Even though a tiny sliver of guilt still lived somewhere under my ribs... it didn’t claw as hard anymore. Therapy was helping. Time was softening the jagged edges.
Two days ago, Kashvi surprised me with a visit from Vancouver. I nearly tackled her at the airport.
We spent the entire first day watching trash TV and catching up, but by the second, she was eyeing me over her morning chai like she was about to stage an intervention.
“So,” she said, “tell me everything about your Lucian Vale. And don’t skip on anything.”
My Lucian Vale?God!
I rolled my eyes but relented.
I told her about his sleepy good morning texts, and how he helps me prep for interviews. How he learned to makekadhai paneerjust to impress my mom when she FaceTimed me unexpectedly during dinner. How his reaction to my body is nowlight-yearsapart from that dreaded night. How he looks at me like I’m not just enough—butmorethan enough.
She waited for me to finish, then folded her arms. “Okay. That’s great. But... have you talked about that night?”
I froze.
“Why do I need to?”
“You know why. Have you told him how it made you feel? Have you told him what it did to you? Did you get your closure?”
“I—” I stared down into my mug. “Therapy’s helping.That’smy closure.”
“That’s not what I asked. Have you?”
I swallowed. “No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I need to.”
“Rohi—”
“He doesn’t want to talk about it, okay?” I cut in. “I’ve tried. His whole body goes stiff when I mention it. And honestly? I get it. That night wasn’t just traumatic for me. It was horrible for him too.”
She didn’t say anything for a long while.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I trust your judgement. Just... bring it up at some point, though, okay? Him avoiding it is like a red flag.”
I didn’t respond. Because I wasn’t sure I had a logical rebuttal.
??????
The café is buzzing, as usual, a low hum of conversations and espresso machines underscoring the afternoon rush. I’m tucked behind the counter, apron on, pulling a double shot.
Kashvi’s sitting in the far corner—her headphones half-on, half-off, her laptop open, and about three different tabs running. She couldn’t take more than two days off from her job in Vancouver, so she’s working remotely today. Occasionally mouthing profanities at Slack.
Then the door opens, and in walks Lucian—right on cue. That man’s internal clock is synced with my shifts like it’s part of his Google Calendar. It probably is. He’s almost anal about his schedule.
But the real surprise is the guy next to him.
Liam.
I grin immediately. Liam and I have met several times at this point. I’d even call him... a friend.
Lucian had mentioned they’d be grabbing coffee together, but I didn’t think they’d end up here this early.
I quickly wave at my shift supervisor and murmur, “Taking five!” as I round the counter.
“There’s my barista girl!” Liam calls out with open arms.
Before I can even react, Lucian smacks his arm with the back of his hand.
