Page 48 of Behind Frenemy Lines

She downed the last of her coffee, putting the mug back on the coffee table. I stared at the shelf of fancy coffee beans acrossfrom us, so my conscience couldn’t accuse me of watching her swallow.

Kriya: “We should get back to the wedding.”

Had been thinking about this. “You don’t have to. I can tell them you’ve had an emergency and had to leave.”

Kriya: “Oh.” She considered it. But after a moment, she shook her head. “Thanks. But I’d rather go back. Loretta and Hayley have been so hospitable. It doesn’t feel right to run out on them.”

CG: “They wouldn’t mind.”

Kriya: “Maybe, but I would. Anyway, I don’t want Tom to think I’ve run away because I’m scared of seeing him.” Raised her chin. “Ihaven’t done anything to be ashamed of.”

A spark glinted in her eye. Made her seem more like the Kriya of every day. It was reassuring.

CG: “If you’re sure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Kriya

I felt alittle less brave, going back to the hotel, than I’d let on to Charles.

His offer to cover for me while I sloped off had been tempting. I’d thought about it for a good five seconds.

But it didn’t feel right to stand him up, when he’d been so decent about everything. Looking back on it now, I couldn’t believe I’d jumped on him like that. In the moment, the only thing I’d cared about was getting out of talking to Tom.

Was that all there was to it, though? There must have been a part of me that wanted Tom to see me in a clinch with another guy.You didn’t hurt me. Look, I’ve got someone new, too.

Poor Charles. Honestly, he’d be in his rights to report me.

At least it had been barely a kiss. It had felt like it had lasted forever, but it had probably only been a few seconds, at most.

His lips had been a little dry, but not unpleasantly so. I could still feel the rasp of his stubble against my chin. The warmth of his breath, and his hands on my back, soothing.

I tore myself out of the memory. It wasn’t going to help me in the task I’d volunteered for—being Charles’s normal, pleasant, cheerful date to the wedding. If that fleeting touch had revived appetites my body had been too sad to notice in thepast six months, that was something I was going to have to deal with another time. In private, with the necessary equipment, and fantasies about someone appropriate—Hyun Bin, or my first crush from primary school, Vijay, who’d grown up to be an incredibly hot ophthalmologist based in Phoenix, Arizona, or literally anybody except the guy I shared an office with.

The dead time between the ceremony and the reception was nearly over. I only had to tough out the dinner. There was dancing after, but Charles would probably be as keen as me to slip away once the cake was cut.

It was surreal rejoining the bustle and merriment of the wedding, with the guests in their fancy dress. I was on edge, seeing Tom in every white guy there, and his new girlfriend in every white woman.

Dinner was in the same room that the ceremony had taken place in, set up now with round tables bearing lavish floral centrepieces: pink and white roses, peonies, ranunculi, and hydrangeas. The effect was only slightly marred by the fact that around the base of each vase of flowers were ranged cartoony little action figures of badminton players.

I scanned the room, but I couldn’t see Tom or Alexis. My shoulders loosened, the tension seeping out of them.

As we took our seats, Charles nodded at the action figures. “Those are the wedding favours.”

On closer inspection, I could see tags tied around the figurines, labelled:Take me home!

“Cute,” I said. “Which one’s the character you’re dressed as?”

“There are three on this table,” and Charles pointed them out to me.

I picked the one of Yamaguchi Kiichiro gazing into the distance, his badminton racquet at the ready, his mouth a resolute line. There was something very Charles about it.

I didn’t speak much to Charles himself, after that. He kept getting summoned away, dashing off on errands for the bridesand their parents. The rest of the table was occupied by Loretta’s university friends, who seemed to know Charles well.

“I’m so glad he’s met you,” said one, a friendly Scottish Chinese doctor. “Charles is great. I’ve been trying to set him up for years, but it’s impossible to pin him down for dates. He’s such a workaholic.”

Her affectionate familiarity with Charles didn’t really fit with his self-image as a friendless loser. He was clearly popular among Loretta’s friends. Maybe he thought that didn’t count.

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