This Time, Her Turn [Completed]

Chapter 3

She returned late. She could have gone home earlier but she contemplated if he left yet.

In the quiet space, the click of the door was sharp.

The lights were off and the house seemed empty. But something felt off. It was warm. Was he still around?

She walked a little in and turned on the light. Silver shined on the table. The food was still wrapped hot. She sighed.

She had already had an early dinner and then strolled through the city square for three whole hours before she returned. She was hungry. She sat and ate peacefully.

When he heard the door open and close, he was finally relieved. He tried to sleep but he was wide awake.

When he walked out to greet her, she was eating what he had cooked. She looked a little lost and a little dreamy.

"If you like that food so much, you should consider having me around."

She looked at the sudden interruption startled. He watched for some time leaning on the wall. Then he left her alone and went into the bedroom, finally falling asleep as soon as he fell into the mattress.

After she was done eating and cleaning, she was ready for sleep too.

When she saw their bed, she shouted, "Sleep on one side!" The man was sprawling across the bed leaving her no space.

He did not budge.

She pulled him off the bed holding one hand. She moved him a foot and that was enough for him to wake up.

"Hmm?" he squinted his eyes. He pulled her onto the bed, adjusted himself and her.

She struggled. It was outright embarrassing, and uncomfortable, the way her breasts were squeezed together, and one half out of her slip beneath her nightgown. "Roll over, roll over!" she kept disturbing him.

"Shh..."

He hugged her till morning.

∼•∽

In the morning by the time she woke up, a nice smell wafted to her. She freshened up and waited to be served food. While she could cook, she hated cooking. Moreover, he cooked pretty well, although it could not be called delicious.

"Good morning," he bent and kissed her lips softly.

The two ate calmly.

Once done, she asked him again, "When are you going?"

"Going where?"

"Your home."

"My flat?"

She nodded.

"I sold it."

"Ah, then where do you live now?"

"Here..."

"Your work also shifted here?"

"Here, I mean, here in this apartment. And no, work is still the same, I said I'll work remotely. I'll probably have to show up at the office once in a while."

"Here? Here... is not your home." The pause in her sentence showed how assertive she was.

"Throw me out, I'll just resign from my job, transfer all ownership of Hidden to the seniors and then go to the police, penniless and unemployed. You'd have to take care of me by law." In fact, he could go to the court for his conjugal rights, but the result would be a divorce on rather bad terms.

She took a moment to assess what he said. She had no idea if that was how things worked. She asked him once again, "Why don't we get a divorce?"

"Why?"