Chapter 60: The wives commune then Bruce does with his God
The silence after Lena’s stark recital was absolute, thick as the humid night air. Only the chirping geckos and the distant, rhythmic sigh of the ocean filled the space. Plates sat half-finished, the vibrant Balinese feast momentarily forgotten. All eyes, sharp with varying shades of intensity, swivelled towards Ketut. She sat small and composed at the table, her dark eyes distant, focused on something unseen. Her delicate fingers traced the rim of her water glass, her expression unreadable, a conduit to deeper currents.
Bruce waited, his swirling hazel eyes fixed on her, the colors shifting subtly – greens and blues deepening. He didn’t prompt. He simply watched the woman who saw with spirit-eyes.
Ketut finally blinked, her gaze clearing, focusing first on Bruce, then sweeping slowly around the table. "TheThe air in the villa was thick with tension, the kind that buzzed beneath the skin like a low-voltage current. The wives were gathered in the open-air living room, the infinity pool glinting under the moonlight behind them. Ketut sat cross-legged on the floor, her small, lithe body radiating calm despite the weight of the moment. Her dark eyes were closed, her hands resting on her knees as if she were meditating, but everyone knew she was seeing something—something only she could perceive.
Bruce stood by the edge of the room, his muscular frame tense, his swirling hazel eyes shifting between gold and green. He watched Ketut, waiting, his jaw tight. The wives were spread around the space, each in their own posture of anticipation. Camille leaned against the wall, her thick legs crossed at the ankles, her olive skin glowing in the soft light. Lena perched on the arm of a chair, her legendary curves accentuated by the way she shifted her weight. Jasmine stood with her arms crossed, her green eyes sharp, her model-like beauty almost intimidating. Erika sat on the edge of the pool, her pale skin luminous under the moon, her deep blue eyes fixed on Ketut. Sophia and Priya sat side by side, their bodies a study in contrasts—Sophia’s toned athleticism next to Priya’s voluptuous curves.
Ketut’s eyes fluttered open, and the room seemed to hold its breath. “I see a circle,” she said softly, her voice carrying a weight that silenced even the distant hum of the ocean. “A circle that expands. It’s not just us anymore. There’s more. More love, more life, more… everything.”
Camille was the first to speak, her voice steady but laced with curiosity. “More? What do you mean, more? We’re already a family. A big one.”
Ketut turned to her, her expression calm but insistent. “The circle is meant to grow. It’s part of the prophecy. We’ve always known this.”
Jasmine stepped forward, her tall frame commanding attention. “But who? Who’s supposed to join us? And why now?”
Ketut’s gaze shifted to Bruce, and for a moment, it felt like the room’s energy centered on him. “It’s not just about who,” she said. “It’s about what they bring. Balance. Strength. Unity.”
Erika spoke next, her Icelandic accent soft but firm. “We’ve worked so hard to build what we have. Are we ready for this? Are we ready to share what we’ve created?”
Lena’s voice cut through the tension, her tone fierce but not unkind. “It’s not about sharing. It’s about expanding. We’re not losing anything. We’re gaining.”
Sophia nodded, her Spanish accent adding a musical lilt to her words. “And if it’s part of the prophecy, then it’s meant to be. We’ve trusted it this far. Why stop now?”
Priya, usually the quietest of the group, leaned forward, her dark eyes thoughtful. “But we have to be careful. This isn’t just about us anymore. There are children now. Our children. We have to think about what’s best for them, too.”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over everyone. Bruce stepped forward, his voice low but commanding. “We’ll decide together. All of us. That’s how we’ve always done it. That’s how it’ll always be.”
The wives exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Camille nodded. “Alright. Together.”
The tension in the room eased, but Bruce could still feel the undercurrent of uncertainty. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he also knew they didn’t have a choice. The prophecy wasn’t just a guide—it was a force, one they couldn’t ignore.
Later that night, after the wives and children were asleep, Bruce stood alone in the villa’s garden. The moon hung heavy in the sky, its light casting long shadows across the lush greenery. He closed his eyes, focusing on the hum of the ocean and the scent of frangipani. He needed guidance, and he knew where to find it.
“Naga,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Show me. Show me what I need to see.”
The air around him shifted, growing warmer, thicker. He felt the familiar presence of the serpent god, a force both ancient and eternal. His vision blurred, then cleared, and he was no longer in the garden. He was in a place that felt both real and unreal, a space where time and space seemed to fold in on themselves.
He saw his wives, all of them, their bodies glowing with an otherworldly light. They were surrounded by children—some he recognized, others he didn’t. And there, standing among them, was Elara. She held the hands of two small children, her expression one of pure, radiant joy.
The vision shifted, and he saw more—more wives, more children, more love. It was overwhelming, but also beautiful. A circle that never ended, a family that kept growing.
The voice of the Naga god echoed in his mind, deep and resonant. *Do you remember this vision, Bruce? This is your future. Wives and children everywhere. If you choose to expand the circle, ensure you choose wisely.*
Bruce nodded, his chest tight with emotion. “I understand, Naga. But I don’t choose on my own. My wives and I decide together.”
The god’s approval washed over him, warm and reassuring. *That is very wise, chosen vessel. I approve.*
The vision faded, and Bruce found himself back in the garden. The moon was still high, the ocean still humming in the distance. He took a deep breath, the scent of frangipani filling his lungs. He knew what he had to do.
He just hoped the others would agree.