Those words dug into her already aching heart like sharp spikes as she got out of the car. It was probably the chill in the air but her nose ran, and she sniffed and pressed her jacket sleeve into her face as she stood in the middle of her driveway and stared at Curried Dreams behind her bungalow. She had no idea how long she stood there like that. Finally, when she could, she dragged herself up the driveway and the ramp, which had been put in for Yash’s wheelchair when he’d had his accident. It had come in handy later for Baba’s scooter when mobility became an issue.

Every light in the house seemed to be on. Every time Ashna came home, she expected Shobi to be gone. Nope. Still here. And yet she hadn’t come to the studio with the rest of their family. Mina Kaki had to have called her.

Come on, Shobi, how will the child feel if you’re not there?

How many times had her aunt said those words to Shobi?

Shobi not being there had been a huge relief. Now that she knew how dishonest she felt being in the same room with Rico and her family, how much like a fake, Ashna was sure that adding Shobi to the mix was something she absolutely could not handle. Some relationships were just so ugly you couldn’t share them with anyone.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I think you should tell Ashna that we’re together.” It was easy for Omar to say. But Shobi had no idea where she would even start with telling her daughter all the many things she had hidden from her. How had she ended up here? With a thirty-year-old daughter who didn’t know her mother was with someone. That she had been with someone since long before Bram died.

The look Omar gave her was almost as powerful over Skype as it was in person, intense with understanding. His neatly trimmed silver goatee had grown out just a bit and his gentle eyes were dimmed with worry. Those eyes and the way they saw her might be the reason she had fallen in love with him. They were certainly what had made her determined to return to him when every force in the world had conspired to separate them.

“I don’t know how,” she said without bothering to hide her despair. “The secrets between us have grown too large to swallow.”

“Then break them into smaller pieces. Isn’t that what mothers do?” A breeze blew through Omar’s thick silver hair. He was having tea on the terrace of their Juhu flat. Shobi heard the crashing of waves from the beach behind him. It was Mumbai’s premium view. Omar had bought the flat fifteen years ago, fulfilling a promise. Albeit an unspoken one.