by Sonali Dev
“You know what he said? He said: ‘In that case we’re going to have to make sure you escape, aren’t we?’
“I remember thinking, ‘He sounds so posh, like an actor playing a prince in a Hollywood film.’ Isn’t that funny?”
It was. It was funny as hell, because HRH did talk that way. Ma reached out and lifted Trisha’s glasses and wiped her tears. Her fingers on Trisha’s cheeks were so warm and steady, so Ma.
“He talked like a prince, but I didn’t give a damn.” She actually blushed at the swear and Trisha wanted to hug her. But she wasn’t done. “Every man I’d ever met had made my skin crawl. Every producer, actor, all those men, they knew I didn’t want to do what I was being made to do. They took it all the same. Even the ones who never touched me—there were some who believed they were decent enough for that—even they never thought to help, to remove me from my father’s control, to stand up to him. They thought of me as my father’s property. They had this code, like they didn’t mess with another man’s property.
“Your dad, he . . . he was the only person who cared about what was right and wrong. People think he fell in love with me, because people only saw the mask on the screen. But I was too ugly for anyone to fall in love with. I showed him everything right at the beginning and it was all ugly.
“It was the fact that what my father was doing was wrong, that’s what made him dig his heels in. He would have died for me, but not for me, not at first—for what was right. He let my father’s goons break his arm rather than give me up. Because he sees right and wrong as absolutes.”
Trisha found her arms wrapped tightly around herself. It was a good thing she had her bugeye glasses on because her contacts would never have withstood this. “And he thinks what I did by introducing Julia to Yash was that absolutely wrong?”
Ma cupped her cheek. “No, silly girl. He thinks what Julia did was that absolutely wrong. And the fact that you don’t feel that way, too, is what makes him incredibly angry. He always thought you were the most like him. That you saw things in black and white too.”
“But I do! What she did disgusts me. If I could do anything to change it, I would. The guilt I felt for not stopping her, for not seeing what she was, ate me alive. It still eats at me, every single day!”
“But you’ve never said that. You’ve always acted as though we did something incredibly unfair by taking care of it the way we did. You stopped coming to family gatherings. You refused to participate in Yash’s campaign.”
“You stopped asking me to come!”
“When, Trisha? All you wanted to do was work and sulk when anyone talked about Yash’s career. You barely came home from college after that. You acted like you were being dragged into things, dragged away from your work. Always late. You know how you are. You’re so impatient with everything that’s not your work. We thought you wanted nothing to do with it.”
God, Ma wasn’t entirely wrong. Of course she wasn’t. “I just hated myself so much for what happened. She violated him, Ma. And it was because of me.” Maybe she’d wanted to be banished—because she believed she deserved it. But not anymore. Talking to Yash had changed everything. Or maybe she’d just grown up.
“You’re right, though,” Ma said. “I should have told you it wasn’t your fault. I, of all people, should have known that you needed to hear that. But . . . Yash . . . I thought I’d done everything to keep you kids safe, and—”
Trisha crawled over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her. “No, Ma. It was a lot. It was . . .” How had Ma even borne it after what she’d been through herself?
Ma stroked her hair. And she smelled so good that somehow everything didn’t seem lost. “I didn’t tell you then, but I’ll tell you now. The thing about human beings is that they heal,” Ma said. “We’re nature’s creations, we regenerate like the seasons. We just need someone to let us know that we’re worthy of healing. Yash knows that.” Then she rolled a lock of Trisha’s hair around her finger and held it tight. “And you are, too. But the healing itself, the changing, that you can only do yourself. No one else can do that for you.”
How solid Ma had always seemed, how hard she must have worked to get there, to heal herself so she could be whole for them. Her ferocious protectiveness made sense now. How had she even let them out of her sight? Trisha reached out and rolled a lock of her mother’s hair around her finger in turn. And the two of them sat there like that, soothing each other in that way that was all theirs.
“How are we going to get rid of her, Ma?”
“Well, we’re lucky the evil Ms. Wickham is also stupid. She’s gone and released the video about your patient claiming she’s dying. The last time I checked people have donated over a hundred thousand dollars. If I understand correctly, Emma Caine is going to be just fine and Julia knew this. That’s fraud, and our lawyers are on it. If DJ and his sister cooperate, we can send her to jail, or at least use it as leverage to make sure she stays out of our hair and out of our state.”
Oh God. Did DJ know the video was out? There was no way that he would have authorized it.
Ma didn’t look worried. Ruthless, badass Ma. And that made Trisha feel like everything would be okay.
“Did I just see you spit out a chocolate-blueberry muffin earlier?” her mother asked suddenly. “Are you sick?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
DJ had been staring at Emma’s monitors like a hypnotist’s victim and drifting in and out of sleep. It had been two days since Emma’s surgery. She had regained consciousness a few times for only a handful of minutes at a time. For the most part, her body was too filled with drugs and painkillers for her to be coherent, but she had mumbled his name when she’d woken.
All he’d been able to do was hold her hand and tell her he was right here.
Trisha had said it might take her a few days to actually wake up, but she insisted that Emma was going to make a full recovery. Which was all the assurance DJ needed. She came by several times a day to check on Emma and each time she stopped by, his confidence rose, along with other feelings.
It had been coming on slowly, but he was plagued with the sense of having made a huge mistake, of having lost something because he was too stupid to know its value. Worse yet, he knew he had done something unforgivable. He had hurt someone unfairly. Trisha didn’t deserve the things he’d said to her. Not even remotely. But how did you take words like that back?
He’d been dreaming about a strangely elongated figure stuffing her lush, wide mouth with ladoos without pause when a hand shook him awake. “DJ.”
He opened his eyes to find Julia standing over him.
“Oh,” he said and jumped up.
“Hi!” She leaned forward to give him a hug, but he pulled an Emma maneuver and shook her hand. Seeing that she was hauling her camera made discomfort prickle at him.
She noticed the look he threw at the camera and put it down on one of the tables. “You never told me Emma had gone into surgery. How is she? You? Can I get you something? Some coffee?”
He was a tea drinker. Had never gotten into coffee, which was a minor miracle after living in Paris, and a major miracle after working with Andre.
Come to think of it, Andre was the most arrogant man DJ knew—almost obnoxiously so—and he had never once held that against his boss.
“No, thank you. I just had chai.” The taste of the chai Ashna had brought in again today was still fresh in his mouth, her words about Trisha from the other day still fresh in his mind.
She won’t let anyone down. It would kill her.
What must being betrayed by a friend have done to her?
“DJ? Are you okay?” Julia studied him. It seemed like everyone had taken to studying him, possibly because he’d turned into an arse who had no idea what was going on in his own head.
“I’m fine. I’m told Emma will be fine too. Thanks to her doctor.”
The look on Julia’s face turned a little amused, a little hurt. “It’s really endearing, isn’t it? Th
at poor little rich girl act? It has a way of finding its way under your skin really quickly.”
He laughed. Quite the contrary. It had taken too bloody long. “What’s endearing is the fact that she found a way to convince my sister to have surgery and then spent ten hours saving her life.” Did he say endearing? It wasn’t just endearing, it was enough to knock him right off his feet and onto his bum. He’d never seen anything as fierce as Trisha in that moment when the paramedics had wheeled Emma into the hospital. And she’d done it after he had hurt her more than he’d ever hurt anyone in his life.
She had called Ashna because he was in the waiting room alone. In the middle of her surgery she had thought about how to make this easier on him.
“Be careful. She’s got a way of getting to you.”
Yeah, no bloody joking. “She’s Emma’s doctor and that’s what’s important right now, not who’s getting to me and why.”
“Hey, I know. Emma’s health is all that matters. I get that. That’s why I’m here; despite the fact that her doctor would have me thrown out of the hospital if she knew I was here, I’m here. For Emma. For you. I thought we were friends.”
He had thought they were, too, but she had lied to him. An awful, ugly lie, covering up an awful, ugly act. “Thanks so much for coming.”
She stepped close to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Anything you need. Emma’s like a sister to me. I’m really going to miss her.”
He pulled away. What was wrong with the woman? Emma wasn’t going anywhere.
Julia held on to his arm. “I meant I’m going to miss her because I won’t be filming her anymore. Relax. What’s happened to you? We’re on the same side here. In fact, now that I’m not working with Emma, it would not be unethical for me to say yes if you asked me out.”
DJ tried to be gentle as he removed her hand from his arm.
“So you’re fine about not releasing the film?”
She stepped back with a laugh. “Did you just change subjects on me? Are you blowing me off? After all the time I spent on your sister, you want me to get nothing in return?”
“I’m really sorry to have wasted your time.” Although she’d known going in that Emma was not terminal, nor a great candidate for her film. “I’ll compensate you for your time, if you’d like.”
“You’re not really that naive, are you? You paying me back doesn’t pay for everything I’ve put into this. Listen, I know right now you’re feeling hopeful. But Trisha’s never going to go for you. Her family won’t let her.”
DJ threw a look at Emma. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation here, now. “Can we not talk about this here?” He stepped away from the bed and pulled the curtain around Emma.
“What’s gotten into you, DJ?” She pressed her hand against his chest and stepped closer.
He was about to remove her hand again when he heard a sound by the door.
Trisha stood there looking like someone had stuck a stake through her heart. “I’m sorry, I’ll come back later.” Her eyes hitched on Julia’s hand on his chest, and pain flared there, quick and intense.
Before he could stop her, she turned away and was gone.
He was about to follow her when Julia held his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. “So I was right. The poor little rich girl did get to you.”
“She’s Emma’s doctor.”
“I saw how you looked at her. Are you crazy? You’re a cook. She would never think of you as an equal.” There was such naked hatred in her eyes, he could imagine clearly what she had done to Trisha at seventeen.
Even now, with how much she valued those she loved, those she chose to let in, Trisha’s feelings were like exposed live wires. How much this woman must have destroyed in her when she’d been that young. And now he had made Trisha vulnerable to her again, because he had allowed himself to be blinded by his pride.
“I don’t think she’s the one who doesn’t think of me as her equal.” He removed her hand from his arm. Again. And took several steps away from her.
“I see.” How had he thought her eyes pretty? There was a flat immobility to them, and it made a strange mix with the cold certainty on her face of someone who believed they’d been irreversibly wronged.
“And how do you think this affair is going to end up when the Rajes learn that their daughter has gotten mixed up with a terrorist?”
The screech of a cart sounded in the distance. He realized with a start that it wasn’t in the distance at all; he’d slammed into the cart behind him when he’d stumbled back. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, have you not told your girlfriend that you were arrested for arson as part of a racially motivated terrorist attack?” she asked casually, reaching for her camera.
“You’re entirely insane.”
“What I am is a good journalist. Just because you’re blinded by the Raje glow, and fickle—don’t think I didn’t see how you looked at me when we first met—I’m not giving up my credibility as a journalist. I’ve released Emma’s film. I was going to share the donations with you, but now I’m not so sure.” She pulled a sheaf of papers from her bag. “This is a release form for the film. Sign it and I won’t go to the Rajes with your background. Oh, and if you think your girlfriend won’t care—because I know she’s dumb when it comes to things like that—I assure you that the family will care. And imagine the field day the press will have when I go to them with the fact that Yash Raje and his family are associating with a terrorist. You can’t cook fund-raising dinners for a candidate who doesn’t get to run, now, can you?”
TRISHA COULD HAVE sworn that she had made some progress with DJ over the past two days. She hadn’t hoped for much, but something about the way he looked at her had changed. There was a tenderness to him that made her extremities tingle and her insides warm. He’d never been like that with her before. It had made her hope that at least he didn’t dislike her anymore. Evidently, she was wrong. The least he could have done was warn her that he was with Julia.
How could he be with her? How? It just didn’t make sense. Was she drugging him too? Was she blackmailing him? Maybe he was sacrificing himself for Trisha. Maybe he was secretly in love with Trisha and bearing Julia’s horrible presence to protect Trisha and her family from threat of ruin.
Trisha groaned. She shouldn’t have binge-watched nineties Bollywood films on Netflix last night.
She heard a knock on her office door and sat up.
Julia walked in and without an invitation dropped into the chair across from Trisha’s desk.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“You don’t own this hospital, Trisha. It’s public property. You don’t own everything”
Actually, the hospital was private property. But arguing with Julia would only make her crazier.
“What do you want?” Best to make this quick, because the sight of Julia in her beloved office was making her nauseated.
“I’ve slept with him, you know,” Julia said with absolute calm.
Don’t rise to her bait. Do not. “With whom?”
“Funny. You know exactly whom. You always had that face, transparent as a fishbowl. But it would figure that a princess whose family takes care of everything for her would never have to learn how to hide her feelings. Because God help anyone who would dare to hurt her.” She mock trembled.
“And yet, here you are.”
The original plan to not rise to her bait was much smarter, because Julia didn’t like that. Her eyes went glassier with anger.
“I’ve had to do it all myself, Sha-Sha,” she said, making the nickname sound ugly. “Someone like you would never understand that. I’ve had to care for me, my whole life. There was no one else. Excuse me for stepping on your little feelings along the way.”
You didn’t step on my feelings, you sick fuck. You drugged and sexually assaulted my brother and then tried to ruin him. The words almost burst from her tongue. But Trisha held them in because she wasn’t
going to let her anger risk Yash by turning Julia’s focus on him. “How is hurting everyone who tries to be your friend taking care of yourself?” That she did say. She had to say it. But even as she said it, she knew it would make no difference. Julia didn’t understand how things like love and friendship worked. “If you stopped for one moment to think about giving instead of taking, you might not be so alone.”
If Trisha had thought Julia was angry before, now she came unhinged with rage. “You want me to give?” she snarled. “You selfish bitch. You know what? You know how many news channels would pay me to give them an interview about Yash? About what your family did to me? Maybe that’s what I’ll give.”
Trish stood, blood pounding in her ears. Screw being compassionate. Holding back was not going to work. “And if you do, you’ll go to jail. Your NDA is watertight, and you know it. If you so much as mention my brother in the media, our lawyers will make sure you regret ever being that stupid. You can’t touch what you did to Yash back then and you know it.”
Julia’s jaw tightened with frustration. She didn’t have a response to that. Which was both a relief and terrifying. Her being here didn’t have anything to do with the video, but that just meant Julia had something else up her ugly sleeve. “Actually, why are you even back?”
That made her smile. She loved having information Trisha wanted, loved having something, anything, Trisha wanted. “Did you think you could just throw me out like garbage and then have Yash saunter into the governor’s mansion without consequences? Do you have any idea what my life’s been like for the past fifteen years?”
With the amount her family had paid her, Trisha guessed it couldn’t have been too bad, but Julia’s eyes glittered with satisfaction as though she’d been dying to tell Trisha. This was why she was back; she’d seen Yash’s news as the perfect time to seek redemption from Trisha for having wronged her.
