Page 63 of The Bodyguard Proposal

“Veer Singh. Apparently, his injury has miraculously recovered.”

A muscled actor who kept hovering around Komal at her birthday party. She didn’t like it. Later that night I’d done my research. There’s a video of him that got buried before it hit the press. Him swinging tree trunk arms clumsily at a bouncer. Fuck me, this is more toxic masculinity, but I can’t help but think Komal can’t depend on a man like that. If she ever needed him, he couldn’t protect her. His punches wouldn't hit a target two feet away. Abysmal defences. Foolish little baby hits.

“He’s popular,” I force out.

They are in a film, not together in real life. Films are fake.Not that you have any claim on her.

Komal tosses her phone on the bed, as if she can’t bear it staying within her reach. “What great news. Nothing more I can ask for.”

She clenches her teeth and uses her backup voice. The one that takes over when she’s buying time and coaxing her real feelings to claw themselves down. That voice puts me on edge. “You don't have to pretend with me.”

“What are you?” She taps my chest. “An alien? Me from the future? A mind leech?”

I laugh because I can’t help it. She lightens the world with strangeness until each word shines differently than it ever has for me. “Mind leech?”

“How else do youknowme?”

“Maybe I’m a brilliant listener,” I tease, searching her body language. I have this certainty she is not doing great. But Komalis so good at being guarded and perfect that sometimes I have to look carefully and for a long time. Every shift in tone or gesture matters.

“No one has heard me say the things I say to you," she admits. “You are the unlucky one.”

Don’t ever stop.

“So, Veer Singh,” I remind her. “Why aren’t you happy about the news?”

“The thought of acting beside him makes meitch. Some people—my mother—would call it nerves, but it's worse than that. It's what I feel about him... and the movie altogether. My body doesn’t like it.”

“Have you told Shreya how you feel?”

“It’s her career on the line.”

“Doesn’t she already have a career?”

“Yes, but news of how I got cast on my birthday is all over the place. There are articles written about my good fortune. So many people want to be in my position which”—she clears her throat—“makes sense. Duh. Pollywood. Can’t complain. Shouldn’t complain.”

Even when having trouble, she tries to be so logical.

“Your mother’s success shouldn’t be yours to carry.”

“Except this is a gift,” she insists.

“Does what you want matter?”

Her shoulder nudges mine. “Not like I’ve got a dream I’m ignoring. No back-up plan, so no reason not to do the movie. I can’t say I’m giving up something important to do this. I’m simply—I don’t know—giving up looking for alternatives.”

I really hate how her voice sounds. And I hate how I can only use my words right now. Because if I was free, I would pull her into my arms and worship her heart. Tellher over and over how it matters. That she matters. That her dreams don't need limitations. She can wait as long as she wants to look forher happiness. It can strike her now or later. All of us can keep dreaming new and different dreams as we go through this life.

My fingers tighten on my thigh. Another reminder I can't hold her. “I don’t have all the answers. But I know people care about you. And they wouldn’t want to hear about you giving up anything.”

“You don’t get it.” Thin laughter peters out of her. “You’ve got no idea because you areyou. Your world is different. It’s negotiable, changeable…considerate. You’re the kind of man who thinks there is a solution to every problem. Like when Sam, that other bodyguardback home, got custody over his kid, I know you changed rotations with him so he had timefor school pickup. And remember thetruck my mom got? I saw you notice how she struggled to climb into it once, and the next day we had a sidebar installed. If anyone is worried, they come to you and trust you to make the best decision with all feelings counted for.”

I blink. A wall is being arranged and fortified. “You’ve seen me?” Something dangerous moves in my chest, but I block it. It can't happen. I'm not supposed to be seen. I'm supposed to do the seeing. It's my duty. Stay invisible. Don't interfere unless needed. Protect. Care. Be in the shadows.

She keeps going, and I can't help but listen. I'll listen to whatever she tells me.

“You shine asthegood guy.Thebest friend. My mother’s favourite… and my—I can’t stop noticing you either. Especially on this trip. No matter what I do, or how lost I am with this obsession of adventure and making memories, you don’t discourage me. Or roll your eyes. You figure out how to make me achieve what I want to achieve.” Her tone shifts, goes from fragile to blustering, as if needing to compensate for all this vulnerability when she says, “It would be great if you were a dick. To balancemysecret dick personality. The one only you know about.”

“Nothing to balance out.” I hear my voice. It’s hoarse. “You’re not really a dick.”

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