Her mother wiped her cheeks, and she wiped her mother’s. They were comforting each other like normal mothers and daughters.

“I think no other man do for you. Men like that Yash okay for women like that India. She with all yoga, he with all politics, all separate-separate. You need someone . . .” She wrapped her hands together, fingers firmly intertwined. “Someone who with you all time doing ‘Naina, Naina’!”

Naina was laughing in earnest now.

“Is he downstairs?”

Her mother stood and took Naina’s hand and pulled her off the couch. “How I will know?” she lied. “But he certainly come over when I’m leave and then you cannot be look like this way, all swollen face and in man boxer short. You should wear ghagra from dandiya party. You look best of all time in it. And his face become all . . .” She made the funniest smitten face. “Dead.”

“I’m not wearing a ghagra choli, Mummy.”

“It be very romantic reconciliation, no?”

Naina blushed. Knowing Vansh, it was certainly going to be that. Maybe she should put on the ghagra just to make him laugh, but it was probably not smart to encourage her mother in this.

“I’ll wear it another time.”

Her mother studied her. “At least take hairs out of ponytail.”

“Go, Mummy, he’s been waiting for over an hour. Why didn’t you tell me?” At least she knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t too miserable, because if he’d brought Mummy here, that meant he’d already jumped the gun on believing he’d get Naina back.

Her mother went to the door. “At least put lipstick.”

“Go!” She pushed her mother out the door.

And there he was, standing there, leaning against the wall next to the elevator. A sight that made her feel like she was taking a full breath after days.

“I’ll wait if you want to go put on some lipstick,” he said, his stunningly perfect grin nudging at his lips. It was his hope-filled eyes, however, that hooked her heart. They were exhausted, and he had stubble.

Mummy was laughing when the elevator door closed.

Grabbing his arm, Naina pulled him into the apartment.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Naina.” He said her name. That was it.

Everything inside Naina that had been floating in pieces fell back in place.

“I’m sorry,” he said without pulling away, his scent, his heat, all of it sucking the pain she’d been carrying from her limbs. “I’m so sorry. I only thought about what I wanted. I’m sorry I pushed you. I don’t want anything more than what we already have. I don’t need you to love me back.”

She pulled away and looked up at him. “You already know I love you back. Stop manipulating me.” Then she kissed him, because she couldn’t wait for them to get the semantics right.