Page 27 of The Divine Lies We Weave

Leela snapped her eyes to his.

His familiar charm and sparkle flickered, the curl of his lip returning. Except it didn’t flutter her stomach as it used to when she was the lovesick fool who wanted to marry him. Instead, hot anger nestled in her gut, threatening to flicker and burn if he pushed her.

“I’d rather stand, thank you. And not in here,” Leela said, glancing at the strip of light stretching over the table.

“Do you prefer the shadows?”

Leela stepped back, inching away from the moonslight. “Yes.”

“I remember you being scared of heights. I don’t remember you being scared of your own shadow, Leela.”

Leela’s chest tightened. The way he said her name was like time had never passed between them. As if she were still the girl lying in his arms.

“I guess thinking someone was dead does things to people. Heights don’t bother me anymore because they were the only place to see you. Yet here you stand.”

Rajesh looked at her, a flicker of pain and what she supposed was anger. He sucked in his breath and opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” she snapped.

He arched his brow. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t act like there’s nothing wrong with this situation. Like time wasn’t our enemy.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his curls, but they bounced back into position. “Tell me, Leela. What’s wrong with this situation?”

She bit her lip, wanting to unleash the wrath inside. But she needed to calm down. She should be happy, not contemplating why he was here. Why couldn’t she just be happy he was here? Alive? Well?

Because he had everything she’d ever wanted and possibly hadn’t thought of finding her. Because rejection fucking hurt, no matter what it looked like. It didn’t matter if it was the same old Rajesh who used to make sugary baked goods with her or work the fields in the morning.

“Say what’s on your mind.” Rajesh leaned against the bedframe, crossing his ankles and arms as he settled his gaze on hers. “I know what you want to say. So say it.”

“What?” she poked.

“You want to yell at me,” he said. “And, garnered, you have the right.”

There was no point lying. The man knew her better than she knew herself. Still, Leela knew time had aged her in more ways than just physically. Time had caused her softer side to wither, hardening her.

“Why,” she said, frustrated as the syllable wavered on her tongue. “Why didn’t you come and find me?”

“I tried,” he said simply. “But I thought you were dead, Leela. Same with you, I assume? You didn’t come to find me either.”

It was so simple it hurt. She knew he was right. She hadn’t, because she had watched him die at the base of a dune. “You died. I watched you.”

“Just like I thought you were,” he said, tone low.

Leela didn’t know what else to say. She could scream. She could hit something. But he was right. He hadn’t come to find her for the simple reason that he thought she was dead. How could she argue with that? But that wasn’t what she was really mad about. She was hurt by what he said the night of the attack. She was deflecting, trying to find other things to be mad at him about. Even if they were small things.

Anything to stop the heartache boiling inside. He had been very forward with his words.

He didn’t love her.

“I did try to find you,” Rajesh whispered. “But the world is in chaos, and traveling over the dunes is hard, especially when I was told you were dead and there was no point looking for you.”

Leela’s chest tightened. The clenching of his jaw told her it was true. They had both believed the other was dead. It almost hurt to admit then why she stopped looking. Still, that was also obvious. She had stopped looking because why would she look for someone—something—if it was dead?

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” Rajesh said.

Leela frowned. “Excuse me?”