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Yeah…that still stung.

But Imani was a forensic pathologist for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and Malaya was an urban planner for the City of Langley. Both important jobs that required serious amounts of education.

Which I’d been happy to pay for. They’d graduated debt-free and were able to start their new lives, far away from East Van.

Imani lived in a condo in the west end of Vancouver, while Malaya, her engineering husband, and their two sons, lived on a farm near Langley. My sister was not a farmer. At all. Instead, they leased their blueberry fields to a local grower. Along with the extra income, they got free berries for about a month a year.

“We’ve been in the house about six months.” Foster put the tray on the counter.

I pulled my thoughts back to the present.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret—Arnav and I haven’t been together that long. We met and…” He interlaced his fingers.

“Ah.”

“I’d given up looking. I considered myself washed up—”

“Hey.” I frowned.

He wagged his finger at me. “Iconsideredmyself. I’d been out of an abusive relationship for almost five years, but I still hadn’t come out. I rented a nice place in Mission City, but I didn’t have deep roots here. Hell, I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere—except the construction sites. The company I work for focuses on low-income housing. I got a sense of satisfaction from that, at least.” He opened the fridge. “Cola, diet cola, ginger ale, fizzy orange, root beer, or an actual beer?”

“Not a drinker.” I put the fruit tray on the kitchen island.

“Neither are we.”

“But you have a sweet tooth.” I had to tease.

“We have so many nieces and nephews I can’t keep track—all Arnav’s. He loves to send them home high on sugar. Somehow thinking his sisters will never send their children back.”

“And they continue to?”

He offered me a wide grin. “Funny that—free babysitting.”

“Orange fizzy sounds great—I haven’t had one of those in ages.”

“They’re nice. One of Beena’s girls likes them. And…” He squinted. “One of Minal’s boys.”

“Howdoyou keep them straight?”

He gestured to a drawer. “I have a notebook. A very full notebook.” He offered a hint of a smile. “I want to be the best uncle ever.”

I cocked my head. “I’m sure you are.”

“How do you know?” He didn’t appear offended…just truly curious.

“Instinct. I mean, anyone who keeps a book with notes about someone else’s kids is prettydamn special.”

“That’s what I keep telling him.” Arnav opened the screen door and stepped inside. He removed his sunglasses. “Glad you’re here.”

I pointed to the fruit tray. “No cantaloupe.”

His face fell.

Foster laughed his ass off.

I sipped my fizzy orange drink, hiding a smile.

“Just see if I give you the prime cut of beef.” Arnav jutted his chin.