Page 70 of Adrift

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I’m rolling a cart of flowers into the garden at the nursing home when my phone buzzes inside my pocket.

Karine: You are coming to my house for dinner tonight. Six p.m.

I stop the cart and smile before responding to the text. I don’t think I’ve ever read a text from Karine that hasn’t made me smile.

Me: I am?

Karine: Yes. Darian and Arman are joining, too.

A small pang of hurt hits me between the ribs when I read her response. I hate that I expected Darian’s text or call all day today. I hate that I looked at my phone five times an hour, just to see if maybe I’d missed a message from him. Even Fred called me out for being distracted by ‘the handsome brother-in-law.’

I suppose after the heavy conversation we shared last night, I thought we’d crossed a bridge. I thought maybe we’d progressed in our relationship or whatever this is. But maybe he didn’t feel the same way?

Maybe I came across as nothing more than a clingy, insecure, inexperienced girl, and he wanted to distance himself from me.

The feeling of embarrassment at the way I acted last night has increased all day. The fact that he hasn’t even acknowledged our conversation has me cringing inside, humiliated by the memory of sending him a text to come cuddle–seriously, why couldn’t lightning have struck me down before I messaged him that? And then I clung to him in my bed like I couldn’t breathe without his skin plastered to my face! How could I have acted like such a ten-year-old?

I’d hoped that maybe seeing him in the morning would have given me an indication as to how he was feeling, but the house was empty when I came downstairs. And since then, it’s been nothing but radio-silence from him–a suffocating silence I can’t seem to rise above.

I look back at Karine’s text. Darian’s clearly spoken to her about dinner so I know he’s alive, but I can’t deny that it doesn’t pinch to find out from her that he’ll be there. Maybe I’m a fool for expecting him to have messaged me himself to tell me.

Maybe I’m just a fool, period.

With my heart in my throat, I message her back.

Me: Okay. I’ll be there.

A link to Karine’s home address comes through next.

Karine: Here’s the address.

Karine:

And even as tears prick the corners of my eyes, I can’t help but giggle, knowing she meant to use the index finger emoji instead.

* * *

I ring the doorbell, feeling my nerves fire away inside my body. I’m not sure why I’m nervous, but I suppose the fact that Darian or Arman weren’t home when I went back to take a shower and change this evening has me feeling on edge.

After the nursing home, I told myself I’d talk to Darian at home and maybe we’d go to Karine’s together, but the house was as empty as I’d left it this morning. Wow, he’s working really hard to stay out of my way.

I swallow my anxiety and square my shoulders as the door opens, and I see Darian’s dad for the first time since I moved here.

“Rani!” His voice booms as he opens the door with the brightest blue eyes and smile I’ve ever seen.

Clearly, one of his sons fell far from that tree.

“Come in, come in!” He takes the flowers I brought before leaning over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “I’m Marvin. I have heard so much about you.”

“Thank you for having me,” I say softly as a squeal erupts inside what seems to be their family room.

Arman comes wobbling to my legs with his arms outstretched and a smile very much as bright as his grandfather’s. “Mas!”

I bend down to pick him up and give him a huge kiss before he’s had enough and wiggles out of my arms.

Darian’s dad studies our interaction with interest. “He is quite attached to you.”

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