“I know. You’re happiest when you can use that starter.”
Her smile faded. He liked the waffles, at least partially, because she enjoyed making them. It was sweet and selfless, and still he was holding himself away from her.
“Is something wrong?” He rolled his shoulders, and she shook her head, burying her misgivings. It sounded so foolish to complain that he was too nice, yes?
“No.” She scooted over on the bed. “Do you want to come sit here?”
His quickness in complying eased her worries a little.
They sat side by side for a couple moments. His hand slid over her thigh and squeezed, sending tingles of happiness through her body. “Thank you for being there tonight. I’m sorry you had to see this family drama.”
“Oh no.” Never let him think she didn’t appreciate learning stuff about him. “I’m glad I could be there. It would have been a shame for you all to have an irreparable rift between you. Grandparents like that don’t fall from trees.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “Do you know your grandparents?”
“Not on my dad’s side. My mom was born in America, but her parents returned to Thailand when she was in college. I met them twice, but I was too young to remember it. After she died, my dad blocked them from contacting me.” Her smile was bittersweet, the same mix of anger and aching tenderness she’d felt when she’d found out what her dad had done. “I found letters my grandmother had sent me. Birthday cards with money still tucked in them. By the time I realized they had tried to see me, it was too late, they were already gone. If I’d had the courage to buck my dad a few years earlier...” She trailed off, her inner-therapist-trained counterthinking kicking in. “Well. What’s done is done.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I considered seeing if I could track down any extended family members, but... I don’t know.”
“You should.”
She lifted her shoulder. She’d been raised by a father who had seen her as his meal ticket, a pretty object to be photographed and used for financial gain and tossed when she was no longer useful. Her abandonment issues were severe. What were the guarantees that this family that didn’t even know her would even like her?
She had made a family. Rhi, Jia. Everyone who worked for her. Jas.
She inhaled deeply, pulling air into her lungs to calm the prickle of tears at her eyes. She could always use more, though. “I’ll think about it.”
He nodded. “You do that.”
How had they gotten back to her so easily? It was a habit, she supposed, him looking after her. “Can we talk about dinner? About...”
Your PTSD.
This testimony everyone was talking about.
Your relationship with your family members.
“I’m really exhausted. Can we not, tonight?”
Her nod was automatic. “Yes. Of course.”
He leaned in close to press a kiss on her cheek. “Do you want to sleep together? I’m too tired to do more, but I’d like to sleep.”
“Absolutely.”
He turned the light off, plunging the room into darkness. They got under the covers, and she moved onto her side, in her usual sleeping position. He curved around her, spooning her.
She tried to shake the sense of something being wrong,but her eyes popped open as a thought occurred to her. “Hey, is this your side of the bed?”
“I can sleep anywhere. I don’t have a side.”
That sounded like absurd talk to Katrina, but she supposed there were some humans in the world who didn’t care what side of the bed they slept on. She craned her neck to look at him. “Are you okay with this position? Do you usually sleep on your side?”
“Are you okay with it?”
“Yes.”
