by Sajni Patel
I released a long, rough sigh. “Thank you.”
“This is a heavy burden to carry around for so many years. Do you talk to Jahn about it?”
“I try to. He tells me to let it go. I’m convinced he hates me for it, even though he says otherwise.”
“I don’t think Jahn or your mother hate you. They love you very much.”
“I usually just down a bottle of something strong this time of year. I’m fighting it.” I twiddled my thumbs. “I think about Dad all the time. He should’ve been there to see us graduate, to see Jahn get married, to see Josh. I made a widow out of my mother, fatherless boys out of us, a grandfatherless child out of Josh and all of his siblings and cousins to come. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, much less at the scars on my back.”
She ran a hand up my back, and I jumped at the odd feel of someone else’s touch over the ridges. “You have to let it go before it completely consumes you.”
“How do I do that?”
“Approach and embrace the bitterness. Look it in the eye and give it all you have, your tears, your fears, your anger. Then release it like a breath you’ve held for too long. Remember the good things about your father.”
“You’re not going to think I’m some emotional man-child if I cry?” I smirked.
She smiled. “We’ll cry together.”
And that’s just what we did. We ordered pizza and drank soda instead of alcohol. And Liya listened to every detail I wanted to tell her. She was right. Tears and fears and everything came out. I couldn’t believe how much I’d held in, how immense a burden, and how light I felt when she took it from me.
Liya rubbed my shoulders as I yelled at myself. She didn’t interrupt to tell me I was wrong or that things were okay. It was a powerful thing, having someone simply listen and not worry about how I looked: weak, depressed, clinging to the past…
After what seemed like an hour later, when all the rage had subsided, I said quietly, “You would’ve liked him.”
“Yeah?”
“He always told jokes that weren’t funny until he added, ‘It’s an old Indian trick.’” I chuckled. “Every day, he always had hard caramel candy for us. He could cook, too. Ma would always shoo him out of the kitchen, but on weekends he’d wake up early and make breakfast. She’d scold him and then hug him, and we’d all eat in the living room. He taught us how to cook. We’d decimate the kitchen.” I laughed. “I’d just wanted to surprise him that day, show him what we’d learned.”
She patted my leg and rested her head on my shoulder again. I pulled the blanket across our laps.
Liya helped me to give in to my bitterness, and somehow it didn’t scare her away. She cried into my side when my tears slipped and held me tight. She laughed at the fun memories. She unlocked a chest of aggression and repressed emotions as we floated and crashed through all the hard-hitting truths.
One night didn’t free me from the guilt, but one night with Liya at my side as we navigated through the grief unleashed more than the last nineteen anniversaries combined.
It was midnight before she changed into shorts and a tank top. I stripped down to my boxers and we went to bed. Together. She pressed her cheek against my chest, her body soft against mine. I held her in my arms and played with her hair as she ran her nails gently over the scars.
“We’re finally going to sleep together?” she asked and yawned.
“Looks like it.”
“Best night of my life.” She kissed my chin.
I didn’t think that I could sleep, but Liya’s warmth lured me into dreams, not good, not bad, but the kind one doesn’t remember in the morning. For the first time in twenty anniversaries, nightmares didn’t plague me. When I woke up a few hours later, somewhat rested, relaxed, I knew that I could never let this woman go. She had become my remedy, my everything.
“Liya?” I muttered in her ear, then bit her earlobe when she didn’t stir. The woman could sleep.
“What?” she groaned.
“You hit your alarm three times.”
She stretched against me. “You know, there are better ways of waking me up if you’re going to be sleeping in my bed.”
“Next time, I promise, but don’t you have to get up for work?”
“Don’t you have to leave to get ready for work?” she muttered, and just like that, all the sarcasm returned.
I grazed her side, and she yelped. “Oh, are you ticklish?” I asked innocently.
She held my hands in place at her waist with a death grip. “Do. Not. Tickle. Me.”
“Then get up for work,” I teased.
“I’m not going to work,” she groaned.
“Are you going to call in?”
“Are you?”
“I only have some paperwork left that I can do from home.” I let out a rough sigh. I couldn’t believe I couldn’t help save this company. Granted, it wasn’t all my fault. Or even majority my fault. But it didn’t look good for me to have this loss following my career. And now Liya, among hundreds of others, would be out of a job.
“Oh. Screw work.” She closed her eyes and loosened her grip.
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“The company’s closing. I’m supposed to be there when all those people get laid off, and they’ll know that I knew. I don’t want to. I don’t have to. I’m not going to be upper management’s little monkey who does the dirty work and gets the brunt of crap flung at me. And there will be a lot of crap flying. Let them deal with the mess they made.”
“Have you had any luck with finding another job?”
“I might have something lined up.”
“Well, that’s amazing and fast. Where?”
She rolled onto her back. “You’re awfully chatty at six in the morning.”
“Sorry, princess.”
“No one’s ever called me a princess. Does that make you a prince?”
“Only if you’re marrying me.”
She pried open one eye, and I expected her to crawl off the bed and take my joke the wrong way. Instead, she cracked a smile and stuck out her tongue.
“Don’t tease me, woman.”
“You always say that.” She winked.
“This time I’m half naked in your bed.” I pulled the covers down to reveal the tank top that had scrunched up over her stomach during all that tossing and turning, revealing the toned flesh of her abs and the hem of her shorts. “Nice.”
“Now who’s a tease?”
I pulled the covers back up and said, “Thank you for last night, for listening and helping me through everything.”
She gazed up at me, now fully awake. “Did it help any?”
“You lifted the weight. Not all of my guilt is gone, but my shoulders aren’t about to break from the burden.”
“It was my honor. Seriously. I’m glad that you could share it with me, that I helped. I’m not usually good in that department, sad things and kind encouragement and the sort.”
“You did really well.”
She smiled and slid a hand across my cheek just as I pulled back to lie down. Her hand accidentally trailed down my chest and stomach. I sucked in a breath and tightened my muscles beneath her palm. I froze. She froze.
Liya bit her lower lip and dragged her eyes down the length of my body.
Swallowing, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to make coffee if we’re going to keep this talking at six in the morning thing going.”
She piled her hair high on her head and stretched on her way across the room. Her shirt rode up and revealed a sliver of skin, and her shorts dropped an inch to reveal the curve of her narrow waist where it tapered out to generous hips, nice thighs, and a mighty fine butt.
Emotionally drained, I lay back, the silence interrupted by faint noises in the living room. Closing doors, running water, and the smell of coffee that accompanied Liya when she walked back in with two mugs. She placed them on the bedside table.
“You gonna get b
ack into bed with me?” I asked, reaching for her hand.
She placed one knee on the mattress and watched me. “Are we going to be lazy bums?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.” She tapped her jaw. “I don’t like lying around with a handsome man all day when I could be dealing with all the pissed-off people at my company.”
“Comparable, huh?” I grabbed her thigh and hoisted her onto me.
Liya yelped and laughed, falling on top of me, her body landing with a soft crash. “You’re going to pay for that!”
“Yeah? What are you going to do, princess?”
“Don’t call me that!” She giggled as she delicately punched my shoulder.
“It’s not nice to hit.” I tickled her sides, and she thrashed violently over me. “Damn, woman. Calm down.”
“Don’t tickle then,” she screamed around her laughter.
I flipped her over and landed on top of her, calming her outburst as she heaved beneath me.
“Don’t,” she pleaded.
“Don’t give mercy?”
“Don’t, Jay, please. I hate being tickled.”
“Like this? But you’re laughing. Laughing indicates enjoyment.” My fingers danced up her sides, beneath her shirt.
She bucked against me. “I’m going to end you!”
“I think you’re just going to laugh. Not very threatening.”
She scratched down my shoulders, and I hissed, grabbing her hands and trapping them above her head. I cocked an eyebrow.
“Don’t you have somewhere to go? Or a nephew to visit. Oh! Let’s go see Josh,” she suggested.
“You want to see him?”
“Of course I do. I miss him. He looks a little like you, you know?”
“Oh, yeah?”
“His eyes. And that little roll in his chin.”
I chuckled. “This chin?” I nudged her neck with the stubble on my jaw, the frisson sending her into another bout of giggles.
Somewhere between torturous tickling and desperate wriggling, her scent invaded my head, reminding me of where we were. Half naked. Wrestling in her bed. Her soft curves writhing beneath me, bucking against me when I tickled her.
Her laughter filled the air. Her loosening hair glided over my arm.
My chin lowered to her collarbone for a final brush, giving my lips access to her neck. Once my mouth touched her flesh, she sucked in a breath.
And stilled.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Liya
My lungs burned from gulping in air between giggles. My head throbbed from laughing too hard. I hated being tickled, but I didn’t mind the heaviness of Jay’s body pushing me into the mattress. His hand let up on my wrists and slid down my arm, leaving a white-hot trail of goose bumps. The tickling friction of his chin scratching my skin turned into soft kisses.
How did we get here?
I never fathomed feeling so good. I floated on a high, a slow-building euphoria that I hoped would never end. Everywhere Jay touched awoke my senses as if they’d been asleep my entire life.
I breathed against his hair, my arms falling around his broad shoulders as he kissed lower and lower. My fingers delighted in the play of his muscles and wandered to the fringes of his scars. He paused.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Does that hurt?”
He shook his head.
“Do you hate that I touch them?”
“I could never hate you touching me.”
I swallowed. “Should I keep touching you?”
He craned back and looked down at me through heavy lids before sitting back and pulling me up onto his lap. His hands supported my butt as he rolled my hips against him. “What do you think?”
I gasped at the feel of his excitement. The next roll incited a deep rumble in his chest as he kissed my cheek, my jaw, my lips—first gently, then passionately as his tongue danced with mine.
We pulled away to gulp air, our foreheads against each other, his gaze full of desire.
“You’re going to get into trouble if you keep this up,” I muttered as his hands moved up my back, sliding my shirt up…and off. I gasped at the cold air hitting my bare skin and shivered against Jay, needing to feel his skin against mine now more than ever.
“There’s no one else I’d rather get into trouble with.” His mouth crashed over mine in devouring kisses, accepting me mind, body, soul, everything. All of me. Imperfections, faults, insecurities, confidences, all mashed together and laid open and bare for him to cover with affection and adoration.
This wasn’t a lustful moment where we eagerly consumed each other in order to reach the end. There was something else here, something that bubbled out of me, filled me to the brim with longing and…love? The way he cared for me and my needs, ran featherlight kisses on the back of my hand and up my arms, how he took his time, asked, held my gaze…
For the first time in my life, I felt loved.
This was love.
“Congratulations, Ms. Thakkar. We thoroughly enjoyed your interviews last week, and the review committee has reached a decision. There’s no doubt that we want you working for us. Please give us a call back to discuss the terms of an offer, which include a company-paid, fully furnished apartment for the first three months available as early as next Monday. We’re delighted to have you join our team.”
I hung up the phone and stared at the voicemail screen. I could delete it and ignore them. Getting a job was imperative, and landing one so far away from the mess here, including Dad and Mukesh, was something that I’d dreamed of for years.
That was before Jay.
I’d already group texted the girls about how hard I was falling for Jay, which ended up in a squealing marathon. I’d even told Momma that I’d give him a try because she was right. Jay was amazing. She was ecstatic.
I bit my lip. Maybe Jay would be happy about Dallas. He should be happy for me, for finding work, for bouncing back from this company, for hitting a higher pay scale, a higher level. What would that mean for us? I’d finally found someone, but I knew deep down that he wasn’t going to leave his family, his baby nephew.
I dropped my head. I wanted to celebrate, call Momma and my friends and even Jay. But at the same time, I was not ready to leave any of them.
Wendy walked into my office, cradling a box of her things.
I smiled weakly. “Didn’t think you’d stay the rest of the week.”
“Hell, no. I love you, and hate to leave you, but screw this place.”
“I feel you. I’m just here to help anyone I can.”
“That’s sweet of you. Ugh. Can’t believe they screwed us all over like this. It’s not your job to take care of everyone else. You need to look for a new job, you know? What we should’ve been doing for months instead of saving this crap place from completely drowning. I knew a few days earlier than most, but not enough time to find work.”
I spun my cell phone on my desk. “I have something lined up. Not that I knew this place was going to use me. It fell into my lap.”
“That’s great news!”
I nodded.
Wendy frowned. “But what? Don’t tell me you’re sad about getting a new job when I’m floundering for one.”
“Aside from feeling awful for everyone who’s getting laid off, the job’s in Dallas.”
“Wow. That’s a nice change!”
“It would be.”
“You’ve always talked about getting away from this muggy, smoggy hellhole.”
“Yeah.”
She twisted her mouth. “Is it a guy? That fine-as-wine lawyer who keeps coming around?”
I couldn’t keep my lips from twitching into a smile.
“Look at you. The glow, the glazed eyes, you’re in love.” She dropped her box on a chair and rushed over to hug me.
“Oh, my god. It’s not that big of a deal,” I said unconvincingly even as heat prickled my cheeks.
“Yes, it is. You’ve been like this unobtainable chick for years, all t
he guys coming after you, and finally one landed you and you didn’t automatically kick him to the curb? I’m happy for you, but do not let a man step in between you and your goals. Not to be a negative Nelly, but what if things don’t work out with him? Or if you can’t find a job here? You can only put your life on hold for so long. He has to meet you halfway.”
“Ever thought about a career in counseling?” I eyed her.
“You’re a train, not to be stopped, not meant to slow down.”
“An eventual train wreck?”
She laughed. “Okay. Don’t turn down this job yet.”
“I just got the call.”
She waved her hand. “You’ll make the right decision, but don’t give in just because friends and family and a man want you to stay. You have to do what’s best for you.”
Wendy was right. I had to take everything into consideration. I didn’t want to leave Momma, but it would be best to leave Dad behind. My friends would understand. Dallas wasn’t that far. And Jay should understand. A man shouldn’t hold me back.
Even if that man was quite possibly the love of my life?
As in all things that required advice, I invited the girls over after work.
“It’s been a while since we had a wine and cheese party,” Reema lamented as she gobbled up a glass of Merlot.
“Slow down there,” I warned. “You don’t want to get sick the week of your wedding.”
“I’m so nervous.”
“Why?” Preeti asked. “You’ve been ready for this since you guys started dating, and lo and behold, it’s been sanctioned by all the parents since before you two met.”
“It’s a big step, and there are so many people who are going to be there, and any number of things can go wrong,” Reema admitted.
“Like what?”
“For starters, are you aware that weddings for one’s child require that the parents invite everyone they’ve ever met? One of my invitees to ten of theirs. I won’t know most of the people at my own wedding! It’s going to be huge. And the caterer can mess up, the cake can fall on the floor, the flowers could dry up before the ceremony, what if my choli is too tight, I could trip in my heels, Rohan could get cold feet—”