Rihaan
FOR THE REST OF the trip, I tried my best to ignore her.
Not dramatically. And, not entirely.
I didn’t storm out of rooms when she entered them or make a point of turning my back whenever she spoke. But I didn’t make an effort to give in to the pull I felt either.
If she was in the treatment room, I found somewhere else to be. If she sat beside my sister at breakfast, I chose another table. If she spoke to me professionally, I answered in the fewest words possible and gave my attention to whatever was directly in front of me.
It was easier than looking at her.
Easier than remembering the beach.
Easier than remembering how perfectly she’d fit against me when I’d kissed her. How alive I felt when I held her. How my heart raced just a little better when she was smiling at me.
Most of all, easier than remembering the way she’d looked at me immediately afterwards, before fear had come back into her eyes.
I buried all of it beneath cricket.
Thankfully, my wrist and shoulder behaved.
For once, my body seemed willing to cooperate with my decision to pretend everything else was fine. The swelling settled, the discomfort faded, and the medical staff, including Maeve stopped hovering quite so aggressively.
We finished New Zealand with the result we needed.
That took us through to the final of the World Test Championship.
With one match at the end of April, between South Africa and India in April.
Then June would bring the final decision, depending on who came through the other side of the draw.
There were numbers, fixtures, travel plans and press obligations to occupy every spare inch of my brain.
I let them.
They were easier than thinking.
The strangest part wasn’t that I missed Maeve.
I did.
It was that I noticed her becoming closer to Raina, which made her nearly inescapable.
At first, it had been little things.
Raina saving her a seat.
Maeve stealing food from her plate.
Their phones constantly lighting up with messages as they sat together.
Then they’d started disappearing together after training, returning with coffees or some inside joke that made absolutely no sense to the rest of us.
Raina had always been one of the people I trusted most.
Watching her become comfortable with Maeve should have irritated me.
Instead, there was something warm about it.
Something that made the emptiness in my chest feel even more obvious.
Because Raina liked her.
Really liked her.
And somewhere along the way, it only made me realise how easy it would be to have her be part of my life.
I hated that she didn’t want it with with me.
I hated it enough that I said nothing.
The travel home was long.
Not because of the long flight distance—including even the stop in Dubai.
The journey had taken more than twenty-four hours, but somehow, the time I’d spent travelling wasn’t what had made it feel so damn long.
I’d spent nearly all of it fighting the urge to look at her, speak to her, or find some excuse to close the distance between us.
Even my dreams hadn’t been free of her presence.
The worst part was that she seemed perfectly content to keep her own space.
It was almost painful, watching her remain so determinedly away from me, as though she hadn’t even noticed the space I’d been deliberately giving her.
I’d been trying to stay out of her way, giving her the distance she seemed to want, but she was doing the exact same thing to me.
And somehow, that had hurt far more than it should have.
Mostly, because it gave the bitter voice in my mind the power it had been fighting for.
All my life I’d been prioritising cricket, so I could get my father to notice me.
Like, I was afraid to make a choice for myself all because I was afraid of what might come if I did.
Only now, that was the thing stopping the only person I wanted to be mine, from choosing me to be hers.
The thought of walking away from cricket that had been sitting somewhere beneath my ribs, waiting for me to acknowledge it struck up again. But I was more terrified to walk away now than ever.
If I left the sport for her—the one thing I was seemingly good at, would it be enough?
Was I?
I’d spent weeks treating Maeve like she was the cause of everything becoming unbearable.
She wasn’t.
She’d simply been the one to show me the side of myself I was afraid to acknowledge.
But, now that I had, would it matter?
If I wasn’t enough for her to break her rules with, how could possibly me quitting the sport be enough?
If she had spent the weeks convincing me that the sport was a part of me, not that I was part of it as a whole.
And still, she had called it a mistake.
The plane touched down in England beneath a sheet of grey cloud.
I almost smiled.
Home.
There was something comforting about the cold.
The damp air.
The familiar colour of the sky.
The memories it brought back of Ma. The way she loved the rain. No matter if it rained most of the year, she loved each day of it. So much so, she ended up naming her one and only daughter something similar to it.
I could have kissed the pavement.
I didn’t.
We made our way through the airport, collected bags and scattered towards cars.
Everyone looked half-dead.
Nobody had the energy to pretend otherwise.
I barely spoke.
Raina and Oliver gave me a nod before disappearing towards Oliver’s car. I caught Maeve in the distance, talking to Faroq before she gave him a brief hug, before following Raina.
I looked away.
Good.
That was better. I wouldn’t have another thing tugging away at my mind as I wondered if she made it home safely.
I arrived before they made it back to the town house. Retreating to my room as I showered, changed and collapsed into the kind of post-travel silence that made even the smallest noise feel irritating.
I had already decided I wasn’t staying.
Not there.
Not around the two people who I was sure ready to talk about every single thing I hadn’t shared with them yet.
I needed somewhere that didn’t ask questions.
I could go to Ma’s cabin.
I’d been avoiding it for months. Ever since the letter had arrived, anyway.
Years.
Dev had been taking care of the cabin for nearly ten years now.
It sat tucked away in the Carmond Village in Edinburgh, far enough from the city that there was no reason anyone would come looking for me unless I invited them.
Ma had left it to me, even though the only memories I had of the place were the ones she’d recalled for me. Only, after she had broken her promise to take me there, it had been a place I’d come to resent.
The truth was simpler.
It contained too much of her.
Too much of what we’d lost.
And lately, I’d become tired of carrying things around without ever opening them.
I packed a bag in a hurry, ready to leave before I had a chance to explain what was happening to the other residents of the house.
When I came downstairs, Oliver was locking the front door.
“Going somewhere?”
“The cabin.”
He studied me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just need to deal with this. It’s been too long”
He nodded. “Are you driving?”
“Not exactly sure. I’ll just see where my mood takes me.”
“Call me when you get there.”
“I will.”
“Hey, where you going?” Raina asked, entering the hallway. Lilli nuzzled her just as Milo darted between us. Even though Milo had seemingly drawn a while flag with out longstanding fight, I was still expecting him to skedaddle past me and ask Oliver for attention.
Dropping on my haunches, I looked him as he inspected me. Relenting to his gaze, I offered him my palm, and I could feel my own surprise being mirrored in Raina and Oliver’s expression as Milo simply nuzzled my palm.
“Leaving before you reel me in for their babysitting duties now that he likes me,” I replied, my hand moving as I stroked Milo’s dark fur, before my gaze shifted to Raina.
Raina watched me carefully. “I need you to do me a favour.”
“Depends on what it is.”
“Where are you going, by the way?”
“Ma’s Cabin.”
Raina’s brow raised. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”
I shrugged. “I need to think about some stuff.”
“More about leaving?”
“Maybe. And possibly about moving.”
She frowned. “Moving where?”
“Out of the townhouse.”
Raina’s face dropped. “Are you being serious?”
“Are you telling me you two don’t want your own space—now more than ever?”
She frowned, her gaze flicking to Oliver then and they shared a silent conversation between them.
“Look, think about it. I’m not saying I want to move out ASAP, or at all. I think I should.”
“What if I—we—still want you here?” Raina asked softly.
“Then I’m here.” I replied instantly. “Although, I might still consider moving down a floor. But, think about it. OK?”
She laughed then, before nodding. “Okay, we’ll think about it.”
“Now, what’s that favour?”
“Maeve left her check-in bag in the boot. Can you drop it off at hers? Ollie was going to do it tonight, but if you’re already going…” She trailed off at my expression.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why? Because you’re in love with her, and I’m offering you to make up whatever fight you two had?”
I blinked, startled. “What?”
“Oh, give it over. I know she lied about their being a leak in the room—which meant the “mystery” person you kept on looking over at in your stream, was really her.”
I frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The day we arrived? I was worried why she hadn’t shown up for Lunch or Dinner. So I’d gone to the receptionist in the hopes they’d do a welfare check. Then they told me about the mix up—and how she was in the room next to ours. Why do you think we never asked you to open the adjoining door?”
My jaw dropped. “If you knew, why did you berate me for days to tell you who it was!?”
“Because I’m your little sister. And, that’s what sisters do,” She replied, rolling her eyes. “Plus, you really weren’t subtle at all every time you sneaked a glance at her.”
I shook my head, rubbing a hand over my face. “Doesn’t matter. Not only does she not feel the same way—she also doesn’t ‘date’ cricketers. Plus, there’s a non-fraternisation policy in her contract or something.”
“The policy just means you have to sign a waiver that says you’re in a consensual relationship along with an NDA, that basically forbids you to mention what went wrong if you break up,” She waved a hand over like it was no big deal.
“And take this from someone who also wasn’t a big fan of anything that reminded her of her father, she might change her mind. ”
“We’ve gone out, basically twice. The first time ended up with me becoming a question mark in the international sports news. The second time, she called it a mistake. I’m not really looking for a third.”
“Your good luck is charm is four though.”
“And on that note, I’m going.”
“Okay, just do it as a favour for me. I promise to return the favour with your choice of treats when you come home.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Fine.”
“Love you!” She sang, moving into the kitchen, and just like that, Milo abandoned me, following her.
I sighed, turning my gaze to Oliver whose expression told one story.
I was the luckiest guy in the world.
It’s what he’d said to me the day he sat me down—separate from my brothers to explain his intentions towards her.
“You going to propose?” I finally asked, my voice just below a whisper.
His surprise gaze met mine before he gave me a nod, his grin bigger than it had ever been before.
“Should I shame you into guilt for not asking our permission?” I raised a brow. “Assuming you haven’t left me, and asked my brothers?”
“No offence,” He spoke just as softly. “But none of you have been protective enough of her to be worthy of giving me that permission. The one Patel I wanted the permission from, I already have: hers.”
“So, you have a ring.” I gathered.
“I’m getting one made,” He nodded.
“From Dev?”
“Of course.”
“So, he knew before me.”
“He actually doesn’t know. I got Sean to be the point of touch.”
“How’d you pull that off?”
“He owed me one.”
I nodded, knowing how much our family stones would mean to Raina. “I’d wish you luck, but we both know you don’t need it.”
He just grinned, knowing I was correct.