Page 56 of Not In Love

Per Kash’s request, their outfits were nearly identical. Pale pink and champagne-gold, with delicate threadwork that shimmered like frost when the light hit right.

Tia’s blouse had capped sleeves and tiny mirror embroidery along the hem. Kash’s was strapless under the sheer dupatta, with a matching high-waisted lehenga that hugged her hips and flared dramatically to the floor.

First, Kash helped Tia step carefully into her lehenga, fastening the side hooks and tugging the soft waistband snug over her hips. Then she helped her with the choli, easing the tiny sleeves onto her arms and hooking the back neatly.

“Tia baby,” she said carefully, tying the flimsy strings of the blouse in the back. “You don’t like matching with Kash Aunty? We can get you something else?—”

“What? No. I don’t want to change it.” Tension filled the tiny frame as she looked over her shoulder at Kash. “I know my Mama isn’t here but I loved the idea of matching mommy and me outfits.”

Kash blinked away the sudden tears and pressed her mouth to the girl’s temple. Tia snuggled deeper into her arms.

“Let’s get your kajal on,” Kash said softly, shifting to gather the makeup pouch. She brushed the tiniest amount of black along Tia’s lower lash line, tilting her chin up with a fingertip. Then she dabbed a small, thick circle on her own fingertip with the kohl pencil and transferred the dot to beneath Tia’s ear.

To remove the shadow of any evil eye or bad juju from the little girl. Usually, Kash didn’t follow any superstitions but in her niece’s case, nothing was forbidden to her.

Tia didn’t blink or squirm as Kash did her face, just sat there quiet, tense.

Finally, Kash dabbed a little tinted balm onto her lips and a little gold sparkle onto her eyelids. Through it all, Tia stared at Kash’s face with an intensity that felt like standing too close to a flame. With an exaggerated flourish, she tacked on tiny gold jhumkas onto Tia’s ears. Again, a smaller version of her big ones that she had custom ordered months ago.

Only after Tia was done did Kash turn away to change herself, slipping her blouse up her arms. “Can you help me with the back hooks? I can’t reach the top.”

Tia stepped onto the pouf eagerly and tried, but her fingers fumbled with the gold loops. “It keeps slipping, Kash Aunty,” she whispered, sounding far too serious and a little teary. “I can’t get it right.”

“It’s okay, baby. Those loops are tricky.”

Kash started to turn, just as a knock came and the door creaked open.

Diego’s voice floated in. “Muriel said my two favorite girls are doing their own dress up. Was feeling left out so I snuck in.”

Tia giggled and made a show of her wide skirt even as she stood precariously on the pouf.

Kash looked up at him, heart skipping several beats.

He stood barefoot in jeans and a navy button-down, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, curls slightly tousled like he’d just run his fingers through them. His gaze fell on Kash’s exposed back, on Tia’s fingers on the blouse, and something in his face softened.

“Well, don’t you both look beautiful,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him. “Need help?”

Diego reached them and made a show of smushing Tia under his arm. His eyes met Kash’s in the mirror before dropping to the delicate row of gold hooks down the back of her blouse. “Get your braid out of the way,” he said, voice low.

Kash did as he asked, holding her braid up with one hand. “Tia, sweetheart, can you grab some safety pins from the bathroom drawer?” she said over her shoulder. “The black tin, second drawer.”

Tia nodded and padded out of the room, leaving a trail of dupatta shimmer behind her.

Kash exhaled just as Diego stepped in close. His hands were warm—callused in all the places that made her knees go weak—as they skimmed her bare spine. He caught the first hook, slid it through the loop, then moved on to the next.

She held perfectly still, afraid that if she so much as breathed wrong, he might pull away. She wanted to turn around and ask him about that night, about what it meant, about whether he felt the same ache that was consuming her—but the words jammed in her throat, heavy and dangerous.

After he slid the final hook into place, his knuckles brushed the nape of her neck again. Kash swayed slightly, and without thinking, leaned into him—just enough that her bare back brushed his chest.

For a long beat, he didn’t move.

Her breath turned choppy as she braced for him to push her away.

Then, a rough exhale shuddered through him as his hands dropped lower, finding her hips. His fingers flexed once, gripping the curve of her bare waist with a hold that was possessive, even rough. Like he couldn’t help leaving deep divots in her flesh.

Kash bit her lip, her pulse hammering. He wasn’t pulling her closer but he wasn’t letting go either. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of his face—closed off and taut, a man at war with himself.

She almost asked. Almost broke the silence. But there was so much to lose now and the enormity of it arrested her.

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