Page 35 of One Night Only

I laugh, glad to see her personality shining through the grief that still clouds her eyes. “But you haven’t been completely welcoming of her efforts to get close to you?”

She shakes her head, fingertips dancing over my jaw. “You, Dr. Cross, are far too perceptive.”

“More like I use the common sense I have,” I say, warmed by her compliment.

She giggles, but it’s hollow. And having known the real thing, I hate it. “Right? You’d think more people would use it.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

“A few years ago, I’d have welcomed Asha’s efforts. I wanted to be just like my big sister growing up. She’s beautiful and brilliant.”

“You’ve said,” I say dryly.

It escapes the woman staring into the dark night. “Amit was already in college when I was in elementary. Asha and Akash were too busy for me. I mean, I don’t blame them because they were high schoolers. But it’s not just the age difference. My parents have these important, distinguished careers… I’ve always felt like an outsider with all of them. Some bad stuff happened after my eighteenth birthday, and none of them tried to understand the situation I was in. I had to get away fromthem.” Her breath is a shudder that shakes her. “Anyway, I’ve been wary of her efforts to reconnect.”

I lean back, rubbing at the tight knots in her shoulders. A picture emerges for me, little snippets of everything she told me, everything I know of her from eleven months, falling into place. There’s a lot missing, but “the black sheep” comment and how she talks about her siblings is telling.

A quiet rage settles into my bones toward her parents. I mean, I would never win thebest parent medalwith Jonah, an infrequent visitor that I was during his younger years. But this sounds like actively harming their youngest child.

I lock it away, though. It’s not the time or my place to comment on her relationship with her family. Clearly, it’s a minefield. And more importantly, I can hear her longing for that close relationship with her sister.

“What was the news she gave you on the call?”

“Asha’s engaged,” she whispers. “She’s been seeing this really sweet guy for a while now. She invited me a couple of times to come meet him, but I made excuses. Anyway, she said he proposed at midnight. And I am the first person she called.” Ani’s slender frame expands as if this small bit of news fills her with happiness and hope. “They plan to have a small wedding soon, and she wants me by her side as much as possible.”

“You want to be there?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“That’s wonderful.” Relief softens my grip on her. “I hear a but, though.”

“For once in my life, I made proactive plans to fix things with my parents and everyone else. This summer, moving back to Seattle, was the beginning of cleaning up my act. But now…”

“What’s changed?”

“There’s no way I can resolve all the mess I’ve made with them in time for the wedding. Which means I’ll have to carry on with the way things are.”

She’s referring to the fact that her sister and her family think that she’s already a trained nurse working at a hospital. It’s an elaborate lie to not only tell your family but to sustain for years. I could hazard a guess that it was the pain of living up to their expectations, to want to fit in, to seek that sense of belonging that all of us crave, that pushed her to it.

The problem solver in me is dying to grill her about it so that I can find the best, and the least painful, solution for her. For a man who’s spent most of his life alone and liked it, the urge to interfere is startling in its intensity.

“Maybe they will welcome a resolution with you before the wedding, Ani? Would be nice to have all the family together with no outstanding conflict, no?”

“No, it’s exactly how I would have behaved earlier. Uncaring of how it would affect anyone else. It’s what they will expect of me. And I can’t ruin Asha’s happiness. That she asked…”

“Tell me,” I say, wrapping my fingers around her neck, keeping her tethered to me.

“It’s big.” Her breath is still shaky. “Asha’s perfect and popular, and she has a bunch of interesting friends in high places. But she asked me.”

The disbelief in her words is painful to hear, and I tighten my arms around her. Her body, still warm from sleep, melts into me like she belongs there. But how we fit together is clearly the last thing on her mind.

I rest my chin on her head, breathing her in, letting her settle. The world outside is finally quiet. But in here, with Ani trembling in my arms, I feel like I’m on a roller coaster.

My gut instinct that she has a lot going on in her life is on point. Selfishly, I want to nudge and sift through it to make a place for myself. No, I want to be the center of her universe.

“You said she’s been trying really hard to reconnect. That means she wants you there, Ani.”

She exhales, unsteady but lighter, like maybe she’s starting to believe it.

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