Aditi stood between her mother and brother, tucked under Raj’s arm, while Nayna stood on his left, her fingers linked to his. Komal stood on his mother’s right side. A distraught Navin had finally responded, calling Raj to say he was on his way, but that had only been twenty minutes earlier.
“The good news,” Dr. Olivier said, “is that it all went perfectly, and barring any unforeseen complications, Mr. Sen should recover fully.”
Raj’s fingers squeezed tight on hers even as he calmly asked the doctor more detailed questions about what they could expect going forward. The overriding theme—aside from dietary changes on which they’d be further advised by a hospital nutritionist—was that his father would need lots of care and wasn’t to do anything strenuous for a number of months.
“Mr. Sen will also need to manage his stress levels,” Dr. Olivier added. “Stress is terrible for the heart, and speaking from two decades of experience, I can tell you it’ll impede his recovery.”
The doctor, tiredness apparent in his own features, looked around. “Now, I think you should all go home and get some rest. Mr. Sen is in intensive care and will stay there for at least forty-eight hours.”
“Dr. Olivier, my mother needs to see my father.” Raj’s voice was firm.
The doctor took in Mrs. Sen’s tear-worn face and said, “Please come with me. For now, you’ll be the only visitor.” His eyes met Raj’s. “The staff will let you know as soon as the rest of your family is clear to go in. It’ll be immediate family only until he’s out of ICU.”
Raj let go of her hand to take care of the goodbyes with his uncles and aunts, promising everyone updates as soon as he had them. Aditi stayed with Nayna. Komal, meanwhile, kept glancing at her watch, then over toward the nearby elevators.
Raj’s brother walked out of an elevator ten minutes after the extended family had departed. His eyes were hollow. “Bhaiya?” he said, looking at Raj.
“Dad’s fine, recovering in ICU. Ma’s with him.” Raj squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Komal’s been with us all night, decoding the medical jargon.”
Navin went immediately to Komal, wrapping her up in his arms. The other woman didn’t hesitate to hug him back, and Nayna’s heart sighed.
“Maybe we’ll get a happy ending for those two after all,” she murmured to Raj while Aditi was distracted and collecting her coat from the chair where she’d left it.
Raj took in his brother and sister-in-law in silence before hugging Nayna close. When Aditi came over, the two of them stretched out one arm each and brought her into the embrace. And though Raj held them both, he allowed Nayna to hold him in return. Her big, tough lover let her see his need.
And it smashed another wall in her heart.
40
A Scene Fit for Bollywood
Nayna parted ways with Raj in the hospital parking lot. He was driving his mother and sister home. Komal and Navin were heading out in Komal’s car as Navin—afraid he was over the alcohol limit for driving—had caught a ride in with a friend.
After settling his mother and Aditi in his truck, Raj took the time to walk Nayna to her car. Sangeeta Sen had been in full agreement when he stopped Nayna from going off on her own. “It’s still dark outside,” she’d said sternly. “Aditi and I will lock the truck doors and wait for Raj to return.”
The parking lot was awash in light, but Nayna didn’t reject the offer. Mostly because she wanted to have a moment alone with Raj. “Get some rest, all right?” she said to him when they stopped by her car.
His hand cupping her jaw, his thumb stroking over her lips. “You’ll be okay driving home?” he asked, searching her face. “Not feeling sleepy?”
“I have so much caffeine in my blood that tired is the last thing I feel.” Turning her head, she kissed his palm. “I’ll be fine. And if your mother and Aditi want me to come over tomorrow, just let me know.” She’d work it out with her bosses.
Raj kissed her, the pain in him making her want to give and give—but Raj’s family needed him right now. “When you have time,” she said against his lips, “I’ll be here. Anything you need, Raj.”
Another primal kiss before he released her. “Message me when you arrive home.”
Well aware of how shaken his heart was right then, Nayna said, “As soon as I’m inside.”
Her headlights flashed off Raj’s body as he stood watching her leave, and she felt a wild desperation to go back and get in his car, go home with him, hold him. He might never be a big talker when it came to his emotions, but he spoke to her with his body, allowed his shields to fall when he was in her arms.
But going home with him was simply not an option.
Her parents and his parents might be willing to overlook the fact they were spending considerable time together, but neither party would overlook it if she ended up in Raj’s bed so close to where his family lived. Not even if she just wanted to put her arms around him while he slept.
It’d be considered disrespectful in the extreme, especially in the current circumstances.
Nayna banged her fisted hand on the steering wheel, frustrated with herself. Because the thing was, she would never do that to her parents or his. The freedom to make her own choices didn’t mean spitting in the faces of those she loved and respected.
It didn’t mean throwing dirt on the tradition that was such a core part of Raj.
The color and the joy of their culture, the huge families and the extended relationships, it all mattered to Nayna and always would. She had a hundred aunties if not more, barely one percent of them related to her by any kind of blood. All those women—Batty Auntie included—would drop whatever they were doing if she ever needed serious help.
Despite all that, today she wished that it didn’t matter that she wasn’t married to Raj. She wanted the right to be by his side, to curl up around her rock of a man and hold him through the coldest hours of the night.
* * *
It wasn’t until two more nights had passed that Nayna saw Raj’s father at last. Knowing the doctors wanted to keep Jitesh Sen in as restful a state as possible, she hadn’t asked for an earlier visitation. Honestly, his immediate family were likely the only ones he wanted to see anyway.
However, when she dropped by the hospital that evening with some requested takeout for the younger members of the family, Raj—still in his work gear—said, “My dad was asking about you.”
“Oh.” Nayna put the takeout on a table inside the whānau room—a space designed for families of patients—then went to stand in front of where he sat in a visitor chair.
She ran her fingers through his hair, straightening the wind-tumbled strands. “That’s good, isn’t it?” Raj had told her that his father had been sluggish and slow for the past couple of days, but that the physicians were telling them it was to be expected after the major surgery.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Raj laid his head against her navel and let her play with his hair as he exhaled, and her heart, it broke into a million fragments. When it put itself back together, Raj was in every nook and every cranny, the cracks woven back together with his name as the glue.
She loved him. More than she’d ever loved anyone her entire life.
The hole that love put in her defenses, the sacrifices she was ready to make to ensure his happiness, it scared her… but she didn’t stop petting his hair.
“Yes,” Raj said. “He called you my ‘pretty Nayna.’ ‘Where’s your pretty Nayna, Raj? Doesn’t she want to visit a sick old man?’”
“I hope you told him it was on doctor’s orders.”
“I think he’s decided he likes being a cranky patient.” A tightening of his arms around her before he drew back.
Nayna wondered if he could see her heart, exposed and without barriers. “Where are your mum and sister?”
“They’re with him. I was just waiting for you.”
“Are Navin and Komal here too?”
“They spent the afternoon with him while I gave Aditi the task of getting our mother to nap—she’s barely been sleeping.” Raj stood and put his hand on the lower part of her back. “Aditi gained victory by crawling into bed, and, according to her, ‘acting like a needy baby’ so our mother would cuddle her.”
Nayna laughed. “And napdom was achieved?”