She swallowed. Anger darkened her beautiful eyes. Eyes he could read more and more clearly with each passing day. Eyes that were no longer sad all the time. He hated the turmoil in them now. Hated it.

“I had only recently gotten out of a relationship with a man who risked his life’s work, a gubernatorial election, for another woman when you asked me to get into this thing with you. You think I’d even have considered it if you weren’t so damn easy to trust?”

“I thought we were past this. You’d just gotten out of a fake relationship.”

“Maybe that’s not relevant.”

It was his turn to laugh. “It’s literally the only thing that’s relevant.” Their arrangement was not the same thing. “You didn’t even want to be on the same continent as him. The only reason you even thought about turning it into something real was because your work brought you back here. Does that not tell you anything?”

“Of course it does. It tells me what I’ve told you before, that I’m not made for relationships, I’m not capable of love.”

The way she said it made him want to hunt her parents down, hunt Yash down, hunt everyone in his family down for treating her like she was responsible. For reinforcing this shit she believed. Well, he knew they were wrong. She was wrong.

“What if I told you that’s a lie? What if I told you that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard anyone tell themselves? Ask me how I know.”

Panic flashed in her eyes. She was terrified of what she saw in his eyes. He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and her body softened instantly. “Fine, don’t ask me. But being afraid to love is not the same as not loving. Everything you do, every action you take, there’s more love there than I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Then maybe I’m capable of it. Maybe I’m not worthy of it.” Turning away from him, she started studying the bookshelf. A menagerie of books family members of patients had left behind, interspersed with children’s books about loss and sadness and asking for help. Books that might have helped her a long time ago.

He stepped close to her, and her body loosened and tightened at the same time.

“Another lie,” he said behind her. “You are worthy of love. Ask me how I know.”

She spun around. “Vansh, listen. Please. I can’t—”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not asking for anything. I’m not.” Was he? “All I’m saying is—”

“Why you not call Mummy?” Naina seemed to fold inward as her mother’s voice cut Vansh off.

They spun as one toward the waiting room door.

“Why did you two not call us?” Ma was here too? What was happening?