Sandalwood Pt. 02 by FlynnTalwar,FlynnTalwar

“Oh hey, I made tea,” she said, pouring him a mug. “Already added the milk and sugar just how you like it.” He gripped the mug, rehearsing what he was going to say.

“I have a question for you,” Cole started. “Do you remember the night we met in the bar?”

“I do,” Maya smiled, sipping from her own mug. “Do you, though?”

“No, not exactly,” he replied. “That’s what I wanted to ask you. I remember asking why you still wore your marriage necklace and never divorced your husband, but I don’t remember your answer.” Maya froze and slowly set her mug down on the counter.

“Well,” she said, “I thought it would be easier on the kids. If they saw me without it, they would think it’s over and their dad’s really not coming back.”

“So it isn’t over and their dad is coming back?”

“Anything can happen,” Maya replied after an awkward silence, looking away for a moment. “He left rather quickly, and the fact that he still texts to let us know he’s okay might mean he’ll return one day.” Cole suddenly felt woozy.

“Hold on,” he said, a note of anger creeping into his voice. “You’re still holding a torch for him yet at the same time you’re fucking another man in his house? Do I have that right?” Maya bristled.

“I–”

“Are you telling me that I’ve been nothing but a fuck buddy to you for the last six months? There was nothing beyond that for you?”

“Cole,” Maya’s voice grew quiet. “We’re not compatible in the long run.”

“Not compatible? Are you fucking kidding me, Maya?” Cole burst out. His nausea was morphing into rage. “I have never felt more in sync with anyone else in my life, not even the woman I married. And you’re essentially telling me you knew there was an expiry date for us the moment we…” he closed his eyes and shook his head at the pot lights on the ceiling.

“Of course. Of course! That’s why you never wanted to go out to dinner nearby–you didn’t want to risk being seen with me by anyone you knew.”

“No, that–”

“And why you always tell me to park in the garage instead of in the driveway.”

“That was–”

“Fuck, I guess I’m two for two now,” he thundered, unable to recall where he’d left his wallet and keys earlier that day. “Mark was right. I’m Jack. I’m the asshole who won’t give a damn what he’s taking away from some other man as long as he gets what he wants.” He wandered around the living room looking for his things, anxious to leave.

“I’m the guy who’ll waste a whole year mooning over another guy fucking my wife in my bed, then turn around and do the very same thing the first chance I get. I knew you were still married and I went looking for you anyway. Why the hell do I do this?” he asked himself out loud.

“Why do I keep falling in love with women who are emotionally unavailable and then imagine we’ll have a perfect life? Jesus, where the fuck are my keys?”

Cole bounded up the stairs, suddenly aware they might have fallen out of his pocket in the bedroom. He found them and returned to a flummoxed Maya, who was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the mud room.

“You have to stop,” she said, her arms braced against the doorframe.

“I’m sorry,” Cole replied, “I have to go. I know you cooked for us but I’ve lost my appetite.”

“No, Cole, you really have to stop this. Running out of the room and getting drunk is not how we’re going to do it this time.”

“You’ve told me everything I need to know, Maya.”

“I barely said anything before it struck me we may not be on the same page!”

“Ya think?” Cole said sarcastically. “I thought we had something and then I find out you’re just in this to get some strange on the side.”

“I thought you were in this to get some strange on the side!” Maya exclaimed. Cole raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. “I thought–what did you just say before you ran upstairs?”

“Being fuckbuddies?”

“After that.”

“I’m Jack?”

“After that.”

“I’m not hungry?”

“No, about falling in love with the wrong women. Are you in love with me?”

“No, I only spend more time here than school and my own apartment combined because I can’t get enough of the decor,” Cole said, exasperated. “Maya, I’ve probably been in love with you since I taught the boys almost a decade ago.”

“I love you too, Cole,” Maya said softly, dropping her arms from the doorframe and wrapping them around him. Cole was bewildered but slowly placed his arms on her back.

“Okay… maybe you’re right and I haven’t let you talk enough,” he said. “I’m not getting this. You’re waiting for your husband to come back but you love me too? You can’t have it both ways, Maya.”

“I’m not waiting for him to come back,” she said, switching off the range hood and removing the saucepans from the heat. “I only said anything could happen because I didn’t want you to think I expected us to have a future together.”

“But why wouldn’t we?” Cole asked. Maya sighed and sat down at the table.

“Ram and I had an arranged marriage. Our families introduced us, we met, we went out a couple of times. Then we decided we liked each other enough and the wedding was set.” She played with her empty tea mug.

“I know it’s not typical for someone born and raised here to go that route, but I’d dated before and I learned that loving someone and being compatible with them were not always the same thing.” Cole joined her at the table, dropping his keys on the counter.

“So I thought this was going to work, for sure,” Maya continued. “We had the same background, spoke the same languages, we were educated about the same, we both wanted kids and a mortgage and a quiet life in the suburbs. And I tried to be the perfect wife, tolerating a lot more from his family than most women with my options would tolerate. And he still changed his mind about me.” Maya’s eyes darted around the tablecloth, unable to look up at Cole, who was observing her intently.

“I said what I said just now about us not being compatible because if you stay with me, one day you’re going to miss having a Christmas tree in your house and having presents and the whole shebang. You’re going to want to have a glass of wine or a beer now and then with the woman you’re with. You’re going to wish I would bake you a turkey–”

“Roast.”

“–roast you a turkey. Wait, we bake cookies and bread in the oven but we don’t bake turkeys?” she asked. Cole laughed, his heart calming down.

“Forget the turkey. What I hear you saying is you thought we’d have an end date because if your perfect husband left you, this imperfect Christmas-loving, booze-guzzling carnivore would do the same?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Maya smiled. Cole reached for her hand across the table.

“Look, I’m not a kid anymore,” he told her. “I do the presents and the tree for Izzy but I only liked Christmas because it was the one time of year everyone I loved stayed together and cooked together and ate and laughed together. No one had to get up and go to work, and all we did for days was have fun as a family. I’ve done that with you for months now, every time we see each other.” Maya still didn’t look up at him but was blinking hard.

“Moreover,” Cole went on, “If Izzy wants all the bells and whistles, she can have Christmas at her mom’s. Or she and I can go to my brother and his husband’s place for Christmas. I don’t want to not be with you for 364 days a year because we might want to do different things on that one day.

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