On the drive home, Marley tuned her mother out. Mom was just talking about herself anyway. About how the traffic on the highway might make her late for her volunteer shift cooking meals for seniors at the prayer hall. About how her father started playing pickleball, so Mom had to do laundry more often. About anything except how Marley was healing.
But Momdidtake her to the doctor today. And being at the hospital had to be hard for her after her own surgery and cancer treatment. Maybe Marley shouldn’t expect her mother to be anything but who she always was.
The first thing Marley did when she walked into her house—after scratching McQueen’s ears—was take a shower. And it was as glorious as she’d expected. Even if she couldn’t shave her legs or shampoo her hair (which was fine—Reena had washed her hair yesterday), it was amazing to have water running over her whole body. Afterward, since no drains meant she didn’t need the mastectomy shirts anymore, she took out the designer loungewear she’d bought from Reid’s the day after she’d finally been given a surgery date two months ago. The outfit—loose pants, a slinky shirt, and matching robe—was a vibrant cranberry-red color and made of the softest imaginable fabric. She vividly remembered the day she bought it—she hated that she needed to have the surgery, and she had no idea how she would feel about her body after, so she bought this exorbitantly expensive and fabulous loungewear, deciding she could at least dress well while going through it all.
Even though she’d been worried then, she had to admit that she’dunderestimatedhow monumentally craptastic she’dfeel, both mentally and physically, after surgery. It had honestly been brutal. She’d been in more pain than expected, been more emotional than she expected, and felt sorry for herself a lot more than she ever had.
But now Marley was almost feeling human again. She was still quite sore and she could barely raise her arms, but every day was easier than the one before it. There was most definitely a light at the end of the tunnel. She’d even looked at her new breasts today and didn’t hate what she saw.
She was going to be okay.
Even in her job—she’d had some hard moments styling Nikhil while she was hurting, but she managed to get him off to LA with enough clothes to look fresh, stylish, and approachable for his events. She’d looked at some of the LA press he’d done, and he was being called a style icon thanks to Marley’s work. She had no doubt that Jacqueline was going to be so impressed that Marley would get the permanent personal shopping role.
Everything was falling into place. And she couldn’t wait for Nikhil to come home so she could tell him how well her doctor’s appointment went. She made herself comfortable on her recliner and put on the glassblowing reality show.
Nikhil walked in her door at seven. Marley grinned when he came into the living room rolling his suitcase behind him. He wasn’t wearing any of the Nik Sharma outfits she’d picked out for him but was in his own Nikhil clothes—oversized, worn jeans that looked incredibly soft, and a yellow cable-knit sweater that reminded her of a cozy hug. With his hair back with frizz escaping the elastic instead of blow-dried smooth, he seemed more like he did when they first met in the store a fewweeks ago. Marley realized that she liked this Nikhil best. He let go of his bags smiling.
“Does that outfit mean you got your drains out?” he asked before even saying hello.
She nodded proudly. “No more foreign bodies in my body! Except, you know, the implants themselves. Fifty percent fewer foreign bodies in my body!”
His grin was huge. “So amazing. How do you feel?”
“I feel good… like I can move again. I’ve been given the go-ahead to start some exercises to get some range of motion back.”
“So great.”
“Reena left some biryani yesterday if you’re hungry. I want to hear all about your trip.”
He nodded, still smiling, but Marley detected something in the smile. Maybe LA wasn’t as great as he’d hoped. He’d seemed like he was in a good mood when she talked to him the other day at his friend’s house.
“Yeah, I’m never going to turn down Reena’s food. I bought you some things from the airport. Let me show you; then we can eat.”
He’d bought hera lotof things at the airport, which was a little unexpected but very sweet: a box of See’s chocolates, a navy blue Los Angeles hoodie, a slightly terrifying LA Rams stuffie, and a bottle of her favorite Hermès fragrance. Had he noticed that the one on her dresser was almost empty?
“Nikhil, you didn’t have to get me all this.”
He shrugged. “It’s just duty-free—I had time to kill in the airport.”
“Still.” She picked up the box of chocolates. “They’re allfruit fillings!” Marley didn’t wait—she ripped the plastic off the box and opened it right away. Oh, yum. She loved fruit and chocolate.
“Okay, I’ll take a quick shower, then get dinner warmed up.”
“Take your time,” Marley said, picking out a raspberry-cream milk chocolate. “I have my appetizer.”
They ate together at the dining table, but Nikhil seemed… quiet. She’d expected him to be his normal chatty self. But he was clearly preoccupied with something. Marley had to keep the conversation going.
“I heard from Shayne,” she said. “Apparently, Philip is already talking about bringing him along to Milan Fashion Week later this year.”
“Do you know when he’ll be coming home? You’ll want me out of your hair then. Or…” He looked down at McQueen, who was lounging near Marley’s feet. “Or… you seem to be doing well. Maybe you want your privacy now?”
Marley put down her spoon and looked at him. Technically, yes, she was doing well. She hadn’t really needed him in the middle of the night for a while now. He’d been gone for the last three days, and she hadn’t needed him at all, actually.
But she’dwantedhim. She hadn’t expected she would miss him quite so much while he was in LA. But it wasn’t Nikhil her caregiver she’d missed—it was Nikhil herfriendshe was missing.
Or… more than a friend? She knew they’d been inching past their boundary for a while. Hand rubs, wiping tears, and massages. And she knew this little crush she’d developed wascompletely inappropriate. She’d been so emotional for these last weeks… and he was here. Here for her in a way that no one else was. The thought of him moving out of her house now was terrifying. And it was equally terrifying to be needing someone this much.
“I know shooting starts in four weeks,” she said slowly, “and you’ll be working long hours then, but before that, you can stay… only if you want to. I mean, I’m past the worst part of recovery, and I don’t think I need someone every night anymore. But if you don’t feel like moving? I’m closer to your rehearsals than your parents… and I assume you’ll need clothes for the rest of your press. Totally your call. But Gram’s room is there, and I don’t know when Shayne is coming back…” She couldn’t read his expression.
