His filming schedule had been so difficult, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper vacation, but he nodded. Dev had always hated being alone in hotel rooms and new cities. He was a bit of a homebody. “I understand that.”
“Thanks for coming. And for, like, everything.”
He didn’t want Jia’s gratitude, not when he was so delighted to even pretend date her. “No thanks necessary.”
They walked in silence for a couple minutes. Dev didn’t know where they were going, but that was okay. There were plenty of people out, and the streets were well-lit, so he didn’t really mind going nowhere. He racked his brain for questions he could ask her. That was the whole purpose of this, right? To get to know her? Not simply to have fun.
Jia beat him to it. “You seem to have a really good relationship with your niece.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. He could thank Luna for inspiring him to dig out these jeans. It felt odd to wear something so casual, but for a second, when Jia had seen him, he’d hoped it had been appreciation he’d spotted in her eyes. “I hope so. We’re making up for lost time.”
“You weren’t close to her before your brother...” Jia trailed off.
“No. I only saw her once or twice a year. I mostly heard about her from my grandmother.” He looked down at her. It was odd, talking about anything so personal as his family with someone who was an outsider. Dixit business stayed Dixit business. “How much do you know about my family history?”
“Not much.”
“I mean, did Arjun tell you anything, when you were talking to him? As me?”
“No. He was pretty vague whenever I tried to get personal. For obvious reasons, I see now. It was kind of like everything he said to me was from a script he was tailoring to fit me.”
He let out a half laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing. Only... from what I’ve seen, I believe that the words they wrote you were from a script. FromKyunki Mere Sanam Ke Liye Kuch Bhi.”
Jia stopped and faced him. “Are you serious?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t know for sure unless I read the whole exchange. You could redact your responses.” Though it was her responses he really wanted to read. It was anotherinsight into her beautiful mind.
“I don’t know about that.” She made a disgusted face. “Ugh, how was I so easily fooled.”
“Please stop blaming yourself. I only spotted it because they were my lines. I have a rather good memory.” He wouldn’t tell her that he’d written those lines, and probably any other that she’d gotten. That was more personal.
She resumed walking, and he fell into step. “When I think this whole thing can’t get more absurd,” she muttered, then set her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get back to the Dixit family history lesson while I process this.”
For once, talking about his family didn’t seem impossible. “It’s fairly common knowledge my grandparents virtually disowned my father when he married my mother, though I think that scandal’s not as fresh for the younger generations.”
“I saw something about that when I first looked you up. Because she was Muslim?”
“That was what the press believed, but their actual objection was that she was poor. You can imagine how much class mattered then, especially for the son of a couple who was so in the public eye.” He tried to control his sneer, but he couldn’t quite manage it, he feared. His wonderful memories of his mother were punctuated by her sadness over them not having any extended family nearby. “My father was just getting into a screenwriting career, but my parents moved to Dubai. I was raised there until I was sixteen. I never met anyone on my dad’s side of the family. My folks did fine without my grandparents. Dad actually started teaching eventually, and my mother became a nurse. We were raised without cameras following us or anyone wanting anything from us. It was a good childhood.” It had been a perfectly normal life, actually, away from the Dixit fame. That was probably why he didn’t feel too much fear at losing his grandfather’s money or not relying on the family fortune. So long as he and his little family were taken care of, he’d be fine.
“But when I was sixteen, my parents died in a car accident and my brother and I were shipped back to my grandparents’ home. They took us in, because what would it look like if they didn’t?” Dev shrugged. “Besides, my brother was very handsome even at thirteen; he was the spitting image of my grandfather. The world could forget who his mother was. My grandfather was less interested in me. I was still so angry about how he’d treated my parents, and I was a reminder to him about his own loss, I imagine. I only lived with them for a year or so before I left.”
Jia’s step faltered. “You were so young. Where did you go?”
“I tried my hand at a couple careers. Acting was the easiest paycheck. I got a flat in Mumbai, as far as I could get from them in the same city.” He didn’t like to think about those early years too much. He’d still been grieving the upheaval of what had been a good life, and missing his brother something fierce.
A few years later, Dev had tried to get Rohan to come live with him, but it was too late. His brother had already been sucked into the Bollywood film star machine, filled with all thedebauchery and wealth that came with it. Another regret to add to his shoulders, that he hadn’t taken over Rohan’s guardianship when the boy was a minor.
“I’m sorry. Your family has had so many losses.”
“Some people say there’s a curse. My parents and uncle were young, and my brother was as well. Then my grandfather. I think that Rohan’s death took too much of a toll on him.” He paused. “It’s quite odd to mourn your family members when a whole nation is also mourning them.”
“I can’t imagine,” Jia murmured.
What had been in those pancakes to make him confess his darkest secrets? “Apologies, I don’t know why I’m talking so much. Obviously, none of this is common knowledge. I would prefer you not share it with anyone, including your family.”
