“Way to go, Sabina.”
Sam shook his head. “I took this place knowing my parents wanted it for my younger brother. I took it early, did not wait for the norm of moving in when I had a family of my own. I live with that. I knew it would mean I would lose my family, but this was more important. I traded a family for an apartment. That’s the kind of man I am.”
“Why?” Meena asked.
He turned his head to look at her. “Does it matter?”
“Intent and motive say more about a person than their action.”
“Did a psychologist tell you that?”
“A prince who owned a Grand Prix race car. He liked power, said he needed it to protect his people. He led to keep them content. As I talked to him, I learned that his intentions were different. He liked to dominate, he liked that his people were afraid of him. Did you want this apartment as payback for your parents loving your younger brother more?”
Sam laughed. “Hell no. They are who they are, and I liked living three thousand miles from them, still do.” He rubbed the top of her hand with his knuckles. “I grew up knowing this apartment was going to be mine. Not through my parents but my grandfather. He told me stories of his father, how this place came to be theirs. You know the cliché home is where the heart is? This was home to me, just as it was to my great-grandfather. He came to this country, by boat, in 1930, to study in a place where he probably wasn’t welcome, even with his money. I was teased for smelling like curry when I was young; I can’t imagine what my grandfather put up with.
“But he had this place, and other people like him. They all made it into a home where they belonged. In this house they were just men who came to get an education so they could go back and rebuild their own country after the British pillaged and divided it. I’m a part of something bigger when I live here.”
“It fits you. This place.”
He smiled. “It’s my home. Even though it came at a cost.”
“My father used to say hurt begets hurt,” Meena said. “Your parents played a part in this by not stepping out of the way, by making you fight for a place that was rightfully yours.”
“I didn’t earn it.”
“You can say the same about me. About the aunties, anyone who lived here after they did.”
“Using logic against me?”
Meena squeezed his hand. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“You’re only saying that because you want me to go out with you.”
She shrugged. “You already said yes.”
“A Valentine’s Day date,” Sam said. “Are you going to bring me flowers?”
“I’ll grab some from the giant bouquet in the hall.”
“Too easy. I want to be wooed, so I’ll tell you that my favorite flower is a buttercup.”
She laughed, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to spend more time with a man. She didn’t want instant gratification but the slow buildup, the deepening, that would grow into something more.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
A few days later, Meena was still thinking about Sam. She’d spent most of her past decade surrounded by people who all wove in and out of each other’s lives. Yes, she had a network she was a part of, but there was a common thread in their work. This was different. Sam didn’t know about things like composition or light’s many colors. Sam was grounded and knew who he was. He wasn’t restless about where he belonged. It was innate. Meena was attracted to him because he was so different from her; he was a person who was strongly rooted, who didn’t question his identity. He was someone who claimed his space even at a great cost. Sam embraced what she feared.