Page 41 of Not In Love

A beat passed, and then both of them heard Muriel shout something from the living room, followed by a chorus of laughter.

Kash smiled. “I was worrying unnecessarily. You adore her.”

Kaif’s expression softened, but the shadow didn’t lift completely.

“But there’s something bothering you,” Kash pointed out, hoping he would confide in her.

Before he could answer, Muriel’s signature whistle split the air. “Everyone in the living room! Now!”

Kash gave Kaif’s arm a pat. “Later,” she murmured, and turned to follow the sound of wedding madness, her heart a little heavy at her brother’s continued distance.

* * *

The living roomsmelled like cardamom, fabric steam, and wet shoes. Garment bags hung off the backs of doors, open boxes of decor cluttered every flat surface, and someone had started burning incense to combat the smell of wool and packing tape.

A dozen voices buzzed around Kash. Muriel’s cousins were unpacking custom umbrellas, someone was testing a Bluetooth speaker in the corner, and Kaif was being roped into writing out place cards in his beautiful handwriting. Kash sat cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, sorting tealight holders into color-coded piles.

Somehow, Diego ended up next to her while Tia flitted in and out between them, like a honeybee dancing among flowers. Kash couldn’t even look at him now without her pulse going haywire.

He sat close enough that she could feel the warmth of his thigh where it brushed hers. His knee bumped hers occasionally as he packed glittering confetti, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, her body felt like it had been reprogrammed.

Last night’s escapade had left her loose and fluttery, as if she could fly away if something didn’t hold her down. Every time their fingers brushed by accident, it reminded her of the way he’d gripped her jaw when he had been in the throes of his climax.

And to make matters worse, she was fairly certain Muriel knew something. Or at least suspected. Although a part of her wanted Diego to keep her, keep them, a secret. To hold it close to his heart.

There was no other explanation for how pointedly Muriel paired them up for the main wedding day and all the pre-events even. Even their outfit trials were scheduled at the same time with her designer friend.

“You’re both single,” Muriel had said breezily when Kash had offered token protest. Because she was supposed to be allergic to being paired up, and to Diego. Although she doubted she could fool anyone if they paid attention. And Muriel was always paying attention, especially to her cousin.

“Honestly, have you looked at what a pair the both of you make?” Muriel had said, fake snorting. “I had to put you in somber colors for the wedding so that you don’t overshadow me and Kaif. That way, you two won’t steal the show but make my background very pretty.”

Kash hadn’t known whether to laugh or to cry. Or to hug Muriel for giving her more chances to spend with Diego without alerting anyone that she was pretty much a puddle around him. Not that she admitted anything of the sort to her.

Her knowing smiles was one thing, Kash admitting to it, another.

A gust of cold air swept in from the hallway as her mother breezed into the room, a tray of cucumber sandwiches and steaming pakodas in hand. She paused when she caught sight of Kash, gaze narrowing. “Something’s new about you.”

Kash blinked, heat cresting her cheeks. The sudden hush that fell around didn’t help.

“Did you do something different with your hair or make up? It softens you up,” her mother persisted. As usual, she was completely oblivious to Kash’s discomfort. “You have to be careful after forty. Not everything’s complimentary. And you usually walk around with that disgruntled expression that will give you wrinkles too soon.”

“Mama, please!” Kash whispered, embarrassment swallowing any pleasure she had found until then.

“Or maybe it’s the fact that you aren’t working all hours and spending time with us,” her mother continued, a strange resignation in her voice. “I will admit I’m surprised you’re taking part in all this wedding prep. Good that you’re stepping up as the groom’s older sister. Kaif deserves to be spoiled.”

This time, it was Kaif’s, “Mama!’ that reverberated in the silence.

Kash stared at her, stunned. Her mother had always had the knack for making her compliments sound like admonition, especially when it came to Kash, her firstborn. However much she had shouldered the family’s responsibility, it wasn’t enough.

Katrina had been the baby and impulsive and high-spirited—and had been abandoned by her baby daddy—and therefore, had to be protected. And Kaif was of course her son, who had gotten into trouble because he lost a father’s steadying influence too soon, so he had to be watched out for.

Kash was strong, so she always had to be strong. Never show weakness and definitely not expect anything from anyone. As if her strength was a curse that she could never forsake.

She barely heard the crinkle of plastic tablecloth past the deafening hurt and resentment in her ears. If she opened her mouth to argue, she wasn’t sure she could stop the torrent of complaints that had been piling up for decades.

This wasn’t the time or place.

A painful breath shuddered out of her just as a large, callused hand grabbed hers under the table, the grip firm enough to anchor her back into herself. Fighting the hot prickle of tears, she returned the tight squeeze.

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