Chapter Twenty-Seven Pravat
The feel of Rama’s tongue between my fingers blows away the last fragments of my already rocky control, and the next thing I know, our tongues are sliding together and I’m rutting against his leg, pleasure building, until I come in my pajama pants like I’m fourteen again.
Gradually, my body calms and I ease away, stepping out of his embrace.
“Let’s go inside and clean up.”
Standing together at the kitchen sink washing our hands, Rama’s bare arm brushes mine and I notice how hot the skin is.
“Does your sunburn hurt?” I ask him.
“A little,” he admits.
Reaching for a bottle of aloe vera from a nearby cabinet, I squirt some into my palm and smooth it over Rama’s arms before dabbing a bit on his nose and cheeks.
“I must have sat in the park for hours,” he says. “It didn’t seem like that long. I’ve been living in a fog the past week or so.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.”
“Pravat.”
I pull my attention from what I’m doing to look at him.
“Should I not have asked for—what we just did?” He looks so unsure; I pull him into a hug.
“Do you regret it?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“Then it was fine.”
“But…do you? Regret it?”
Brushing my fingers over the curve of his back, I say, “Not at all.”
He lets out a deep breath and, after a moment, he chuckles.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just that you’re younger than I am but I feel like you’re so much older. You’re so put together. Is it because you had to grow up so fast?”
“I guess so,” I say, pulling away and going back to the dishes. “I’ve never really thought about it, but I suppose I didn’t have much time for a childhood. I was always so worried about helping my mother feed my little brothers.
“I’m going to have to go see my father today. He’ll be so disappointed in me,” Rama says after a few minutes.
“Not if you tell him the truth.”
Rama freezes. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
He swallows. “Aunt Sunnee’s his older sister. He looks up to her. How can I tell him what she did to me?”
“This isn’t your fault, Rama. You didn’t do anything wrong—she did. It’s not your job to protect her or to protect your father from the truth.” Pulling away, I look into his face. “You’ll feel better for having told him.”
He turns away from me. “It’ll break him.”
“It’s already broken you. You can’t keep this poisonous secret any longer. I don’t know how you’ve done it this long.”
Swinging around, Rama demands, “Why did she do it? Why me? What was it about me that made her do that? I was only a kid!”
“That’s right, you were. And you didn’t do anything wrong. She’s sick.”
Gaze falling to the floor, Rama says forlornly, “What’s the point of upsetting my father? He can’t do anything about it. It’s only going to drive a wedge between him and his sister. I’ll just tell him I worked myself to exhaustion and that’s why I had to leave.”
“Rama, look at me.” When he raises his eyes, I say, “What about his relationship with you? How have your aunt’s actions affected it?
” The look of pain that crosses his face lets me know I’ve hit the mark.
“Get it out in the open, Rama. No matter how your father takes it, you have to do this for your own sanity.”
Meeting my gaze, Rama entreats, “But how? How am I going to tell him this?”
“I wish I could help you with that, but I can’t. But I’ll be here waiting for you when you need me.”
Crossing the room to where he left his suitcase, Rama takes out some clothes. “I’m going to get dressed and go over there now.”
“I’ll make some breakfast,” I tell him.
When Rama comes out of the bathroom wearing a fresh pair of shorts and shirt, he joins me at the table. I’ve made eggs and rice, and we eat in silence. I don’t think Rama swallows more than a couple of bites—he spends more time pushing his food around his plate than putting it into his mouth.
“I’d better go,” he finally says when the sky begins to lighten outside the window. “I need to get this over with. He looks at his suitcase. “Can I leave my stuff here and come back? Or I can get a hotel.”
“Don’t be silly. You can stay with me as long as you need to.”
“Thanks.” Rama fidgets a moment before throwing his arms around me and hugging me.
After he goes, I spend the rest of the morning cleaning the apartment, but Rama’s never far from my thoughts. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling—the dread that’s clawing inside him. I wish I could take the burden on myself, but all I can do is wait for him to return.
It’s obvious he’s been traumatized for years by his aunt did to him, so much so that seeing her again sent him into shock. He needs to see a therapist. I hope telling his father will be the first step in his recovery.
I don’t allow myself to think about what happened between us on the balcony.
Rama’s mental state is too precarious right now—all I have to do is remember how he looked when I arrived at the park yesterday and all thoughts of pursuing something with him shut down.
He doesn’t need to be questioning his sexuality on top of everything else that’s going on.
On top of that, season two of the series is looming on the horizon. Working together, we can’t be involved.