“Meena,” Sam said, “let’s go for a walk. We can skip pub trivia and just walk.”
Meena shook her head. “I can’t.” She didn’t want to hurt him, but at this minute, if he stayed next to her, was kind to her, she would break. She didn’t want that. She needed to hold on to the rage for as long as possible because beyond it was a pain so big, Meena was convinced it would consume her. “You should go, though. Ava is expecting you.” It was all she could manage.
“She’ll be fine. I’m staying with you.”
That would destroy her. “I don’t know if I can handle you being so nice to me,” she said, her voice sharp so she could hide her weakness. “I’m so angry.”
“It’s OK.”
She stood and moved around the living room. “It’s not. None of this is OK.” She put her knuckles in her mouth, bit down to stop the flood.
He stood and took her in his arms. Meena didn’t curl into him, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s better to be on my own. Rely only on myself.”
“Not better,” Sam said. “It’s safer. But if you don’t take risks . . .”
She cut him off. Pulled away. “Every day is a risk, Sam. Every day for the last eighteen years. I was left in a group home with others like me, and no, it wasn’t the television or movie kind where we bonded and became our own family, nor were we abused or neglected. It was shelter. We left for school, came back, did homework, ate, and repeated it over again the next day, every day. Alone. Always alone. I had to figure out how to stop drowning in my tears. How to find a way to live without the only people who loved me, live without pictures or favorite clothes. Do you know what’s left after an explosion? Debris and ashes. Not exactly something you can clutch at night to help you fall asleep. I had to figure it all out, from college applications and scholarships to how to freaking pay taxes once I got a job.” Meena picked up the note. “Neha knew that. She knew and she left me there. Couldn’t even figure out how to be human enough to come see me, talk to me, let me know that I had a connection to someone that was still alive.” She wiped her face, the tears she’d held back running down her cheeks.
“I love your independence, but that’s not all it is.” His words were soft and gentle. “It’s your shield, armor you’ve built over time because you had to navigate how to live by yourself. You don’t need it anymore. You’re not alone. You have someone.”
Meena looked at him. “A woman who never wanted me and doesn’t want to acknowledge me.”
“I was talking about me.” He stepped closer to her.
She closed her eyes. She was too raw and too fragile. If he wrapped her up in his arms, she would never want to let go, and that wasn’t something she could risk. Eventually it would end because things always ended, and she needed to stay strong enough to be able to leave before he left her. “I can’t do this, Sam.”
“You don’t have to.” Sam took her in his arms. “Let me be here for you.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Then we’ll stand here,” Sam said. “Like the last shot of a movie. A clutching couple, backlit by the setting sun. We can stand here for hours.”
She laughed into his soft sweater. “I don’t know any movie that ends like this.”
“We’ll find one to watch together.”
She said nothing. The rage swirled even as she let Sam comfort her. At some point he moved them to her bed and held her with his front snug against her back. She’d run out of tears. She fell asleep in a state of numbness.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
As night faded, the sun rose and Meena woke. She was alone. She stretched the stiffness out of her body. She padded to the kitchen as Sam came through the front door.