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“This is such a beautiful house! Have you always lived here?” Shriya asked.
Siddharth turned to her, “Yeah, my father built it for my mother before I was born, after she passed away he wanted to keep it just as it was back then.”
“How did they meet?”
“Well, her flight got cancelled one night and she was stranded in the city and he swooped in, swept her off her feet and gave her the best night of her life!”
Shriya threw her head back and cackled. Siddharth was not pulling any punches, he was definitely flirting with her and she had to admit, she was into it. The way he had been looking at her all night made her feel warm and fuzzy, but also on fire. He clearly wasn’t hiding his interest, she wouldn’t either, to a point. She was done with men after all. But if she wasn’t, she couldn't deny that Siddharth seemed pretty great; he was handsome, funny, smart, charming and incredibly sweet. She had never felt so comfortable, so quickly with a man, it was equal parts thrilling and confusing.
This was not at all how she’d envisioned tonight would go when she set out looking for the elusive P. James, she was supposed to be making absolutely sure the father of her baby was of sound mind and of spotless criminal record. Instead, she was standing with Siddharth in the moonlight on this balcony in the cool night air in a house that was essentially a love letter to his mother. This moment, this setting couldn't be more romantic if it tried!
“Okay okay, that’s not exactly how it happened,” Sidd laughed, “they were arranged, they met a month before their wedding but they’d already fallen in love by then.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she ventured.
“Yes! I’m single!” Siddharth beamed at her.
Shriya laughed, “Shut up!”
“Do you miss her?” she asked.
“Honestly? No. Appa worked really hard to be both my mum and my dad, he never let me feel like I was missing anything. So it was just… normal for me you know, her not being here anymore. I have fond memories and I’m sad she’s gone but I never really felt her absence, not in the way he has.”
He looked at Shriya and smiled, she smiled back and he cleared his throat, “Now I’d like to ask you a personal question.” Shriya nodded her assent.
“Are you single?”
“Yes,” she answered, “how come you are?”
“Well, I was about to get engaged,” he sighed deeply, “then she broke it off… on the day of the engagement, literally at the engagement, me in my suit, guests waiting, fairy lights everywhere, the whole thing!”
“Ouch! Sorry. I thought my story was bad,” she cringed.
He raised a brow at her. She let out a big sigh of her own, “My fiancé cheated on me with my best friend.”
“Wow! That’s just— wow!" He gestured between them, "Is this what they call ‘trauma bonding’?”
She laughed again, “Not quite, but I like that you’re familiar with the term.”
They stood in silence for a while, her looking out into the night and him looking at her.
“Shriya,” she hummed in response and turned to him, “can I ask you another personal question?”
“Sure, which of my other traumas do you want to know about?” her eyes shining with amusement.
“Can I kiss you?”
Shriya’s eyes widened and the breath she was taking caught in her throat. She hadn't expected that, she wasn't quite sure what she'd expected. She knew what she wanted to happen, she was a modern woman after all, but she wasn't reckless, she was level-headed and responsible and she really should be at home gestating and reading pregnancy books. But she was here, with him, and she was painfully aware that her life was going to change completely in a few short months.
“Shriya?” he snapped her out of her thoughts, he was closer now looking at her concerned, one hand resting gingerly on her shoulder, “Are you alright? We don’t have to—”
“Uh, sorry you just took me by surprise… but yes, yes we can kiss,” she said decisively.
Siddharth noted her phrasing and smirked, he’d need to remember that for the next time he asked. He stepped even closer to her, noticing how much smaller than him she really was. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, something he’d wanted to do since she’d first sat down at their table earlier tonight and her curls were dancing in the breeze. He couldn’t remember if he’d always had a thing for curly hair, or if he just liked it on her. He leaned in, stopping partway to give her an out if she wanted it but she tiptoed to meet him.