Page 47 of The Plus One
“Dira, we can stay,” Harper whispered, moving to Indira’s side.
“Yeah, we don’t have to go. Do you want us to stay here?” Lizzie asked, big golden eyes warm and comforting.
“I swear, I’m good,” Indira said, rubbing her neck. “I just need some alone time.”
“Jude, you coming?” Collin asked, looping his scarf around his neck.
“Think I’m gonna stay back,” Jude said. “Someone needs to clean this up,” he added, gesturing at the table. “Shouldn’t be the grooms, though, right?”
“You’re too good to us,” Jeremy said, giving Jude’s shoulder a squeeze as he passed by. “But don’t kill yourself over it. I’ll get it organized when we get back.”
Indira glanced at Jude and found him staring right at her, intensity in his dark eyes as he studied her face. That look made her feel far too seen. Far too exposed. She blinked away.
“See you later,” Collin called over his shoulder as he led the group out the front door.
The resulting silence did something to the minimal composure Indira had mustered, and she deflated as the door clicked shut. She stumbled to the couch, plopping down on it and cradling her head in her hands, stinging pain building in her throat and behind her eyes. A few rogue tears slipped out, and, like a dam cracking, she started quietly crying.
Collin was right—she couldn’t get over it. No matter how hard she tried, how much work she put into letting those feelings go, that anger, that hurt, always welled up in her, endlessly deep and shockingly toxic.
Indira was so alone in her misery, she jumped when Jude cleared his throat. She looked up at him, his sharp features in half shadows as he leaned against the wall. He took a step toward her. Then another.
“How…” He cleared his throat again, a touch of color gathering at his cheeks. “I want to help you,” he whispered. “Can you tell me how?”
CHAPTER 18
Jude
Jude wasn’t exactly sure why Indira laughed when he asked how to help her, but at least it stopped her crying. He hated when she cried.
“While I appreciate you being such a diligent fake boyfriend, I’m fine,” she said, voice wobbly.
“You definitely look it,” Jude deadpanned, taking another step toward her as he tried to shake off the prickle of annoyance at the term “fake boyfriend.” That’s what he was to her. It shouldn’t bother him.
Indira snorted, then scrubbed at her tear-stained cheeks.
Her eyes roamed over him. His feet. His nose. His forearms. His eyes. Jude felt her gaze on every corner of his body and it made his skin prickle with awareness.
She patted the cushion next to her, and Jude had to hold his body back from sprinting to the spot. He settled himself with plenty of inches between them, letting the silence linger.
“It pisses me off,” she said at last, waving vaguely toward the table. “Everything about my dad pisses me off. I hate that man so much. And I want Collin to hate him too.” Indira tugged at her fingers, cracking them one at a time.
“I don’t want to see him at my brother’s wedding. I don’t want tohear about his perfect third wife and his new set of perfect twins. I don’t want to see pictures of their perfect house and its perfect lawn and the perfect boat tied to the dock out back. I don’t want to be reminded how, to get all of that, he left us behind.”
Jude had witnessed the eye of the storm when Greg left. The subtle changes in Collin. His paper-thin patience for his sister, the weight of taking care of his mom that he saddled to his shoulders.
He also saw how Indira became so quick to cry in those early days. How she always clung to Jude and Collin with an almost terrified ferocity. Jude hadn’t fully understood their hurt, but respected it, nonetheless.
Indira was silent for another moment, a fresh, fat teardrop slipping out, her long lashes spiky as they rested heavily on the tops of her cheeks.
Jude wasn’t sure what came over him, but he scooched closer, wrapping an arm around Indira’s hunched shoulders.
She trembled slightly, but, after a moment, leaned into him—only the tiniest bit—her warmth spreading across his chest.
“No matter how many years pass, it still feels as fresh as the day he walked out,” Indira whispered against his chest. “And Collin’s right, I’m not over it. And I don’t know why I can’t find that closure. But having him at the wedding, being charismatic and charming and stepping right in to this shiny role of supportive dad makes me furious. We weren’t enough for him as kids, but suddenly him gracing us with his presence at their special day will make up for the constant messes he left behind?”
“You two were—are—more than enough,” Jude said, his voice a rough growl. “He’s the one that didn’t come up to scratch.”
“Clearly not,” Indira said with a bitter laugh, brushing the tears off her cheeks. “Because he’s happy and thriving and living this lovely cookie-cutter life and I resent him so fucking much for it. I wish I didn’t care. Why can’t I stop caring?”
