Meanwhile, I can’t utter a single word. A tight knot forms in my stomach, my pulse quickening.
I can’t believe Rachel would invite someone into our home without talking to me about it first.
Actually, that’s not it.
I can’t believe she wouldn’t trust me to say yes.
Does she not think I would be okay with this?
I love Océane like the sister I never had. The amount of pain this girl has had to endure is simply unfair.
Bringing someone new into our home is a big deal. Ahugedeal. It’s a decision that should have been made by the two of us. Together. But we don’t leave family behind. If this were my sister, I couldn’t fathom leaving her in need, especially knowing that I could have helped.
The fact that Rachel didn’t trust me with this decision… it triggers alarm bells deep into the recesses of my mind.
Something is deeply wrong between us.
For the first time, a doubt creeps into me about whether my wife still sees me as the man she loves and trusts with her whole heart.
I focus on that when I force a smile and grab Rachel’s hand. “Family comes first, always,” I affirm to her, my thumb tenderly stroking her palm.
She smiles at me in relief while I try my best to pretend I’m not panicking inside.
Chapter 6
Rachel
August 2011
The weekend couldn’t come fast enough.
It’s hot and sunny out, so I quickly put on a pink summer dress that I match with strappy sandals and make my way outside before any of my roommates wake up. I’m not really interested in making small talk with them. Luckily for me, it looks like they’re sleeping in late.
Nothing like a nice walk out in beautiful St-Anne de Bellevue to clear my head of its trash.
I make my way past the rolling green hills of our campus, walking a bit faster than I intend to. The truth is, I need to burn some frustration.
A large part of me misses my baby sister like crazy. Every night, I fall asleep with an ache in my chest. I took care of her for the first seven years of her life, soothed her fears like she was mydaughter. I intend to visit as often as I can, but I can’t afford a bus ticket there and back every weekend.
But another part of my brain keeps circling back to that tall boy and our evening together two nights ago. Mostly, I’m obsessed with one vital question:
Why didn’t he ask me for my number?
We had a perfectly pleasant evening playing hooky from that stupid party, wandering around campus in the dark and just… talking. By all accounts, it should have been boring, but there isn’t a single thing Karan can say that bores me.
At least, not so far.
I don’t even know why. But there’s something about his aura, the deep, baritone sound of his voice… He may be a stranger, but the other night, he made me feel at ease.
At home.
Oh, and he made me laugh. Gotta give him points for that, too.
So, when it was past midnight and we both headed back towards the residence building, only parting ways to head to our respective rooms, I felt like something more should have happened. But it didn’t.
I should have given him my number myself, or asked him for his, but I didn’t dare. I was too swept up in the moment, basking in the exhilaration of walking next to him.
Maybe he felt the same way.
