Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)

Chapter Eighty-eight

(Six months later)

As much as I like the end-of-year festive season, it’s also a pain in the ass.

I’m at the shelter today and we’re short-staffed with most people on holiday. It shouldn’t be a problem but it also kept raining the whole day, leading to a mess all around. The dogs escaped through the open doors to play in the backyard, returning all dirty from the wet mud.

Sami, me, and a few of the others having been working nonstop cleaning and bathing them. But now my hands are tired and my joints ache from scrubbing. There’s still a few of the dogs to go. My plans of going home early and having a relaxing evening with my own pets went to hell.

“How many more are left?” I ask an equally tired Sami, who is checking the time on her wristwatch.

“Four more.”

“Why don’t you go home?” I tell her, aware her husband and six-year-old daughter are waiting for her. “I can give them a bath and then lock up.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice is hesitant.

“Of course.” I smile. “Go be with your family. Wish them a happy Diwali from my side. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Thanks, Rosalie. Happy Diwali to you too.”

We hug and say goodbye. I gaze around at the space. It’s a complete mess and so am I. My hair is twisted in a bun, the short tresses falling from it and tickling my cheeks. My plain white tee is smudged with dirt and covered in dog hair while my black legging is wet and sticking to my body.

“God! I need a bath too,” I mutter.

“Yeah, you do.”

I jump at the deep voice and whirl with a scream lodged in my throat. I rest my palm on my wildly beating heart, especially when it pumps even harder and faster as my gaze clashes with Nova’s.

The man is still my husband on paper.

I can’t even form a rebuttal as I take him in head to toe in a black T-shirt and blue jeans.

The first thing I notice is that he’s grown his hair longer. The messy black locks now curl behind his ears, making him sinfully handsome. Lethal sharp looks that demand attention the moment he enters a room.

Has it been six months since I watched him begrudgingly walk out of my life? I was only able to stay in that house, filled with memories of us in every corner, for two days before I quickly moved into a two-bedroom apartment in the city.

I thought it was going to be hard on me but my babies were also sad in his absence.

Often, I would catch them sitting at the front door and waiting for him in the evenings. Like he’d be returning from the office any minute.

Of course, it led to me second-guessing my decision that first week, wondering if I had made a mistake. Contemplating and fighting to run back to him. I don’t think I went a night without crying myself to sleep for the first month. It wasn’t just the loss of Nova and everything about him, but the years of nightmares and brokenness I had compartmentalized. The lack of protection and love from my parents during my childhood.

The lid on it had splintered and I was feeling everything at once.

It wasn’t until I began therapy, talking instead of keeping it all inside, that I started to feel better and in control. I wasn’t running from it; I was facing it head-on and dealing with it in a proper way. Something that wouldn’t have been possible without the support of my best friends who never left my side.

My love for writing played the biggest role in helping me grieve and heal. I poured everything into pages full of raw and unfiltered, emotional and dark, tragic and traumatizing, and finally strong and hopeful words.

As each day went by, I wasn’t crying every night.

The nightmares were all but gone.

My mind wasn’t riddled with anxiety and scars. I was free in a way I never was.

However, the one chapter I never got over, didn’t want to get over let alone forget, is now standing mere feet from me.

He’s kept his word and maintained distance.

“You’re still the most stunning woman,” he compliments in the same rich and dark baritone, raising goosebumps on my skin. He comes closer, pushing his hands inside his pockets, and rocks back on his heels. “How have you been, Rose?”

Bereft.

Missing you.

Unable to stop loving you.

I say none of those things and tuck my hair back when it tickles my cheek again. “I’ve been good. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t stay away anymore.” I suck in a breath at his confession. Before I can reply, he casually drawls, “You look like you could use some help.”

I jump at the change of topic, away from the heavier one. Because I’m still unsure of what I want. His closeness after so long has made my brain all mushy. I want to throw myself into his arms and yet run away.

It’s five in the evening on a Friday, so I ask curiously, “Why aren’t you in the office?”

“Took a half day,” he replies before probing again. “Sami said you were giving the dogs a bath. Who’s next?”

“You’re volunteering?”

“I don’t see anyone else around.”

As if I need a reminder we’re alone. “Don’t mind getting your hands and clothes dirty?”

“You already know the answer to that,” he teases. “Stop stalling.”

The safe choice would be to send him away, yet I find myself guiding him to the back near the shower stalls. His body heat warming my back. I chew my lip, pondering how he’s keeping his restraint and not touching me.

Do I even want him to?

A few minutes in his presence, I’m already off kilter. I’m not ready to become lost in his orbit. Not yet. I’ve just now begun to smile and enjoy the things I love. I want to be strong on my own before trusting to lean on someone else.

Nova makes me feel weak.

In my knees. My heart. Everywhere.

The feeling scares me.

“They didn’t get much dirty.” I point to the inseparable pair. “You can just hose their legs and they should be good. I’ll take those two.”

Nodding, he brushes past me. Our hands touching. The small contact sending sparks of electricity down my spine. I become riveted to the muscles shifting and flexing of his arms and back as he concentrates and gently guides the two dogs.

Shaking myself out of the stupor, I focus on the other two.

Peaceful silence fills the space as we finish cleaning them and after feeding, we guide them to their cages to tuck in for the night. I grab a bucket and sweeper to clean the wet floor. Only for it to be taken from my hands.

“I’ll do it,” says Nova and nods toward the bench in the corner. “Go rest.”

His expression leaving no room for an argument.

I observe him for the next half hour, gathering my thoughts while guessing what his end goal is. Mainly, how did he know that I’d be here? Was it a coincidence? Quite a big one, considering he’s never volunteered or been around any shelter.

Speaking of shelters, Nova hasn’t taken his offer back to construct the bigger one with all the world-class amenities as I’d envisioned. I thought for sure he would attend the meetings I have with Justin as well as his own team I’m working side by side with. The first time I entered his office building, I was a nervous wreck about running into him. But he never once came to visit, even though he must’ve received updates.

“Anything else?” he asks, once finished.

“What did you mean you can’t stay away?” I blurt out instead. “Should I expect you to show up everywhere I go?”

“Unlikely, since you hardly go out unless it’s to Bianca’s place or lunch with your friends. Don’t think they’d be welcoming to me.”

I narrow my eyes in suspicion and stand, cocking one hip to the side. “Have you been stalking me all these months?”

“I kept my distance, as you asked,” he replies before admitting unapologetically, “I never said I’d stop watching over or loving you. I’m giving you time and space—well, space now—until you’re ready to be mine again.”

“What if I never am?”

Pain flashes in his eyes but his lips curve into a smile as he confesses, “I’ll keep trying and begging until you are.” Invading my personal space, his arm circles my waist to pull me flush against him. I don’t push him away and he notices. “Six months ago, you wouldn’t have spent seconds alone with me, but today you did. I count that as a win.”

“That’s because I needed the help,” I stubbornly lie. “I would’ve kicked you out otherwise.”

His tempting and lush mouth tilts higher at my feeble resistance. His brown eyes turn warm, bright with love and adoration that hits me square in the chest. “I miss you, Rose. I miss waking up and sleeping next to my wife. I miss our dogs, who I love just as much as you. I miss our little family. You, me, and them. Because that’s what we are. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t fight for mine?”

My breath hitches, emotions clogging my throat at him calling me his family.

“So fair warning, my beautiful wife, I’m going to be around… a lot.”