“It was dark when we got back. We sort of just headed for bed. Socializing that much and loud parties really wiped me out.” I yawned.

“Uh-huh…” She searched the room. “Where’s—”

Sunny emerged from the bedroom, one towel wrapped low over his waist, exposing a sexy V-cut, while he rubbed another towel on his wet hair. He froze the second he saw Diya and Kimo, streams of water dripping down his neck and chest.

His eyes didn’t linger on Diya, but shifted over to me. I was staring shamelessly because damn! How was I ever going to not mentally undress him during work?

Diya whipped her head back to me, standing in between us, shocked. But only for a millisecond. A giant smile spread across her face as she exclaimed, “Bitch, you did finally get some!”

“Oh my god…”

Then she had the audacity to whip her head toward Sunny. “You apparently got it right!”

He didn’t even respond. No shock or embarrassment or regret. Just a nod, like he knew damn well that he got it right. He backtracked into the bedroom. “I should get dressed.”

Diya took out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I went for her, but she jumped away.

“I have to tell Mummie!”

“Why? Are you serious?” I ran after her, but that little girl was fast. Always had been.

“She wanted me to call her the second I knew for sure!”

“That we had sex?”

“No! Gross! That you’re serious!”

“You don’t know anything!”

Ugh, this was bad.

“Diya, stop! Please! Don’t tell her anything!”

She scuffled to the other side of the couch.

“Or I will tell her you’re thinking about marrying Kimo,” I spat point-blank, my hands on my hips.

That got her to stop and put away her phone. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would. You’re trying to tell her something that will make her think I have a solid, long-term serious relationship that could inevitably lead to marriage. That’s a big deal. If you tell her that, about something this new, then you better believe she’s going to know about you and Kimo.”

She shivered like she was shaking off my words. “I’m sure she’s expecting it.”

“Don’t get her hopes up. We don’t know where we are, but we’re definitely not there.”

“Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just…we’re all so excited,” Diya said.

“I know,” I replied softly, “but everyone needs to calm down.”

Having to eventually tell my family the truth was getting harder by the minute. Seemed like telling them that Sunny and I weren’t going to work out and leaving it at that was the obvious solution. Although who was I kidding? My family was going to hammer me for details, for any indication of what went wrong and how it could be fixed. They would be on me again, tougher than ever, on how I needed to move forward with my life.

But particularly so because they seemed to adore Sunny, even if they’d known him for only a short while. I couldn’t blame them. This Sunny, the real Sunny, was particularly likable. And this Sunny was going to break my heart every time I saw him.

Thirty-four Sunny

It was extremely touching that Diya and Kimo took the time to bring us breakfast and coffee and to spend one last meal together before sending me off.

I hated knowing they were taking to our lies so well. And worse than that, I hated that this was a lie. I wanted there to be an “us” beyond today. But how could I say that, admit it? Would Bane think I was joking? Feel pity? Get uncomfortable?

I thought I was getting better at expressing myself with her. So why was it so hard to just ask her what she thought of us beyond today?

I ate a little of everything that Kimo had been generous enough to bring. I even offered to pay for it, but he wasn’t having it.

In front of us was a generous spread of semisweet almond matcha cake dusted in powdered sugar, creamy almond croissants, flaky buttered rolls, bite-size Portuguese custard tarts, apple and fig jam sandwiches, and an ube sweet cream cold brew for me.

Kimo had gotten Bane her favorite—I was honestly expecting an ube latte. Instead, it was a toasted marshmallow chai with homemade whipped cream.

I quirked a brow.

“I know,” she said, taking a sip and licking whipped cream off her lips. “Don’t denote my Indianness because I enjoy a chai latte. Try it.”

Sharing drinks had become second nature.

“It’s fine,” I said after a taste.

“Fine?”

“It’s good.”

“Why can’t you just say that!”

“I just did!”

“Can you guys ever have a conversation without yelling at each other?” Diya asked.

“No,” Bane retorted. “Can you?”

A conversation without yelling? But yelling without fighting? This took me back to when Bane explained such an odd thing being part of Diya and Kimo’s love language. Had it become something of affection for us, too? Bickering, but in an endearing way?

My phone kept going off with texts, marring this quaint ending to my time with Diya and Kimo.

“Is that important? Should you reply?” Bane asked.

“My sister telling me to have a nice flight home and the group text wondering where we’re at because they’re having drinks before leaving.”

“Sunny!” Bane tugged me out of my chair.