Page 68 of Adrift

“And at first, I thought, maybe it was a phase. When she got pregnant, I thought maybe it was hormonal. Turns out, it was none of those things.” I take a shaky breath. “I think it was just me. She was just over me.”

Rani turns around, sitting up on her knees before grasping my face with both hands. She brings her face closer and I see tears pool in her eyes. “It wasn’t you.” Her voice is hoarse. “It couldn’t have been you, because I see you, Darian. I see the way you love. I see the boy you’re raising and the way you care for him so fiercely.” She shakes her head, her curls falling against my chest. “It wasn’t you; it was her, and I’m sorry on her behalf. I’m sorry that she couldn’t see you for who you are.”

I pull a strand of her springy hair, watching as it curls around my finger so perfectly, as if it was made to do just that. “She used to and then she didn’t”

Rani nods. “I get that. I really do. Not in the same way, but I know the feeling.” She sniffs. “Because she used to care about me, too . . . and then she didn’t.”

“She talked about you sometimes,” I tell her, hoping to chase away some of her gloom. “She said you were beautiful and bright, but you just needed to realize that you were your own advocate. That you were the only one who could fight for yourself against all those people–including your mom–who would hurt you.” I remember the way Sonia would smile when she thought about her sister. She missed her. “I know she tried to get in touch with you . . . but I honestly think she reconsidered because of your mom. She didn’t want her finding out and for you to have that drama in your life.”

Rani sighs. “Yeah, well, I lost a lot more than potential drama, didn’t I? I lost a chance to get to know my sister, too.”

When I have no response, she slips back under the covers, her back to me again.

“Rani?” I squeeze my eyes shut when she stays silent before turning toward her and brushing the pads of my fingers over her neck.

I see her body relax and she finally turns around. She hides her face in the crook of my neck, wrapping her arms around my waist, and I feel her wet cheek on my skin, lighting a fire inside me.

It kills me.

I pull back from her, scanning her face–her eyes shut tight–before wiping her tears. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head as a sob emits from her throat. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry she hurt you.”

I’m not sure when I fall asleep, but between the comfort of her arms around me, her face planted under my chin, and her hair tangled between my fingers, I can’t recall the last time I slept so well.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rani

The morning sunlight streams in through the gaps around the window and my eyes flicker open. For a second, I don’t know where I am. I turn, seeing the lily stem on the nightstand and the memories of last night come flooding back.

There’s an indentation the size of Darian on my bed, but sliding my hand on the cool sheets, I can tell he’s been long gone. I disconnect my phone from the charger and bring it to my face to look at the time. Nine-thirteen. I’m supposed to be at the nursing home by ten-thirty since we’re planting flowers around the property today.

I rub sleep out of my eyes using the heel of my palm before getting up on the bed. My eyes feel puffy, a crusty film caked in the corners from falling asleep crying.

Darian’s confession and pain broke me last night. The melancholy in his voice, the unshed tears, the way he was there but not really. No one should have to carry that kind of burden on their own.

Even though I hadn’t heard from my sister much before she died–and when I thought I’d get to meet her, she never showed up–I assumed she was happy. Because why else would anyone sacrifice their family, if not for more happiness? And from Darian’s words, it seemed they found happiness for a while, at least before things changed between them.

It shouldn’t surprise me that he was another casualty in whatever war Sonia had set out to win, but it does. It does because what I see in him is a man hellbent on persevering through storms. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have tried to save their marriage. And maybe Arman was going to be their refuge from the upheaval they were both experiencing, but who’s to say he could have saved them?

Then there was that cryptic text . . ..

Forgetting about being late, I flip my phone to the my messages app, scrolling down to find the last messages I exchanged with Sonia.

Sonia: I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to see you today. Something came up and I needed to see my doctor, but hopefully, after this baby is here, we can both visit you.

I scroll further up, past the messages where I asked her where she was, while I waited for her at the coffee shop we agreed to meet in, only to be disappointed. I quickly scan the selfie she sent me of her big belly, pregnant with my nephew. She’s wearing some sort of bright yellow dress from what I can tell based on the cropped picture of just her chest and belly. Her left hand is holding her stomach–a few rings on her fingers, but interestingly, none on her ring finger. I never noticed it before, but I suppose I have a new perspective.

I finally find the texts I’m searching for, dated a couple of months before she died. And just like the previous time I read it, it does nothing to settle my unease.

Sonia: I’ve decided to tell Darian. It’s not something I can keep from him any longer, and I think it’s about time we face the consequences, don’t you? I think you should tell Em. She’ll find out soon anyway.

I’d responded to her text with a, What?

She replied a minute later, but I recall staring at the text in complete confusion.

Sonia: Sorry about that. That wasn’t meant for you.

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