Page 29 of Ansel

I laughed, stepping forward to kiss her cheek before reaching for my niece. “Time for some kisses, Aashi,” I cooed, scooping the toddler into my arms. She gurgled happily, resting her tiny hands against my shoulders.

“Tell me everything,” Sanya demanded, setting the spoon down and turning to face me. “How’s the M&A world treating you? Less backstabbing? Fewer soulless executives?”

I rolled my eyes but grinned. “A lot less backstabbing, a lot more passion.”

Sanya’s husband, Devlin, walked in from the living room, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder. “You look happy.” He kissed my cheek. “New job is going well then?”

“Yep!” I bounced Aashi in my arms. “It’s different, you know? Slower but more precise, no hurrying for the sake of it. I like it. I don’t miss Sterling at all.”

I didn’t miss the exhausting late nights, the cutthroat competition, the feeling of constantly being one misstep away from irrelevance.

“The only thing you’d miss would be Ansel and since he’s following you around like a puppy, I can see why you’ve moved on from high finance,” Sanya teased.

“He’s not a puppy,” I retorted.

“Oh, yes, he is,” Devlin remarked.

Devlin and Sanya met Ansel by accident a few days ago. He and I had been getting ice cream on Sunday near my place—just two blocks from where they lived—when they happened to walk by with the kids.

Despite howgoodthings were, I still hadn’t given Ansel the green light to be more than friendly. There were times when we almost kissed but I didn’t let it go any further. Something was preventing me from taking a step with him—from dating-dating him.

Sanya caught the hesitation in my voice immediately, her gaze sharpening. “What?”

I sighed, shifting Aashi to one hip. “Ansel.”

“Just give the guy a break, stubborn woman,” Devlin pleaded.

“Mind your own beeswax,” I muttered.

“Since I’m not welcome here”—Devlin feigned being hurt—“I’m going to check on Rohan, and then he and I are going to set the table.”

“Rohan can’t walk, babe, I don’t think he can set anything,” Sanya joked.

“He can watch me set the table then. You two get the Ansel Situation out of the way before dinner.” With that he made a production of kissing his wife and walking out of the kitchen.

“He’s such a drama queen,” I muttered.

Sanya chuckled. “He liked him. He doesn’t understand why you won’t just give in and date him.”

I frowned, brushing my fingers over Aashi’s tiny curls. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” My sister rested her hip against the counter. “Neha, from where I’m standing, when a guy swallows his pride, calls out his workplace for being toxic, publicly admits he was wrong, and then comes to your doorstep to confess his feelings—that’s not complicated, Neha. That’s a man who’s all in.”

I exhaled, pressing my lips together. “He hurt me, Sanya.”

“I know.” She softened. “But people hurt people, it happens. Dev and I have been married for ten years and trust me there have been times I’ve thought about finding his service weapon. That’s life. That’s how relationships work.”

“I was humiliated, Sanya. It was…I can’t go through that again.”

“Why would you? Do you really think he’s such a dumb fool that he’s going to fuck up like that? And if that was his intent, why is he chasing you so hard?” Sanya exhaled sharply and shook her head. “Look, either you move on or you don’t. But this push and pull is not helping either of you. If you still love him, which I know you do, why are you punishing himandyourself from having what you both could have?”

I had no answer for that.

Sanya reached over and squeezed my hand. “Remember what Mummy used to say?”

“Fear is the mind killer,” I immediately recited.

Mummy was a big Frank Herbert fan, and her favorite book wasDune.

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