Borrowed But Mine: An Arylie FF

Borrowed But Mine: Chapter 65

Aryan opened his eyes and breathed in the salty air, his ears attuned to the sound of surging and receding waves of the ocean.

Beside him, Imlie slumbered soundly. Carefully, he extricated his arm from underneath her head and flexed his fingers to coax circulation back into his numb arm. 

He glanced at her sleeping form and a corner of his lips lifted ruefully. She was his perfect partner. The last three months had been busy and he'd been a stranger some days. Busy until late at night. But not once had Imlie demanded attention.

Just a silent presence in the background with a book or article in hand or working on her laptop while he worked with intent focus. Occasionally he was treated to a neck rub to soothe his tense shoulders, a hug, a peck on the cheek. 

When he was busy she stayed occupied with her projects. And when he wasn't they did things together. Hosting their friends for dinners or weekend brunches, walks at the nearby beach, quiet movie nights when he invariably fell asleep next to her.

The feel of this marriage, he mused, was so very different. She cared for him, loved him. Deeply.

She was his dream come true. A dream he hadn't been aware he'd been harboring somewhere deep in the recesses of his heart probably since his first failed marriage. 

Aryan sighed and closed his eyes. 

His first marriage. A monumental mistake, the way he'd handled that marriage. One that he took full responsibility for. Imlie had helped him finally cross that hurdle too. Sometimes he wondered, if he'd ever have met Imlie had he never married Madhulika. 

Maybe if he'd never married Madhulika, maybe he'd have taken a beach vacation some day and maybe, just maybe, their paths may have just crossed. 

The sight of Imlie with her arms open, her face turned up to the sky, walking backward to the edge of the ocean made him smile in reflex. 

Lost in a fantasy of meeting a grey eyed, fair skinned Imlie, he began drifting off to sleep only to wake up with a sudden start. Reflexively, his heart slammed in his chest at the sound of frantic shouts over the roar of the ocean.

With a frown he strained to listen.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Puzzled, he glanced at his watch.

Three AM. No one in their right mind would set off firecrackers at 3 AM in January.

There was no occasion for firecrackers. He heard shouts again and.......was that a snarl?

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as another loud snarl and an angry booming woof rang out in the air. 

Archer!!

That sound did not bode well. Swiftly , he disentangled himself from their blankets and quickly pulled on a t-shirt over his joggers.