A tear escaped and she didn’t wipe it off. Another joined. She swallowed to stop the flow, but her heart needed the release and wouldn’t let her brain stay in control. It wasn’t until she felt Sam’s arms around her that she steadied herself. Moved away from him. “Don’t.”
She went to the desk and stared out the windows that overlooked the back garden. The patch of dirt along the fence was covered with a layer of snow. She’d planted the wildflowers to annoy Sabina, but, in a way, Meena had been claiming her rightful space. “Did she say anything about the pregnant girl? Did Neha know her? Was she a relative?”
“She didn’t say much more than that,” Sam said. “I didn’t think to ask questions. She was like that, told stories when she was in the mood. Mostly about herself, her family. Things like how she’d stopped learning to cook at fifteen because she’d decided she didn’t want to become like her mother, working during the day, cooking and cleaning after her family on nights and weekends. Most of them were complaints disguised as stories. She was angry at her circumstances, yet she still reveled in what she’d made of her life.”
“I guess I’m not as good at putting a story together as I thought,” Meena said.
“I’m sorry.” He came over to her and put his hands on her arms.
She turned around to face him, shifted out of his grasp. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Meena.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
I believed I had found somewhere to belong.
“I know you’re hurting,” Sam said. “You don’t have a good poker face. I’m a friend.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
She looked around the living room, surrounded by the things that belonged to the woman she thought she’d come from. Meena couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Do you believe her? Could she have been lying to you?”
He gave her a sad smile. “The timeline. She was of an age where she could have taken care of you.”
Meena nodded and rubbed her hands over her arms. “Do the aunties know too?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t think so. She barely told me. And even then in pieces.”
Meena nodded. “You must think I’m such a fool.”
“No.” Sam took her hand in his. “You just didn’t know the whole of it. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
He leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. The faint contact made her yearn for more. That was the problem. Wanting. Needing. Yearning. Those words had seeped into her vocabulary these last few months. Her life didn’t revolve around people or a place. She’d been free. She knew what she had to do. Leaning on Sam wasn’t it.
When Sam left, Meena rushed into action. What she’d thought she’d found here wasn’t real. She couldn’t stay. Once Sabina learned of the loose link between Neha and Meena, she’d find a way to take the apartment. Meena couldn’t stick around and watch Sabina win. Plane tickets, assignments, discovery—those were her life. Living everywhere was what suited her.
She reached for her backpack, which she’d left on a side chair by the fireplace. As she dug out her laptop, Meena noticed the small round table next to it. It was gray, made of iron, suited for the outdoors. A lot of knickknacks sat on top. An old-school wooden alphabet block caught her eye, the kind she’d played with in kindergarten. There was only one. The letter M in bright yellow.
She picked it up. Felt the weight of it in her hand. She clasped it tight until the edges left dents in her palm. She ignored the burn and ache of the wood against her skin. Then she turned and flung it into the fireplace. It didn’t even nick a brick, which meant the throw wasn’t as satisfying as she’d needed it to be. She picked the block up from the stone floor, where it had landed next to a fake giant decorative plant. Inside the plant’s vase, she noticed a silk ribbon in pale pink. She tugged at it, pulled it from the fake brown branches. She unknotted it where it had gotten tangled up in the white and pink silk flowers.