“We want to understand why you kept this from us rather than allowing us to help you, to be there for you,” Papa finishes for her, and I have to clench my eyes shut for a reprieve from his imploring gaze.
I sit in the tense silence, all of my own doing. “You’d just been reunited, moving to Gujarat to be close to our family. I couldn’t live with myself if I tore you apart again,” I whisper, pain prickling up my spine.
“What are you talking about,beta?” Mummy gasps.
“You never tore us apart, Adhira. How could you think that?” Papa asks.
“Please don’t coddle me,” I plead. “I heard you. Every phone call. Every night Mummy spent crying because you had to work so far away to provide for me, paying for clubs and sports so I wasn’t home all the time with the constant reminder that Badal wasn’t there.” Memories of all those nights I spent hiding in the hallway, wondering how I could make Mummy happy again, knock the wind out of my chest.
“That—that is not at all what happened,” Papa says.
“Not even a little,” Mummy confirms, and confusion swirls around me.
Of coursethat’s what happened. I wasn’t imagining it.
“The truth is,” Papa says, his gaze flicking away like it’s too heavy to hold mine, his voice low and hoarse. “I wasn’t the same after your brother died. None of us were. It all happened so fast, and I could see it breaking you, breaking your mum.” He meets my gaze but doesn’t hold it. “I wasn’t strong enough to doanything but disappear into my own grief. I came home, and he wasn’t there. That silence—it gutted me every time.”
He swallows hard, as though the words cost him the same way they do me. “Your mum begged me to come back, to show up—for both of you. But I buried myself in work, told myself I had to keep the lights on. That lie was easier than facing the two of you, than facing what I wasn’t.”
He drags in a shaky breath, lifting his gaze to meet mine, and this time, he holds it. “The truth is, I could have come home. I should have. I should have been the father and husband you both needed. But I was fractured, and I let that be the excuse. And Adhira”—his voice drops, barely above a whisper—“I hate that I ever made you feel like you had to carry the weight of my absence. That any of this was your fault. You were never a burden,maari laali.Never.”
“You are the furthest thing from a burden. You are our greatest blessing. We just want to be here for you, however you need us,” Mummy says.
My mind can’t process it all, not yet, not with the weight of this lie I’ve told myself being dismantled.All this time,I’d thought I’d been the thing keeping them apart, and now that I know that was never true, I don’t know how to feel, how to process this giant ball of emotions rocketing into me.
It’s Elijah’s steady gaze as he twists around, sitting up on his knees to cup my cheeks, whispering, “Sweetheart, I need you to take a deep breath with me,” that stabilises me, pulling me back to the present.
I draw in a lungful of air through pursed lips, feeling like I’ve just been smacked with the force of my father’s words and the revelations that followed.
“That’s good,” he coos. “In,” he says, mimicking the action, and I follow along until he says, “and out.” The cinnamon scent of his breath blowing over my cheeks anchors me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, shaky and breathless.
“Anything you need, sweetheart.” He lowers his hands from my face, looking between my parents as they flank me. “If you’re all okay with it, I think this has been a lot for everyone. Maybe we can just relax for the rest of the night,” he suggests, and I’m grateful. I have a million more questions, and I’m sure they do, too, but this time, I plan to learn from my mistakes rather than leaving them in the dark. I need some time to decompress first.
“I think that would be good, yes. Thank you, Elijah,” Mummy says, reaching out to pat his cheek.
His face flushes red, and he answers her with a nod, climbing to his feet. “How about I make dinner? I heard you’ve both been missing shepherd’s pie, and I have lentils made just for it.”
He doesn’t miss a beat, somehow managing to deflect attention away from me, calming my parents, and anticipating future needs before any of us have a chance to school our expressions.
“That would be lovely, Elijah. Thank you,” Papa says.
My parents excuse themselves for a walk, and after fixing me some tea and tucking me into his bed for a nap, Elijah presses a kiss to my forehead, squeezing my hand.
“You did it,” he whispers, though no one is around to hear.
“Thanks to you,” I answer, my lips quirking in a tight smile, the weight on my chest still present but lighter now.
He flushes crimson, ducking his head. “That was all you. I’m just glad I could be there.” He heads to the door, hand on the knob.
“Where are you going?”
“To make dinner.”
“You don’t have to do that, Elijah. I don’t want you putting everyone else’s needs above your own.”
He shakes his head, offering a reassuring smile that deepens the dimple at the corner of his mouth. “I’m cooking to clear mymind and have a few moments to myself to process, notjustto butter your parents up,” he says with a playful wink that has my heart doing funny things.
