Page 119 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“Why can’t I live with you?” She frowned. “You promised Mumma you’d take care of me.”

“I’m at work all day, and my home is not equipped to handle boisterous young women. Except one,” he added and winked at me. Heat rose to my cheeks.

“Shut up, Sameer!” I muttered under my breath.

“That’s alright, she knows we are lovers.”

“OMG,” Riya said and sighed dramatically. “Tara, you have to get him to stop using that word. It’s vulgar.”

I laughed loudly. “You’ve finally met your match, I see.”

“Yeah, now I have two stubborn women who hate my guts.”

“Who’re you calling a woman, old man?” Riya cried with an angry frown.

“She thinks I’m old,” Sameer said to me.

“Well, you are old,” I said, winking at Riya. She smiled and leaned in for a high-five.

“Are you two going to be ganging up on me?”

“Absolutely,” I said, readjusting myself in the front seat.

With the sweetest smile, he mouthed, “I love you.”

“I so totally heard that.” Riya rolled her eyes in the back. I chuckled.

“You know, using so and totally in the same sentence is redundant,” Sameer teased.

“You know what’s redundant? Explaining redundancy.”

I looked at Sameer with wide eyes. He gave me an “I know” look. We shared a smile as I saw her eyes gently droop.

Sameer held out his palm, and I put my hand in it.

“Lot of drama in your life, Sameer Rehani,” I whispered when I was sure Riya was fast asleep.

“Not anymore. I’m going to tie up all loose ends today.”

“You sound like a mafia boss planning on cleaning house.”

“People aren’t the loose ends in my life, Tara. Relationships are.”

Riya stirred in the back, and we stopped talking. We drove the rest of the way in silence, with a satisfied smile resting on Sameer’s face. I loved seeing him that way.

Durgaben’s warm smile greeted us at the door when we arrived. She stood stunned for a moment when she saw Riya. Perhaps the resemblance struck her too. But she recovered quickly and invited us in. Aunty came rushing out and welcomed us. She gave Sameer and me a quick hug.

“Riya,” she said, looking at the girl’s nervous face. “Welcome to your new home.”

Riya stepped closer to Sameer and started crying. He put his arm around her and led her to the living room. We followed. With Riya still recovering from her tears, we began talking. Aunty asked me about work, and I furnished details I didn’t need to, just to fill the silence.

“You’re an artist?” Riya’s voice broke our conversation. I spotted admiration and wonderment in her teary eyes.

“Yes.” I smiled.

“She’s very good,” Aunty chimed in.

“The best.” Sameer beamed with pride.

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