Yash had offered it up as an interim solution without asking a single question. They’d been using it as their makeshift office since they’d moved Hari there from the hospital two weeks ago.

After they’d moved in, when Yash had called to check in on them, Naina had been by herself.

“Did you want me to call Mehta?” he’d asked on the video call, studying her with gray eyes that were completely different from his brother’s but had the same kindness and focus in them.

“No,” she’d said. “Vansh and I got it.”

A spark of surprise had brightened his eyes. “Ah,” he’d said. She was used to these ahs now. “You’re involved in Vansh’s job-training app, then?”

“It’s our app,” she’d said without much thought.

“And Nepal?”

“Vansh takes care of the operations. Permissions, relationships. I focus on programs. Same as the app.”

“Shit!” said the governor of California. “We’ve been best friends our whole life and this is the most you’ve ever said to me about your work.”

“That’s not true.” Was it?

He gave her one of his You dare to disagree with me? looks.

“You never asked.”

That made him give a surprised laugh. “We were such idiots.”

“Idiots?” she said, unable to wrap her head around this new chatty Yash. Could people really change so much?

“You never allowed me any power over you and I never allowed you any over me. That’s what we thought we needed to survive, to get what we wanted. We were idiots, Nai.” He ran a quick hand through his hair. “Or maybe we were just waiting for the right people.”

Wait, what was he insinuating here? “I’m really happy for you, Yash, you know that, right? But I am not you.”

Another ah followed.

She wasn’t interested. Enough with the ahs.

“I’ve got to go. Meeting.”

He’d given another patronizing smile. “Of course. But may I say just one last thing?”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“All men are not your father, Nai.”

With that unsolicited wisdom, he’d finally let her go.

She was still grateful for the use of his home.

Even though Hari was doing much better, he wouldn’t stop agonizing over what had happened, no matter how many times Vansh apologized and told him it hadn’t been his fault.

Hari was squeezed into the corner of Yash’s gray leather couch. Naina and Hari exchanged a glance and Hari giggled. Naina made a Herculean effort not to.

“What?” Vansh asked, knowing full well what they were smiling about.

“It’s violet,” Naina said.

“With pink flowers,” Hari said.

“Embroidered flowers,” Naina said.

Every time Naina saw Vansh in one of these shirts, she could barely suppress the urge to climb him like a tree. Not that the urge hadn’t been her constant companion for months now.