Vik (Shot Callers 2)

He said he would come, so I wasn’t too surprised when I heard his car pull up out front. What did surprise me was the fact that he used his key, and when he let himself in wearing a wide smile over a bruised chin and semi-swollen nose, well, that did surprise me.

Vik found me in the kitchen, sitting at my table with a hot mug of tea in my hands.

“Hey, baby.” He came around to where I sat, leaned down, and kissed my brow before walking past me. It was so casual that I blinked. “You good?”

My brow furrowed at the sudden change in his demeanor. After all, the night before, he was downright forlorn. My response was drawn out, “Better.”

His body hung out of my fridge. “Nice,” he uttered, taking out a soda and opening it before coming to sit opposite me with a happy beam. “See? I knew it was nothing serious. All you needed was a good yak.”

“Right.” I couldn’t have helped the way my eyes narrowed on him if I tried. “You know, for a guy who looks like a beat-up turd, you seem really pleased.”

“Do I?” He blinked innocently.

“Yeah, you do,” I muttered, lifting my tea to my lips and blowing on it before taking a sip. “Don’t get me wrong; it’s nice to see you like this, but it has me wondering, is all.”

“I just…” His expression was purely joyful. “I just have to tell someone.”

Okay.

He licked his lips, looking about as nervous as I’d ever seen him. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. I eyed it curiously before I chanced another longing glance at the man I loved. He jerked his chin toward the paper, and I took it, my nimble fingers unfolding the printout. I read the words slowly, carefully, shuffling to sit up properly as a small smile graced my lips.

“Vik,” I breathed out, awestruck, looking up to find him smiling proudly.

“I got accepted.”

He sounded as though he could hardly believe it himself. And I hated that.

This man… this beautiful man… he was worth everything. He deserved it all. This strong, selfless man, who gave me the world with a kiss and buried me with those same lips.

“So,” he began, and I looked up into his anxious face. “What do you think?”

My silence was completely unintentional.

His smile fell slightly. “Baby,” he said in that way that slayed me each and every time. “Should I do it?”

Should he do it?

He was asking me as though my opinion was the only one that mattered, and though that warmed my frigid heart like nobody’s business, this just added to his already full plate. I knew that with this newest commitment, something else would have to be scraped off.

Likely me.

The seconds passed slowly, and still, he watched me, wanting my approval. Craving it.

I swallowed through the pain. “Yeah.” Blinking, I forced a smile and shook myself out of my stupor. A little more enthusiastic this time. “Yes. Of course you should do it, Vik.” The words sounded strained to my ears. “This is an amazing opportunity. Y-You have to do it.”

I wondered if they sounded strained to him.

His wide, comforted smile told me it hadn’t. “I’m a little shook but kind of jazzed. Between work and everything else, time is gonna be an issue. Classes run during the day, and the best part is that majority of the work can be done online at your own pace, so I can still manage…”

He went off on a tangent, but I couldn’t hear the words over the blood rushing through my ears. So, I gave him my smile, my attention, and my reluctant approval.

I held in my heartbreak for close to forty minutes, up until the time he stood, then pulled me up and into his arms, his embrace silently thanking me for being there for him. I closed my eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of him, taking comfort where I could.

Numb to the core, I watched him go, and it took me a second to realize I’d been standing alone in the foyer a lot longer than necessary.

When I came back to earth, I made my way up the stairs and into the bathroom, where I picked up the blue-and-white stick, staring down at the eight little letters that had already changed my life.

Positive.

26

Vik

I was tired. Worn to the bone. Spread thinner than butter on toast during the Depression. I was relieved to be home after a long day but the moment I walked inside, the tight expressions on my parents’ faces had me pausing midstep.

The atmosphere. The air around us. It all felt off. And when I proceeded to enter the living room, I saw the problem with my own eyes.