|| Chapter Thirteen ||

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Sitting on the couch in the living room, he had been working on his laptop for the last three hours, sipping his third cup of black coffee. "I need to talk to her right away. Track her phone and get the location. Call me as soon as you know.He was speaking on the phone with someone.

Tracking phones!!! I am so out of my league here.

I am baking chocolate chip cookies for the kids. Tara is sitting by me in the kitchen watching the timer of the oven. She feels an overwhelming need to monitor the whole process when I bake. Manik comes up to the kitchen for refilling his coffee. I don't say anything but I see his lips curve into a crooked small smile from the corner of my eye. He knows I am counting, he knows it is pissing me off. He hasn't eaten anything since morning and was drinking coffee by the litre.

I try not to think about it. I decide to break my news to him now. I don't want him to freak out when I am leaving the house later.

"Manik, I have found a school for the kids. I have an appointment for an interview later today."

He looks at me surprised first, and then thinks about it for a minute before replying. "What's the hurry? It has not even been a week since they came here. Let them transition to here. And we are still finding information about that attack."

"Oh please, they transitioned long back. God knows when you will solve this thing. We can't sit at home idle waiting for you." I frown.

"We?" he asks burrowing his eyebrows.

"I am going back to work too. The publishing firm I used to work for in India, they have a branch here in the city and they said I could keep my job if I want." I say without looking at him.

"And do you want to?" I feel his direct gaze on me.

"Yes, of course." I still don't look up at him. It's not like I need to give him an explanation.

"Nandini, you don't have to work. I earn way too much money anyway. There is no need. You know, I made 300,000$ in the last three hours." He says, a little too happy with himself.

"Good for you."  I smirk sarcastically.

"Oh please don't tell me you are not impressed by that." He grins, sitting beside Tara on a kitchen stool, trying to figure out what she is attentively watching over.

"Humility isn't really your thing, is it? Regardless, my work has nothing to do with you. This is me and my career." I explain.

"After marriage, you said you would not work even if I forced you to and that you only wanted to spend as much time you can in your study room." He reminiscences.

"That was in a previous life. I don't write now. I work in a publishing agency as an editor and I am pretty good at what I do and make pretty good money too." I explain, once again.

"You don't write now? Huh! That is such a shame. You are one of the most talented writers I have known Nandini. You shouldn't give up on your passion." He is lecturing me now.

And only he can be so annoyingly persistent!

"Passion is for losers. It has gotten me nowhere. I am happy with mundane and practical." I don't really mean that. The truth is that I don't feel like writing anymore, I never had the time and even if I did take out the time, nothing comes off from my head anymore. It had all dried up a long time ago.

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