Page 27 of Control

“My father passed away when I was younger. After his death, my mother and I moved to small flat in Paris. She used all of the money she had left to put me through dance school.”

“What did your father do for a living?”

I scratched my elbow awkwardly. “He was an accountant.”Lie.

“How did he die?”

Guilt consumed me for lying to him, especially when his voice was so soft with concern. I decided to share some of the truth to ease my conscience. “Car accident.”

His lips pressed together in response. “I’m sorry.”

My reaction to uttering those words should have been more like his. Instead, I felt nothing. Not like when I spoke about my mother’s death.

“It’s okay. We weren’t close.” Papa and I could never connect on the same level as Maman and I. He had never tried to foster a nurturing relationship; thus, the relationship never grew flourished. When he died, I wasn’t so much heartbroken as scared that I would be next.

“How soon after did your mother pass away?”

“A few years later…” Tears welled in my eyes before I could even complete my answer. I diverted my gaze to the red-and-white checkered tablecloth before me, tracing patterns in the little squares to distract myself. “She was murdered.”

I heard him suck in a quiet breath, which drew my eyes back to him. “A burglar broke into our house. I found her lying in her blood after coming home late from practice. The coroner said that her body was cold which indicated she had been dead for a while before I found her.” The images came rushing back to me like a bad slideshow on an old projector. I felt my eyes burn from the tears that threatened to fall. “The police report said the intruder must have thought the house was empty and shot her when they realized they weren’t alone.”

“Did they ever find the person who did it?” He leaned in closer, so he didn’t have to talk loudly and rouse attention from the other patrons, who were nearly at arm’s length.

I shook my head, swallowing the lump that had developed in my throat. The police had never found Maman’s killer, but I had known better to rely on their judgement. It was no coincidence that my mother had turned up dead after Maman had tried to move on with her life.

He clenched his jaw, his anger running parallel to my heartbreak.

“Do you have any other family around?” he asked gently.

“No.” My nails dug into my elbow again, scraping harder than before, willing the pain to distract my mind from its dishonesty.

“I understand what it’s like. Both my parents passed away too,” he offered, sympathy etched onto his face.

My mouth gaped open slightly in surprise. He didn’t seem as emotionally screwed up as I was, so I would never have been able to tell that he was practically an orphan like me. “I’m so sorry, Jai.”

“It was a long time ago. My mom was murdered by one of my dad’s business rivals.” His words came out emotionless, as if he were just reading the showtimes of a movie out loud, yet his body language read feelings that were completely different. I watched the subtle change in him that caused him to drop his chin and direct his gaze to the basket of bread in front of us. The diversion seemed to be a tool he had acquired over the years to keep himself from broadcasting his true sorrow to the world.

“My dad couldn’t bear the heartbreak of losing the love of his life, so he killed himself. The guilt he had over the consequences of his work ate him alive.” I missed the jovial smile that usually rested on his lips. This somber side of him punctured my soul.

I wanted so badly to reach my hand out to hold his. Console him. But my brain stopped me from being that forward.

“I had no idea the tech industry was so violent.” I knew his brother owned Sethi Tech, so I assumed it was their family business, especially since Jai used to work there too.

He shook his head. “No, Sethi Tech was our thing. It didn’t belong to Dad.”

“Then what did he do?”

His eyes stared straight into mine without flinching as he spoke. “Exporting.” His expression was almost too intense. Maybe that was the same look I gave him when I answered his questions? I wanted to ask him what he did for a living next, but decided against it, since he was full of lies just like I was. I couldn’t risk him digging any deeper into my life than he already had.

Oblivious to the growing friction surrounding the table, the waiter returned, fussing over the dishes he placed in front of us and asking us how we were doing in his thick Italian accent. Jai answered him curtly and waved him away, leaving us to eat our meal mostly in silence. I replayed all the untruths I had just spoken while trying to guess the ones that he had shared.

The only time we spoke after that was when I argued with him to pay my half of the bill but lost that fight when he said he had already given his billing information before we even sat down. I didn’t know how I had missed that, but it seemed fitting that he would be smooth enough to have done so without me noticing.

He ushered me outside into the dark night. It was too late to take the subway, so I’d have to get a cab. Luckily, I still had a few dollars, since he’d paid for my share of dinner.

I lifted my hand to hail a ride, but his warm fingers pulled it down and tugged me to a black car waiting at the curb. A man dressed in a suit and wearing an earpiece held the opened door.

“I need to get home. I have an early class tomorrow,” I protested.

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