Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
D iego’s thoughts were a goddamn whirl.
His body vibrated with energy, as if he were back on the pitch before a championship game, lungs too full, legs tight with anticipation.
But it wasn’t nerves weighing him down tonight, it was excitement. Pure, heart-bursting excitement.
The news from this afternoon’s meeting still hadn't settled fully in his chest.
Two full scholarships.
Which meant two kids would get to train at his academy for free because of the benefactor Kash had introduced him to. Simon’s old friend turned out to be not just a soccer fanatic but a Diego Ferrera fan, and the conversation had gone from cautiously optimistic to soul-filling within a single lunch.
Diego hadn’t seen Kash all day since he’d been gone for most of it. Hadn’t told her the great news yet. He had typed numerous texts to tell her and then deleted them all. Because he wanted to see her face when he did, see her eyes light up. Maybe she would hug him, even kiss him.
God, he was a goner.
He would tell her at the Sangeet function tonight. If he could stop pacing inside his own damn skin long enough to find the right words. If he could find two private minutes with her. Which was a big ask now that her two besties Mona and Chaaru had arrived in town late last night.
Not that he begrudged her the sheer joy he had seen in her eyes in passing as she hugged them. Neither had he missed the broad smile that Chaaru had given him or the saucy wink Mona had thrown at him.
Feeling like a teenager who’d gotten his note across to his crush, he looked around him.
The banquet hall pulsed softly around him, decked out in glowing gold and pink and vivid jewel tones. Fairy lights spiderwebbed across the ceiling, weaving through swaths of gauzy silk saris that cascaded down like waterfalls at the corners of the room.
The air smelled of cardamom, spiced rum, and something sweet and fried from the food stations lined along the far wall. Low tables framed the dance floor, each lit with small brass lanterns and little bowls of marigolds. The DJ in the corner tested the speakers, a low thrum of bass rattling faintly under the chatter of early guests.
It felt warm. Alive. Exactly what Muriel deserved on one of her big days.
Diego smoothed a hand down the front of his kurta—dark navy with a little shimmer, tailored close to his body, sleeves rolled once at the wrists.
Traditional enough to blend in. Casual enough that he loved it.
He barely registered when Kaif appeared at his side until the man clapped him on the shoulder.
“Man, you outdid yourself with tonight’s arrangements,” Kaif said, looking around the hall with open appreciation.
The groom-to-be wore a shimmering olive-green kurta, sleeves buttoned, hair tamed but not stiff, his usual guarded expression easier than Diego had ever seen it. A thick gold chain hung outside the Nehru collar.
“Muriel’s over the moon at the décor and the DJ,” Kaif continued, not minding Diego’s silence. “Mama said this particular caterer always has years’ worth waiting list. I don’t know how you swung it.”
Diego shrugged.
A grin pulled at the corner of Kaif’s mouth, emphasizing his sharp looks without his usual brooding. “Thanks for making this night so grand for us, Diego. I mean it.”
“Muriel’s like a sister to me. I would do anything to ensure her happiness,” Diego said, meaning every word. “Make sure you don’t disappoint her, Kaif.”
Like your sister, the words floated on Diego’s lips but he shoved them back. This wasn’t the time or place and Kash had asked him not to interfere. However much it annoyed him.
He wanted to take care of her, whether it was against burnout, or a breakdown, or blundering family members.
Kaif shifted, then turned to face him more fully, his hand still braced lightly on Diego’s arm. His expression changed, something quieter settling behind his eyes.
“You’ll be happy to know that I took a leaf out of your book today,” he said, voice low enough that it got swallowed by the rising music. “Stood up for my sister finally. Let her know how much she’s loved. How much we appreciate her.” In the pause, Kaif swallowed and tugged at his collar. “It’s late but I’m here now, to give her whatever she needs. And Mama knows to change the way she sees Kash too. How she speaks to her.”
The words hit Diego like a strike to the ribs.
He stared at Kaif for a second longer than he should have, the weight of them knocking him off balance. Something raw and bright opened up in his chest on her behalf. “I guess Muriel’s spot on as always, with making the right choice,” he said with a chuckle.
“Huh?” Kaif said, looking bewildered.
“She always said there was more to you,” Diego said, teasing.
Kaif laughed without rancor. “I owe you big for looking after?—”
“No, you don’t,” Diego said, cutting him off. “Kash and Tia are all that matter.” The words left him before he realized what they betrayed.
Kaif didn’t even look surprised. Nodding, he pulled Diego into a hard, brief hug. Strangely enough, the embrace was neither awkward nor careful, but full of gratitude and relief.
When they pulled apart, Kaif hesitated for a second, mouth parting like he had something else to say. But then he just shook his head, clapped Diego’s shoulder again, and walked away into the growing crowd.
Leaving Diego buzzing harder than before. Only now it wasn’t just excitement humming under his skin. It was hope.
Had Kash told her brother about them? Did that mean she’d had a chance to process of what they had become? What they could, if she gave them even half a chance?
* * *
Not a half-hour into the evening, Diego regretted agreeing to Muriel inviting his mother’s friends’ daughters to tonight’s Sangeet function. For the express purpose of ‘meeting him’. For the sneakier purpose of showing Kash that she had competition.
Both were sweet, pretty women but he had eyes and ears, and heart, for only one woman. Who hadn’t even arrived yet at the hall.
For a few seconds, he considered ignoring them. Which would be the height of discourtesy—and a valid reason for his Mama to box his ears—so here he was, listening to one of them go on about how her neighbor's dog had once predicted the weather better than the local news.
At least the other one had a brother interested in soccer and had made for interesting conversation.
Even at his best behavior, Diego couldn’t help glancing toward the banquet hall doors like an idiot waiting for Christmas morning. And then, he felt her before he saw her.
A shift in the air. A current down his spine. He turned, and there she was.
Kash stood just inside the entrance with Mona, Chaaru, and Tia, the soft golden light catching on her hair and gilding the edges of her pink pantsuit like a halo.
The fitted cut of her jacket hugged her body with sharp, precise lines. The gold tube top beneath it shimmered every time she shifted her weight. A small, high-waisted gold belt cinched the jacket close, and delicate sandals flashed at her feet. It was impossible to look away from the stunning figure she made.
Around him, the noise of the hall swelled—clink of glasses, a bass-heavy Bollywood beat thudding from the speakers, the laughter of cousins spilling over from the bar. Spanish and Hindi mingling and separating, like a river and its tributaries.
And yet, to him, the world and its sounds and its sights narrowed down to Kash.
Fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, throwing playful reflections over her cheekbones and the strong line of her jaw. She laughed at something Mona said, her head tipping back just slightly.
Diego’s heart clenched so hard it hurt.
She was stunningly beautiful. She had always been.
But tonight, something was different.
He watched, helpless at this point, as she and her friends made their way deeper into the crowd. Saw her mother Neena intercept her halfway across the hall in a flash of green and gold sari and tightly pinned hair.
For a second, Diego tensed, instinctively bracing for Kash’s guarded smile. How she bowed those proud shoulders just a little, as if she needed to protect herself. He was all the way across the hall and was glad to see Mona and Char stick close to her.
Neena leaned in and said something, her hand resting briefly on Kash’s arm. Kash stiffened, the old reflex kicking in.
Diego saw her almost pull back, mask herself. And then she didn’t.
A soft, tentative smile touched her lips at whatever her mother said before patting Kash’s hand. His own relief was like laying down a boulder.
God, how he adored this woman, how he would put the world at her feet if only she asked him to.
As if she could hear his thoughts, or maybe sense his desperation, across the shifting sea of guests, Kash’s eyes found his.
A single, electric second passed between them. Not a smile. Not a wave.
Just a stillness, charged and private, in the middle of the noise.
Diego couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
He wanted to go to her, wanted to close the distance, pull her into him, hold her tight, make plans for their future together.
A sharp tug on his sleeve broke the spell. “Come on!”
One of the women at his side laughed. “You can’t come to a Sangeet and not dance. It's basically a crime.”
Someone else, a cousin or maybe one of Muriel’s friends, was waving him toward the dance floor where a group was gathering, the first beats of a popular Bollywood song pulsing under the fairy lights.
With a sigh, Diego let himself be pulled along.
Kash was watching him—he could feel it like a brand on his skin—but she hadn’t moved.
He stepped into the surge of dancers, his body moving automatically to the rhythm, his heart hammering for a different reason altogether.
Just wait, he told himself. Trust this connection between you two.
She would come to him when she was ready. And when she did, he would never let go again.
* * *
The banquet hall exploded in color and light the moment Kash stepped through the open doors with Mona, Chaaru, and Tia at her side.
For a second, she simply breathed it in—the heady mix of spinning lehenga skirts, bursts of laughter, the thick pulse of bass reverberating under her heels.
The golden fairy lights strung across the ceiling turned the whole space into a glowing, living thing, draped with deep magenta and peacock-blue fabrics that billowed at the corners like banners in a warm, invisible breeze.
The scent of marigolds and spice floated heavy on the air, layered over the buttery richness of samosas and frying sweets coming from the food tables along the far wall.
A smile curved Kash’s mouth, the silk of her pink jacket whispering against her bare skin.
It was beautiful.
Exactly what Muriel and Kaif deserved—a celebration full of color and music and people who loved them. She added another reason to thank Diego, to the already long list.
Her friends flanked her, laughing and adjusting their outfits. Chaaru flashing a glittery bangle, Mona snagging a mocktail from a passing waiter with a grin. Tia, in a twirling rose-pink lehenga, darted ahead toward a cluster of cousins squealing near the dessert table.
Kash stayed back a half step, letting the scene wash over her. She tipped her head back slightly, breathing it in, the way the lights blurred into soft halos, the clink of glass and music vibrating up through her heels.
For the first time in a long, long time, she felt… whole and light. Free of the unknown weight she’d dragged along for so long.
Before she knew it, her gaze was sweeping the hall, searching, seeking.
For him.
The crowd surged and dipped around her in a river of bright colors, flashes of jewelry, men in slim-fitted kurtas and women in embroidered silks. For a heartbeat, she didn’t see him, and her pulse kicked up irrationally.
She turned slightly to say something to Mona and caught him across the room. And froze.
Diego stood near the colorful drinks station, dark-haired and devastating in a navy-blue kurta that clung to the breadth of his shoulders, dark hair slicked back to reveal the rugged planes of his face. He wasn’t alone though.
Two unfamiliar women flanked him, laughing, leaning in, their earrings flashing under the fairy lights. Diego smiled at something one of them said, that easy charm of his on full display.
For a few moments, the ground under Kash’s heels seemed to tip sideways. A stupid, hot knot tightened low in her stomach, stealing her breath.
She tried to tell herself it was nothing. He was being friendly and charming which came to him naturally. But the old insecurities rushed at her fast and hard.
Maybe you waited too long. Maybe he wants someone who can talk about her feelings. Maybe he’s bored already and wants to move on...
Her hand tightened around the slim glass stem of the drink someone placed in her hand.
Mona bumped her hip gently against Kash’s, her voice lowered to a whisper. She had clearly noticed what had arrested Kash’s attention. "Want us to go tackle him off the dance floor for you?"
Kash made herself breathe. Made herself smile, even if it felt like dragging a net up from the bottom of her chest. "No," she said in a thankfully steady voice. Her fingers loosened around her glass.
She let herself look again, really look.
Diego was charming, yes, his grin was quick, his manner easy, even flirtatious. When they moved, he danced with a fluidity that spoke of how confident he was in his body. But the flirting and the laughter and the celebrity persona he put on was only a part of him. The surface part of him.
Hadn’t she been fooled by it for a long while too, thinking nothing substantial existed beneath the charm? It was what he showed the world. Especially the one that already assumed that he’d had his moment in the spotlight and was now going to coast through the rest of his life cashing it in.
The icy solitude of her fears cracked at the thought, and she made herself look again, instead of reacting from a place of insecurities.
His shoulders were a little too stiff, his laughter a little too quick. And while he pretended to be focused on the sparkling conversation with his partners, his attention was far away.
Kash exhaled, a slow, deep breath that settled into her bones.
She knew what it was like when his entire focus was on her—it was as if she was the only star in the universe. She knew, she reminded herself.
“Kash?” Char prompted her with a hand on her wrist. “You okay?”
Kash turned and let her friends see that she was indeed alright. “It’s on, ladies. He wants public display, he’ll get one.”
Mona clinked their glasses together with a loud cheer.
As if on cue, the music shifted to a bright, playful Bollywood classic surging to life over the speakers. Around her, people clapped and whistled, the energy rising like a wave.
Chaaru grinned and nudged her drink-hand upward slightly. "Showtime," she whispered.
Kash lifted her glass to her lips, tossed back the last of the sweet, tart drink, and set it down neatly on a side table.
She had only had weeks to prepare for tonight. But like riding a bike, the moves and the rhythm and the ease came back to her muscles as if she had been dancing all along. It helped that Char and Mona and she had stuck to a strict practice schedule every night for three weeks.
She let the music ripple through her, loosening the last tethers of fear, as she slipped through the gathering crowd. Her besties trailed behind her with excited smiles.
The floor ahead of the stage cleared, a small cluster of guests edging towards their seats at the tables.
Taking a small detour, Kash slipped out of her pants and jacket, and pulled on a glitzy, satin gold skirt that matched her tube top.
Cheers broke out as she and her friends climbed the few steps onto the stage, her heart thudding hard but steady. The fairy lights overhead turned the gold of her tube top and skirt into molten metal.
She felt free, alive, and so full of hope that it wouldn’t be strange if it shone out of her pores like glitter. She turned slightly, catching Diego’s dark gaze from across the crowd—fixed, unblinking, locked onto her like gravity itself.
The first notes of the music swelled around her. She threw an arm up high behind her and lost herself in the beat. Not before she managed to wink at the man watching her like she was the sun itself.