Later, when Kamila was getting herself another soda water, Rohan cornered her again. The party was wrapping up and there were few people left to be a buffer. “Kam, there you are. Now will you talk to me?”

“Oh,” Jana said, rushing to Kamila’s side. “Kamila and I had…um…plans. For a late dinner. Girl talk, you know, about the baby.”

Kamila couldn’t help it—she giggled. Jana Suleiman was a trip tonight.

“Ten minutes, Kam,” Rohan pleaded.

Kamila had been okay today, thanks, in no small part, to Jana making sure they stayed far, far from Rohan. She’d socialized, met people, and mostly forgot how miserable she was.

But he was close now, and he looked so…sad. She knew if she got even an inch closer, she’d give in. She’d accept his apologies, she’d forgive him. She’d be back to batting her eyelashes to coax a smile out of him, knowing he’d never feel about her the way she felt about him.

She would continue to be the Kamila that Dad and Rohan expected. Throw a party, flirt a bit, dance with her dog, be Rohan’s friend.

But she didn’t want to be just that anymore. Kamila knew herself now better than she ever had. It wasn’t only the realization that she loved him, but also that she was worth more than what he, and everyone else, thought she was worth.

But maybe she owed him ten minutes—after all, this was still Rohan. He’d done so much for her and Dad—and she was grateful.

She looked at Jana. “Can you give me ten, and then we’ll get dinner?”

Jana watched Kamila’s face carefully, clearly wanting to make sure she was okay. Kamila could have hugged her for that. Except—no. She wasn’t going to hug Jana Suleiman.

“It’s fine,” she reassured Jana.

“I’ll be around.” Jana flipped her hair and walked away. Kamila didn’t miss that she walked in the direction of Anil, but she wasn’t going to make any assumptions.

“Okay, talk,” she said to Rohan.

“Come. We can go to the lobby.”

After following him out to the coatroom, where he’d fetched his briefcase, they went to the lobby sitting area. It was pretty secluded and empty since most people had left the party. Kamila perched on a chair, while Rohan sat on the ottoman in front of her and took a folder out of his bag.

He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the style a bit. Kamila squeezed her hands together, resisting the urge to smooth it.

“Did you read my email?”

She shook her head. She was intentionally avoiding it, which, yeah, probably wasn’t healthy.