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Veda listlessly pleated the sheet between her fingers.
“I’ll pick you up at seven then,” he told her, walking towards the bathroom door.
“What’s the event?” she called after him. “I need to know so I dress accordingly.”
At the bathroom threshold, Agastya turned to say, “I thought I’d take my lovely wife out to dinner.”
Veda’s mouth fell open. “Just the two of us?” she asked.
Agastya nodded, a small smile on his face. “Do you think you could call me something other than Agastya Kodela while we’re out at dinner?”
“Sure.” Her face lit up as she considered the prospect of the night out.
“Just Agastya would do,” he told her, his smile broadening.
“Or…” Veda tapped a finger on her chin. “How about honeybunch?”
Agastya’s smile vanished. “Don’t you dare. Not in public.”
“Not to your liking?” Veda pretended to consider that more closely. “How do you feel about lambchop?”
“I feel idiotic. I’m not food.” He turned away from her and marched into the bedroom.
“Sweetcheeks?” she offered, clambering out of bed and following him.
“Veda!” The warning sailed right over her head.
“Sugarplum?”
“You’re a menace,” he told her, right before shutting the door in her face.
Veda started to laugh, tears of mirth streaming down her face. “I’ll keep thinking,” she shouted through the door between bouts of giggles.
“Please don’t,” he shouted back. “Let’s go back to Agastya Kodela. It has weight.”
“Whatever you say my sunshine.”
The low growl on the other side of the door had her chortling to herself as she limped back to bed, sliding in and pulling the sheets over herself. Happiness, this was what it looked like. Her gaze was drawn back to the shut bathroom door as a tendril of fear unfurled inside her.
Please God, let it stay. Let the happiness stay.
Twenty-Five
AGASTYA
“Sir.” Ganesh pocketed his phone and walked over to Agastya’s desk. “The Tourism Minister is asking for a meeting tonight.”
Agastya frowned down at the phone, the email on it not making any sense. “Print this out for me,” he instructed the aide hovering by his elbow. The young girl nodded and rushed to do the same.
“Sir,” Ganesh said again. “Tonight? To discuss the green zone proposal?”
Agastya grunted in agreement, his mind on his upcoming meeting. He was speaking with a youth group that was protesting the increase in retirement age in government jobs. They claimed it was impacting the employment of youth, making it harder for them to find jobs. Unfortunately, his father had already made this election promise to appease the old guard and now it was left to Agastya to find a middle path.
