Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
T he wedding madness intensified with each passing day, bringing them to the Wednesday before the big day.
Outside, the winter sun filtered through bare tree branches, casting shifting gold patterns across Tia’s bedroom floor. The room smelled faintly of apple shampoo, the leftover sugar from pink-frosted cupcakes, and something warm and floral from the closet sachets.
Tia’s stuffed unicorns had been swept to the foot of the bed to make space for the heavy lehenga-choli sets laid out like royal offerings.
Muriel had just delivered several of hers and Tia’s outfits—each one carefully steamed, hung, and tagged with names. It was to be a joint try-on session for the women in the wedding party, full of selfies and commentary and sparkling wine in plastic flutes.
Muriel’s friends were already sorting theirs in the other bedroom, but Tia had clung close to Kash the moment the bags were unzipped. All morning, now that she thought about it.
She hadn’t been neglecting Tia—there were a house full of people who spent time with her—but suddenly, Kash felt guilty for being so consumed in her head with Diego. Hopefully, Tia hadn’t noticed her aunty’s fixation with her papa.
“Baby, you want to try yours on with me?” Kash asked gently, crouching to eye level. “Just you and me doing the full works?”
Tia nodded quickly, eyes big and solemn. “Yes please.”
Muriel hesitated at the door, still holding a hanger draped in gold-trimmed netting, her clipboard tucked under one arm. “We’re making a whole afternoon of it. Someone even brought their cousin, she’s around Tia’s age. You sure you don’t want to join?”
“I’ve got it,” Kash said, firm but polite. “You and your friends can use the other bedroom. We’ll catch up after.”
Muriel blinked, a little thrown by the clear dismissal, but nodded and disappeared, the soft jingle of her bangles fading down the hallway.
Kash exhaled and turned back to Tia. “We’ll do this the Aunty Kash way,” she said excitedly, smoothing the comb down Tia’s hair.
Tia smiled shyly and nodded.
Kash’s worry deepened, but she pushed it aside for now. She chatted on as she plaited Tia’s thick hair into a French braid and hooked on tiny, brass dangling charms all the way.
Then she did her own braid and asked Tia to hook the charms in hers. The little hand clasped snugly in her large one, Kash pulled Tia to the bed.
Per Kash’s request, their outfits were nearly identical. Pale pink and champagne-gold, with delicate threadwork that shimmered like frost when the light hit right.
Tia’s blouse had capped sleeves and tiny mirror embroidery along the hem. Kash’s was strapless under the sheer dupatta, with a matching high-waisted lehenga that hugged her hips and flared dramatically to the floor.
First, Kash helped Tia step carefully into her lehenga, fastening the side hooks and tugging the soft waistband snug over her hips. Then she helped her with the choli, easing the tiny sleeves onto her arms and hooking the back neatly.
“Tia baby,” she said carefully, tying the flimsy strings of the blouse in the back. “You don’t like matching with Kash Aunty? We can get you something else?—”
“What? No. I don’t want to change it.” Tension filled the tiny frame as she looked over her shoulder at Kash. “I know my Mama isn’t here but I loved the idea of matching mommy and me outfits.”
Kash blinked away the sudden tears and pressed her mouth to the girl’s temple. Tia snuggled deeper into her arms.
“Let’s get your kajal on,” Kash said softly, shifting to gather the makeup pouch. She brushed the tiniest amount of black along Tia’s lower lash line, tilting her chin up with a fingertip. Then she dabbed a small, thick circle on her own fingertip with the kohl pencil and transferred the dot to beneath Tia’s ear.
To remove the shadow of any evil eye or bad juju from the little girl. Usually, Kash didn’t follow any superstitions but in her niece’s case, nothing was forbidden to her.
Tia didn’t blink or squirm as Kash did her face, just sat there quiet, tense.
Finally, Kash dabbed a little tinted balm onto her lips and a little gold sparkle onto her eyelids. Through it all, Tia stared at Kash’s face with an intensity that felt like standing too close to a flame. With an exaggerated flourish, she tacked on tiny gold jhumkas onto Tia’s ears. Again, a smaller version of her big ones that she had custom ordered months ago.
Only after Tia was done did Kash turn away to change herself, slipping her blouse up her arms. “Can you help me with the back hooks? I can’t reach the top.”
Tia stepped onto the pouf eagerly and tried, but her fingers fumbled with the gold loops. “It keeps slipping, Kash Aunty,” she whispered, sounding far too serious and a little teary. “I can’t get it right.”
“It’s okay, baby. Those loops are tricky.”
Kash started to turn, just as a knock came and the door creaked open.
Diego’s voice floated in. “Muriel said my two favorite girls are doing their own dress up. Was feeling left out so I snuck in.”
Tia giggled and made a show of her wide skirt even as she stood precariously on the pouf.
Kash looked up at him, heart skipping several beats.
He stood barefoot in jeans and a navy button-down, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, curls slightly tousled like he’d just run his fingers through them. His gaze fell on Kash’s exposed back, on Tia’s fingers on the blouse, and something in his face softened.
“Well, don’t you both look beautiful,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him. “Need help?”
Diego reached them and made a show of smushing Tia under his arm. His eyes met Kash’s in the mirror before dropping to the delicate row of gold hooks down the back of her blouse. “Get your braid out of the way,” he said, voice low.
Kash did as he asked, holding her braid up with one hand. “Tia, sweetheart, can you grab some safety pins from the bathroom drawer?” she said over her shoulder. “The black tin, second drawer.”
Tia nodded and padded out of the room, leaving a trail of dupatta shimmer behind her.
Kash exhaled just as Diego stepped in close. His hands were warm—callused in all the places that made her knees go weak—as they skimmed her bare spine. He caught the first hook, slid it through the loop, then moved on to the next.
She held perfectly still, afraid that if she so much as breathed wrong, he might pull away. She wanted to turn around and ask him about that night, about what it meant, about whether he felt the same ache that was consuming her—but the words jammed in her throat, heavy and dangerous.
After he slid the final hook into place, his knuckles brushed the nape of her neck again. Kash swayed slightly, and without thinking, leaned into him—just enough that her bare back brushed his chest.
For a long beat, he didn’t move.
Her breath turned choppy as she braced for him to push her away.
Then, a rough exhale shuddered through him as his hands dropped lower, finding her hips. His fingers flexed once, gripping the curve of her bare waist with a hold that was possessive, even rough. Like he couldn’t help leaving deep divots in her flesh.
Kash bit her lip, her pulse hammering. He wasn’t pulling her closer but he wasn’t letting go either. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of his face—closed off and taut, a man at war with himself.
She almost asked. Almost broke the silence. But there was so much to lose now and the enormity of it arrested her.
Nothing in her life had prepared her to love another person so wholly. If anything, life had only taught her to be wary of such a connection, to see it as giving power to someone.
As their eyes held, that particular fear misted away, replaced by the fierce conviction that he would never use her feelings to hurt her.
So, she stayed perfectly still, breathing him in, burning this moment into her skin.
Before either of them could say a word, the sound of footsteps snapped them apart.
Kash stepped forward, her arms crossing over her stomach instinctively. Diego’s hands, she noted, dropped away with reluctance.
Tia appeared with a tiny blue tin, the wrong one entirely. “This one?”
Kash forced a smile. “No, baby, those are the saree pins. Will you check again for me, please?”
“Sure.” Tia scampered off, leaving them alone.
Diego looked at her, searching her face. Instinctively understanding that something was wrong.
“She’s not okay,” Kash said quietly, watching for Tia. “Something’s been off all day. She’s too quiet, too easily frustrated. That’s not her at all.”
He looked in the direction of the bathroom, gaze thoughtful. “Do you want me to leave you alone to talk to her?”
“No, of course not. We’re one parental unit, right?”
Their eyes locked and it was raw and real and so goddamn honest that it made her chest ache again.
She looked away first. The question about why he had been in such a strange mood that night still burned at the back of her throat, but she buried it. Right now, Tia needed both their attention.
Her niece padded back into the room, the tiny blue tin clutched to her chest. Her dupatta dragged behind her like a princess’s cape.
Kash reached for the tin with a little smile, crouching down to Tia’s level. “Thank you. I knew you would find it.”
Tia didn’t answer, only hovered close as Kash flipped the lid open and plucked out a few black safety pins. She made a show of fussing with Tia’s outfit, smoothing the delicate fabric, pinning the dupatta carefully to the tiny shoulder of her choli.
“There,” Kash declared, flicking the end of the dupatta like a magician showing off a trick. “All set, my beautiful girl.”
Tia smiled—a small, flickering thing—and Kash’s heart squeezed.
“We’re ready for the catwalk now,” Kash said, gathering her own heavy skirts and dropping cross-legged onto the rug. As she sat, the stiff silk of her lehenga ballooned up comically around her, making a giant, poofy ring.
Tia’s did the same. For a second they both stared, then burst into soft laughter.
Kash caught Diego’s smile from where he leaned casually against the bed. “Hey, come on,” she said, beckoning him. “Take a picture of my baby girl and me.”
Tia beamed and shuffled next to Kash, kneeling awkwardly in her own billowing skirts. Kash draped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her in close.
Diego pulled out his phone, framing them with an affectionate shake of his head. “Say poofy princesses,” he said dryly.
Tia giggled. Kash grinned.
The camera clicked.
As the moment settled, Kash looked down at Tia still cuddled into her side. She kept her arm around her niece, tracing slow, absentminded circles against Tia’s upper arm.
Her voice softened. “Hey,” she murmured. “You doing okay, baby? Really okay?”
Tia's hands twisted in her skirts. Her earlier smile wilted.
Kash felt her stiffen, but waited. She’d learned the waiting thing from Diego. Whenever he talked to Tia, he made sure she knew there was nothing or no one more important in the world. Which was how he acted with Kash too.
Tia’s voice came out in a rush, stumbling over itself. “I overheard Grandma and Kaif Uncle talking. I know I wasn’t supposed to but I couldn’t help it.”
Kash tried not to radiate her tension into the small frame leaning against her. “Talking about what, baby?”
Tia took the end of the silk dupatta and rolled it around her thumb. “They said things are changing. That you’re doing better now and you might get a boyfriend and then…” her small face turned to look up at Kash, eyes big and teary in her face, “and then I could live with Kaif Uncle and Muriel Aunty for a while.” She swallowed hard, blinking fiercely at the rug. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered. “I like living with you. And Papa. Even if it’s sometimes in two houses.”
Kash’s stomach twisted. She tightened her arm around Tia automatically, as if she could physically shield her from everything hurtful.
Across from them, Diego moved closer, his knee brushing Tia’s skirts, grounding her. His large hand took the little one in his, in a silent reassurance to keep going.
Tia traced the knuckles on his hand, up and down, her voice wobbly. “Everything’s changing. Kaif Uncle moved back, and now he’s marrying Muriel Aunty, and I was happy about that. But grandma said I was his niece too, not just Kash aunty’s. Since he and Muriel aunty will buy a house somewhere close, I should spend more time with them regularly.” She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, blinking up at Kash like she expected to be told she was wrong for feeling it. “Is it a lot of work for you if I live with you? I promise to be?—”
“Shhh, none of that,” Kash said, her throat burning. She cupped Tia’s cheek, forcing herself to keep her voice low, steady. “Oh, baby. Look at me.”
She waited until Tia's big, anxious eyes met hers. “You are not work at all. You don’t have to do or be anything to live with me. Just be a happy little girl, yeah?” A big shuddering breath rushed out of her. “Did you know I was the first one who held you when your Mama brought you into the world?”
Tia’s eyes glowed like rare jewels. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, and you looked at me with these big eyes, then blinked and then yawned. And ever since then, you’ve been my family. A piece of my heart. I love no one more than I love my lovely girl, Tia. Everyone knows that.”
Tia hiccupped, a tiny sound. “Everyone?”
“Yes, and nothing will change that. Your papa and you and me, whatever else happens, whoever else comes into our lives, we’ll always be each other’s family first and foremost. Yeah?”
Tia looked at Diego, who nodded, and then back at Kash. With a soft cry, she launched herself at Kash.
Kash pulled her fully into her arms, lehenga skirts crackling around them, and pressed her face into Tia’s hair. Her chest ached as the slim body trembled in her arms. “If Kaif uncle and Muriel aunty want you to visit them, that’s all it is, a visit. Your home is with me and your Papa.”
Diego shifted closer, on his knees right beside them. He reached out and rested a warm hand on Tia’s knee over the thick layers of fabric, a solid, anchoring weight.
“Whatever else you hear out there, you trust your Kash aunty, sweetheart,” he said, voice steady. “You and me and her…we’re it, okay?”
Tia nodded and burrowed deeper into Kash’s side. Kash felt her small hand reach out blindly and latch onto Diego’s wrist where it rested against her skirts.
Kash’s breath hitched. Diego’s hand gently curled around Tia’s fingers.
The three of them sat there like that, tangled together in silk and certainty. Kash closed her eyes, feeling the sheer rightness of it settle deep into her bones.
Not just for Tia. Not just for now.
Maybe she could dare to want all of it. Maybe it wasn’t greedy to want him and a real family with him. The idea bloomed inside her with an audacious ferocity.
She opened her eyes and met Diego’s over the crown of Tia’s head.
His look was full of something unspoken but unmistakable.
She didn’t say anything. Neither did he.
It was enough—for now—to hold onto this tiny, fierce circle they made together.
* * *
Not a few minutes later, Tia started twitching in their hold.
“My little butterfly wants to fly away already?” Diego said, easing her out of their arms with a chuckle.
Kash tucked the last safety pin into Tia’s choli and gave her a mock-inspecting look. "Perfect," she declared. "You’re officially the prettiest one here."
Tia giggled, twirling once, her dupatta fluttering. Her eyes, which had been clouded minutes ago, were bright again.
"Go show Muriel," Kash urged, giving her a playful little nudge. "She’s been dying to see you dressed up."
Tia needed no more encouragement. She grabbed the edges of her skirts and ran out, her laughter trailing behind her like a ribbon.
As the door clicked shut, Kash started to push herself up from the rug, but Diego was already there, offering his hand.
She took it without thinking, and he pulled her up smoothly, steadying her when the weight of her lehenga made her wobble.
“You know you’re going to have to set some boundaries with your mother at some point, right?" he said, his thumb brushing across her knuckles absently. “Both for yours and Tia’s sake?”
Kash let out a hollow laugh, tipping her head back for a second before meeting his gaze. "That’s the one person I can't be firm with," she said, voice rough. "I turn into this needy, resentful child who just wants her approval. Her concern. Anything.”
She swallowed. “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?”
“No, Kash. It’s heartbreaking.”
Kash looked away, fighting the wet heat behind her eyes. “I tell myself if I give in on just one more thing, if I stand strong for one more time, she will see it, and she will tell me how much she loves for me it.”
Before she could say more, Diego shifted closer and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones with aching tenderness.
"That's not needy or resentful," he said, with such gentleness that it was a whisper. "That's you longing for something you deserve."
The words hit harder than anything she could have prepared for. Kash pressed her face into his shoulder, breathing him in, grounding herself against the ache splintering through her.
This time, he wrapped his arms around her fully, pulling her in tight. His touch was solid, protective, certain, despite the complications between them.
"Do you want me to do it for you?" he asked, voice a rumble against her hair. "I don’t care if Neena aunty hates me."
Kash laughed against his shirt, muffled but real. "You don’t know how tempting that is," she said. "But no. I’ll talk to her. It has to come from me."
Diego pulled back just enough to see her face, brushing her hair behind her ear. “And Kaif?”
"I’ll talk to him too," she said, exhaling. "But maybe after the wedding? Muriel doesn’t deserve to be caught up in our drama.”
His thumb brushed along her jaw before he let his hands fall away, slow and reluctant. “My cousin is a blunt, shrewd, no-nonsense badass. I’d be surprised if she wasn’t chewing out Kaif already over this. But I get it that you want to take your time before confronting either of them.”
Kash shifted her skirts into place, smoothing them with restless fingers.
Diego watched her, something almost shy flickering across his face.
"You want help unhooking the blouse?" he asked casually.
Kash slid a glance at him, arching an eyebrow. "Can you keep your hands to yourself?" she teased, mouth twitching. "Or are you going to strip me fully and pin me down under you until I can’t breathe?”
Color climbed up Diego’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears.
"I didn’t mean to—" he started, flustered. "Did I... hurt you?"
Kash’s teasing softened into something real, something tender. "No," she said quietly. "You didn’t hurt me. I just... I wish you had stayed the night."
He went still.
When he spoke, his voice was quieter, edged with something fierce and raw. "That might turn this whole thing into a relationship, Doc,” he said. “We don’t want that, do we?”
Before she could answer—before she could even catch her breath—he turned and walked out of her room, leaving her standing there, skirts rustling around her ankles, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.
The warmth of his touch still lingered on her skin, stubborn and soft.
The words he’d left behind—a relationship—drifted across her lips.
The undeniable truth was that it was a relationship.
The best one she’d ever had. And it was here, with him, where she had least expected it, that she finally felt seen. Known. Even loved.
She knew now what a glorious thing it was to love and to be loved and that somehow, she had to find the courage to tell him. Even if he didn’t feel the same.