LITMIR.BIZ

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this evening. And the rest is ingredients to make meals. Eggs, vegetables, that sort of thing.’

      ‘There was some meat in the freezer.’

      Rosa closed the fridge. ‘She’s thought of everything, hasn’t she?’

      ‘She generally does,’ Aaron said and handed her the drink. She braced herself for the contact, but it didn’t help. A spark flared anyway. She’d never really been able to come to terms with the attraction she felt for him. That she’d felt for him since day one.

      Or with your love for him, a voice whispered in her head, reminding her of why she’d had to leave—before either of those things had tempted her into staying.

      Staying wouldn’t have done either of them any good.

      ‘She just doesn’t think about consequences.’

      ‘Oh, I think she knows.’ She removed the foil that covered the top of the dish and found a rice and chicken meal of some kind. She took out two plates and, without asking him if he wanted any, dished portions for both of them. ‘That there are consequences, I mean.’

      ‘But she never stops to consider what those consequences might be.’ His voice was steady, but there was frustration there. He’d never been able to hide it completely when he was talking about his mother. ‘You know how many times I’ve had to deal with consequences that weren’t favourable. Like the time she gave her car to a guy she met at a conference she attended.’

      Rosa nodded. ‘She thought it would be easier for him to get to his job in the city if he had a car. And that would make sure he didn’t lose his job, and that he’d be able to look after his family.’

      ‘Instead, the man still lost his job because he couldn’t drive, and he ended up selling the car, which then got him into trouble with the police because she hadn’t transferred the car into his name.’

      ‘And you had to sort it all out,’ she said softly. The microwave sounded, and she handed Aaron the heated plate before putting in her own. ‘I’m sorry, ba—’

      She stopped herself. She’d been about to call him ‘baby’. And it wouldn’t have been like the ‘honey’ he’d called her when she’d first tried to leave. No, that had been said sardonically. This? This would have been said lovingly. Endearingly.

      It was because of the routine she’d slipped into. Dishing for him, heating his food. Normal parts of what had been their life before. But that life was gone. She’d walked away from it. It didn’t matter why or how—she had. Which meant accepting that she couldn’t just slip back into routine.

      The microwave finished heating her food and she used it as an excuse to turn her back to him. To ignore the emotion that was swirling inside her.

      ‘You didn’t change,’ he said into the silence that had settled in the room. She took her plate and drink to the couch and tried to figure out how to sit down without the slit revealing her leg.

      ‘No,’ she replied after a moment, and then gave up and lowered to the seat. She set her food on the coffee table in front of them, covered as much leg as she could and then took a long sip of the drink before she answered him. ‘As I predicted, there were only a couple of shirts in there and jeans. The jeans wouldn’t fit me.’

      He settled at the opposite end of the couch. ‘You could have worn one of the shirts.’

      She lifted a brow. ‘And that wouldn’t have been...distracting?’

      ‘What you’re wearing now isn’t?’

      His eyes lowered to the leg she’d been trying to cover, and then moved up to her cleavage.

      ‘I’ll go change,’ she said in a hoarse voice, setting her drink down.

      ‘No, you don’t have to.’

      His gaze lifted to her face, though his expression didn’t do anything to help the flush that was slowly making its way through her body.

      ‘It’s probably for the best.’

      ‘Are you afraid I’ll do something neither of us wants?’

      ‘No.’

       Because both of us would want it.

      ‘I just think it would be better for us not to...cross any boundaries.’

      ‘Are there boundaries?’ he asked casually, though she wasn’t fooled by it. She could hear the danger beneath the façade. ‘I didn’t realise a married couple had boundaries.’

      ‘That’s not quite what we are now, though.’

      ‘No? Did I miss the divorce papers you sent to me while you were in Cape Town?’

      Bile churned in her stomach. ‘There are no divorce papers.’ She frowned. ‘You knew where I was?’

      He nodded. ‘I needed to make sure you were okay.’

      She closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’

      ‘That I’d want to know that you were alive?’

      ‘I took my clothes. I thought—’ She broke off as shame filled her. ‘I should have let you know.’

      A chill swept over her as she took in his blank expression. ‘You said we aren’t quite married, but you haven’t asked for a divorce.’ He stopped, though she clearly heard the yet he hadn’t said. ‘Which is it, Rosa?’

      And, though his expression was still clear of emotion, the danger in his voice was coming out in full now. She swallowed and reached for her drink again.

      ‘I don’t want to get into this,’ she said after she’d taken another healthy sip. She’d need a refill soon if she went on like this.

      ‘You can’t get out of it. We’re stuck here.’

      ‘I know.’ Couldn’t forget it if she tried. ‘I also know that if we start talking about this stuff, being trapped here is going to be a lot harder than it needs to be.’

      ‘Stuff,’ he repeated softly. Her eyes met his and she saw the anger there. ‘Is that what you call leaving me after five years of being together? After three years of marriage?’

      ‘I call it life,’ she replied sharply. ‘Life happened, and I had to go.’ She stood. ‘There’s no point in rehashing it now.’

      He stood with her, and the body she’d always loved cast a shadow over her. ‘Where are you going to go, Rosa?’ he asked. ‘There’s nowhere to run. This room is open-plan. The only other room is the bathroom, and even then you wouldn’t be able to stay there for ever.’

      She took a step back. Lowered to the couch slowly. ‘You’re taking too much joy from this.’

      ‘This isn’t joy.’ He sat back down, though his body didn’t relax. She nearly rolled her eyes. What did he think he was going to have to do? Tackle her if she tried to get past him?

      ‘What would you call it then?’

      ‘Satisfaction. Karma.’

      ‘Karma?’ she said with a bark of laughter. ‘I didn’t realise you believed in karma.’

      ‘I didn’t. Until today. Now. When it’s become clear how much you want to run from this—from me—and can’t.’

      Now she did roll her eyes. ‘And what are you paying for? What did you do that was so bad that you deserve to be locked in a room with the wife who left you?’

      His features tightened. ‘Maybe I don’t believe in karma then.’

      ‘Sounds like you’re taking the easy way out.’

      ‘Or like I’m doing whatever the hell suits me.’ His voice

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