Akira woke up early, her mind focused on Vasco's return. His flight was scheduled to land at 8 a.m., meaning he would be home around 9, if he came directly.
She had called and messaged him, but he hadn't replied.
Although she told herself she wasn’t expecting anything, a small knot of anxiety settled in her chest as she thought about seeing him.
At 6 a.m., she was already in the kitchen, preparing his breakfast.
She knew it was a simple gesture, yet for her, it held so much meaning.
Each act, however small, was her way of showing him that she cared—perhaps even hoping he'd notice.
This was her way of bridging the gap between them, however subtle it might be.
As Akira prepared Sali par edu with a side of chapati, she knew Vasco would enjoy the hearty breakfast over any "health freak" meals people usually nudged toward.
Vasco, a true foodie, had a tremendous appetite, though he rarely admitted it. Once he started eating, he could easily devour enough for five people, which wasn't surprising given his physique. Standing at a towering 6'7" with a broad chest and a powerful build, Vasco was undeniably masculine.
She couldn’t deny that she found his rugged strength attractive.
Yet, she was also aware of the darker side of that strength.
Vasco was far from an ideal man in some respects; his temper had crossed lines that left her questioning her own limits. In her heart, she knew she wouldn't want a daughter of hers marrying a man with a tendency to let anger drive his actions, especially if it led to even the faintest suggestion of harm if ever she would have a daughter.
But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside as she concentrated on the dish.
Sali par edu—a humble yet ingenious combination of crispy, deep-fried potato straws, topped with runny eggs and a side of baked beans, all served with toast or, in Vasco's case, warm chapati.
This breakfast held a sense of comfort and warmth, and she hoped, if only a little, that he would feel her care in each bite.
Akira waited anxiously as the clock neared 9:45, well past the time Vasco should have arrived. She reached for her phone, ready to call his office to check if he’d gone there instead. But just then, she saw his car pulling into the driveway.
The sight brought a wave of relief and purpose.
She reminded herself that she was determined to make this marriage work, not only for personal reasons but also because so much rested on their unity—their family businesses, their social ties, the legacy they were both expected to uphold.
As Vasco stepped inside, Akira greeted him warmly, wanting to start on a positive note.
She believed in being like a river—flowing freely, releasing emotions rather than bottling them up, avoiding the staleness that comes from holding onto resentment and hurt.
Akira: "Hi, I've made breakfast for you. Shall we?"
Vasco's reply was little more than a grunt, but it was heavy and stern, enough to make his mood clear.
Vasco: "Hmm."
Akira could feel the tension beneath his response, his anger simmering just below the surface.
This wasn’t going to be easy, she thought, but she was prepared to meet him with patience.
These small efforts, like breakfast, were her way of building something stronger between them, even if it took time for him to recognize it.
Vasco was more than just eating—he was devouring the Sali par edu with an intensity that was almost primal.
He’d settled himself on the sofa instead of the dining table, sprawling out with that effortless authority he seemed to carry. His broad frame nearly swallowed the entire seat, making him look even more like the giant he was.
Akira couldn’t help but be taken in by the sight of him, a powerful figure with an appetite to match.
She quietly served him, placing each dish within his reach, her every movement a silent offering. But Vasco remained focused on the food, not even sparing her a glance.
A flicker of frustration crossed her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside.
She wanted this moment to be more than just about the food; she wanted him to feel her presence, her care, her devotion—things that couldn't be said in words.
Trying to bring a bit of lightness into the air, she took a seat beside him, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
There was an undeniable pull, an energy between them that neither could ignore. As she looked at him, her gaze lingered on his strong jawline, the faint stubble from his travels, and the way his shoulders seemed to fill the room with silent strength.
Her fingers itched to reach out, to smooth the lines of tension she saw there.
Finally, she leaned a little closer and, with a soft smile, broke the silence.
Akira: "So... did I get it right? Is my Sali par edu as good as you remember?"
For the first time, Vasco’s gaze shifted to her. His stern expression softened ever so slightly, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Vasco: "Hmm… it’s not bad," he said, a bit gruffly, but she caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Encouraged, she moved a little closer, her hand brushing his arm ever so lightly. "I’ll take that as a win," she replied, her voice warm, letting herself just enjoy the simple act of being near him.
Though he didn’t say it, she could sense that he felt it too—the pull between them, the possibility of something deeper that lay beneath the tensions and misunderstandings. For now, they didn’t need words.
The food, the quiet touches, and the unspoken promise between them were enough.
Vasco POV
Vasco’s thoughts drifted as he walked through the door.
Usually, he came back to an empty, quiet house—no one waiting, no one to greet him, and honestly, he’d never minded that.
He wasn’t the kind of man people flocked to, and he wore that as naturally as his skin. People knew better than to get too close.
But today was different. Akira was there, standing by the door with a soft smile that hit him like a punch to the gut. The way she looked at him, her eyes bright and her body poised in quiet welcome, stirred something raw in him.
He hated to admit it, but at that moment, the only thing he wanted was to close the distance, pull her close, and let his hands do the talking.
Yeah, call him whatever you want, but he was her husband.
He had every right to her, every inch of her, and she was making it almost impossible to hold back. But hell if he’d let himself act like some meek man, desperate and trailing after a woman, even his own wife.
Still, as she placed his breakfast on the table and served him, he could feel her attention on him, a steady warmth he wasn’t used to.
He’d gone too long without that kind of care, and it gnawed at the iron control he kept around himself.
He dug into the food with the same intensity that he tackled everything else. But despite himself, he couldn’t help stealing glances at her—at the way she moved beside him, her hand brushing his arm now and then, her voice soft but steady.
He grunted his thanks, keeping it brief, but something inside him wanted her to know it was more than that.
She was breaking down his walls, brick by brick, without even realizing it.
YOU ARE READING
"I Do"
RomanceAs she was about to ask Vasco if he needed anything, he began roaming his hands over her body while asking her to prepare breakfast Akira was surprised because his hands were touching her sensitive parts and though he is her husband and he can do th...
