He started to pace.
‘My family is on their way. So there’s that. And then of course, your father just died. Fuck. It would be so wrong.’
He stopped pacing and looked at her.
‘I’m going to kiss you.’
She didn’t respond.
‘I mean like right now. I’m going to kiss you right now.’
She sucked in her breath.
He took a step towards her and the phone in his hand vibrated.
He growled and then answered it.
She quickly put on her clothes and sat in front of the mirror again. She ran a brush through her hair and then applied moisturiser on her face and added makeup for a soft, natural look. She heard Neel say goodbye to whoever he was talking to.
She was just about to apply lipstick when Neel stood behind her.
‘Don’t,’ he said.
She glanced at him questioningly but didn’t have time to speak because he pulled her to her feet and turned her to face him. And then his lips were on hers. She threw her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. They’d kissed hundreds of times, but every kiss ignited something in her. This kiss wasn’t demanding. It was filled with something unspoken. Kaavi just didn’t know what. Neel slowed the kiss and when he ended it, he brushed a couple of strands of hair off her face.
‘My parents just pulled into the driveway,’ he said quietly.
She squinted at him. He quickly moved away.
Kaavi watched him leave the bedroom. She expertly applied her lipstick, rolled her shoulders, stood up tall and took a slow, deep breath. It was time to face the music. She stepped out of the bedroom and followed the murmur of voices and the smell of fresh coffee. As she walked into the kitchen, that same familiar warmth hit her. She and Neel were terrible cooks, but this room had always been their spot, where they’d sit for hours, eat too much takeaway and talk about everything and nothing. Back then, it had been her favourite room in the house.
The talking stopped as soon as Kaavi walked in and she gave a hesitant smile. It honestly felt like stepping in front of a firing squad. The first face that came into view had to be Neel’s sister, there was no mistaking it. And now she understood why Sam never believed they were related back when Natara tagged along to cricket matches.
They were twins, sure, but they couldn’t have looked more different. Neel had textured hair; Natara’s was pin-straight, styled into a sharp shoulder-length bob. She wore black-rimmed glasses and was so short that, if standing side by side, she would barely reach Kaavi’s shoulder. Neel was always the tallest person in the room. But Natara? Natara was small – and serious.
When Kaavi’s gaze shifted to Neel’s parents, it all made sense. Natara had her mother’s height while Neel was a younger, taller version of his father.
Neel stood leaning against the counter, arms folded, offering her an encouraging smile.
His mother shot up from her seat, rushed over and pulled Kaavi into a tight hug.
Kaavi had braced herself for coldness, bitterness, anger, all the things you’d expect from a mother-in-law whose daughter-in-law had walked away from her son. But not this woman. This woman held her close.
Her hug was warm, grounding.
‘I’m sorry about your father, Kaavi,’ she whispered in her ear.
She let go of Kaavi and gently ushered her into the kitchen.
Kaavi followed, still speechless. She didn’t know what to say. What could she possibly say?
She wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. She was numb. Her father had just died and she hadn’t even begun to untangle how she felt about that. And now here she was, meeting the in-laws she should’ve met nearly three years ago.
Neel’s father stepped forward and held out his hand.
‘My deepest condolences, Kaavi,’ he said as they shook hands.
She nodded silently.
