Page 57 of Not In Love

Nothing in her life had prepared her to love another person so wholly. If anything, life had only taught her to be wary of such a connection, to see it as giving power to someone.

As their eyes held, that particular fear misted away, replaced by the fierce conviction that he would never use her feelings to hurt her.

So, she stayed perfectly still, breathing him in, burning this moment into her skin.

Before either of them could say a word, the sound of footsteps snapped them apart.

Kash stepped forward, her arms crossing over her stomach instinctively. Diego’s hands, she noted, dropped away with reluctance.

Tia appeared with a tiny blue tin, the wrong one entirely. “This one?”

Kash forced a smile. “No, baby, those are the saree pins. Will you check again for me, please?”

“Sure.” Tia scampered off, leaving them alone.

Diego looked at her, searching her face. Instinctively understanding that something was wrong.

“She’s not okay,” Kash said quietly, watching for Tia. “Something’s been off all day. She’s too quiet, too easily frustrated. That’s not her at all.”

He looked in the direction of the bathroom, gaze thoughtful. “Do you want me to leave you alone to talk to her?”

“No, of course not. We’re one parental unit, right?”

Their eyes locked and it was raw and real and so goddamn honest that it made her chest ache again.

She looked away first. The question about why he had been in such a strange mood that night still burned at the back of her throat, but she buried it. Right now, Tia needed both their attention.

Her niece padded back into the room, the tiny blue tin clutched to her chest. Her dupatta dragged behind her like a princess’s cape.

Kash reached for the tin with a little smile, crouching down to Tia’s level. “Thank you. I knew you would find it.”

Tia didn’t answer, only hovered close as Kash flipped the lid open and plucked out a few black safety pins. She made a show of fussing with Tia’s outfit, smoothing the delicate fabric, pinning the dupatta carefully to the tiny shoulder of her choli.

“There,” Kash declared, flicking the end of the dupatta like a magician showing off a trick. “All set, my beautiful girl.”

Tia smiled—a small, flickering thing—and Kash’s heart squeezed.

“We’re ready for the catwalk now,” Kash said, gathering her own heavy skirts and dropping cross-legged onto the rug. As she sat, the stiff silk of her lehenga ballooned up comically around her, making a giant, poofy ring.

Tia’s did the same. For a second they both stared, then burst into soft laughter.

Kash caught Diego’s smile from where he leaned casually against the bed. “Hey, come on,” she said, beckoning him. “Take a picture of my baby girl and me.”

Tia beamed and shuffled next to Kash, kneeling awkwardly in her own billowing skirts. Kash draped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her in close.

Diego pulled out his phone, framing them with an affectionate shake of his head. “Say poofy princesses,” he said dryly.

Tia giggled. Kash grinned.

The camera clicked.

As the moment settled, Kash looked down at Tia still cuddled into her side. She kept her arm around her niece, tracing slow, absentminded circles against Tia’s upper arm.

Her voice softened. “Hey,” she murmured. “You doing okay, baby? Really okay?”

Tia's hands twisted in her skirts. Her earlier smile wilted.

Kash felt her stiffen, but waited. She’d learned the waiting thing from Diego. Whenever he talked to Tia, he made sure she knew there was nothing or no one more important in the world. Which was how he acted with Kash too.

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