Page 130 of Reasons We Break

He twists his head away from her touch. “It’s from when I hurt my shoulder, that’s all. Just...tell me where the ledger is. Please, Simran.”

She clutches onto his hoodie, feeling lightheaded. She doesn’t want to give it to him. If she does, he leaves. That’s the last thing she wants. She half thinks if he tries, she’ll drag him back, make him press her into the wall exactly like this again.

Rajan’s expression changes, like he’s following the direction of her thoughts. He bends down to her. His hands settle on her hips, nose grazing her necklace. He inhales, then quite suddenly presses his face fully against the side of her neck, lips on her pulse. She squeaks, unable to think, to do anything. She doesn’t remember what he was asking her, not when he’s found the shape of her leg under the layers of fabric, running one hand down the back of her thigh.

“You,” he breathes, lips brushing against her earring, “dressed like this,” he draws a fistful of her anarkali into his hand, pulling it up, “is driving me up thewall, let me tell you.”

She loves his hands on her. Reverent. Yet deliciously disrespectful. “Dressed like what?”

He looks at her straight on, the blacks of his eyes swallowing her up. “Like a bride.”

Her lungs cease to work. But just then, a stifled gasp has her pushing away instinctively.

It’s TJ.

TJ, staring wide-eyed from the end of the hallway. Simran smooths down her anarkali. “TJ—”

TJ marches toward them. “Get away from her!”

Her glare is fixed on Rajan, who has already stepped back, hands now in jacket pockets. “TJ,” he says with a lazy grin. “I see you haven’t learned how to relax.”

“I cannot believe this.” TJ looks furious. “I’m going to—”

“TJ,”Simran says, louder. TJ halts in her tracks, focusing on Simran for the first time. Uncertainty flits over her face.

Distantly, in the foyer, there’s a scuffle of shoes on tile, a commotion that seems to be brewing. It wouldn’t be the first time an altercation broke out at a wedding, but Rajan glances in that direction immediately, his smile fading. He backs away. “Don’t worry,” he says to Simran. “I’m gonna take care of everything.”

He disappears down the hall before she can ask what he means. TJ blocks her path before she can follow.

“Holy shit,” TJ is saying. “Holy shit.”

“TJ, I have to—”

“There are tons of people in the foyer now,” TJ says harshly. “You can’t go out a second after him looking like—the way you do right now.”

“What—”

TJ grabs her hand and drags her farther down the hall to a private washroom. Simran glances over her shoulder, but Rajan’s gone.

TJ tows her inside. “You need to take a minute.”

Simran glances into the mirror as TJ locks the door behind them. Her eyes are too bright, tendrils of hair falling over her cheeks, her cheeks burning—flushing all the way into her neckline.

Simran flushes even more. She can’t look her cousin in the eye.

“God,” TJ says. “So much is starting to make sense. So. Much.”

“Please don’t lecture me.”

TJ pauses.“Why?”

She sounds so baffled, so hurt, so frustrated.

Simran braces her hands against the sink. TJ’s question could mean so many things.Why him? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you see how badly this was going to end?

“Actually, you know what?” TJ says after several seconds of silence. “Let’s just drop that messed-up topic for now. Why don’t we talk about how your mom has cancer.”

Simran closes her eyes. The washroom is beginning to spin. “Who told you?”