Author’s note: White supremacy is a plot driver in this story. If you’re not comfortable with frank discussions about race and societal expectations, the following isn’t for you.
I like to write characters who are flawed–they make stupid decisions because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time, or they’re conflicted and dealing with their own issues just like we all are. I sincerely thank those of you who understand that a big part of the human condition is how we’re capable of growth and change.
“The defense recognises that this is Mr. Bromley’s second offense before the court, but we are prepared to proceed with this bail hearing, Your Worship,” Nyssa Gallagher straightened her files at her counsel table, sure that based on her brief interview with the scruffy gentleman beside her, this would be pretty straightforward.
As she quickly tied up her crimped, blonde hair, she shot a little smile across the aisle at Ilan Shivanesan, who she was glad was the Crown Attorney in bail court today. He was charitable to duty counsel like her, understanding it was a huge load to be a public defender and fight for people you just met an hour ago.
Nyssa also took a moment to appreciate how Ilan’s slim-cut gray suit fit him like he was born in it, while she thought she looked like she’d taken a nap in her blouse and dress pants. His shoulders were broad despite his lean frame, and he stood at about 5’11” with inky black hair, saddle-brown skin, and deep-set dark eyes.
“Mr. Bromley, this hearing is just to determine whether you can be released into the community pending the resolution of this matter; not whether you committed the offense you’re accused of,” Nyssa explained to her client-of-the-day when he was on the stand and sworn in. He nodded, indicating he understood.
“I’ve been trying to change,” Mr. Bromley said once he sat down. “I know you told me you don’t usually put the defendant on the stand, but I wanted to tell the judge–”
“The justice of the peace,” Nyssa corrected him.
“Right. I wanted to tell him this was an honest mistake. I’m really trying to turn my life around. I’m getting my high school diploma and I just have a semester to go,” Mr. Bromley continued.
“I also have a wonderful girlfriend who’s here today, and she’s pregnant with my child.” Before Nyssa could stop him, he called out into the gallery. “Honey, could you come up to the front, please?”
Mr. Bromley was searching the left side of the body of the courtroom, where a woman who seemed to be about eight months pregnant stood up with great strain. As Nyssa looked on in horror, however, a second figure also stood up from her seat in the back–with much less strain, as she appeared to be only five months pregnant.
Nyssa and Ilan both had their backs toward the JP, which was fortunate because the stance hid her expression of pure mortification and his attempt to bite his lip to avoid exploding in laughter.
“Ella?” the eight-months pregnant woman said to her counterpart at the back.
“Sophie?” Ella replied. “I thought you two broke up.”
“If it makes any difference, Your Worship,” Ilan spoke up, unable to resist, “the Crown would accept either girlfriend as the defendant’s surety.”
“Mr. Shivanesan, that’s unnecessary, and this is your only warning,” the JP said. “Ms. Gallagher, do you need to stand this matter down?”
“The only one who needs to stand down is that bitch!” Sophie shouted. “I can’t even put my shoes on from the front I’m so big right now, and you’ve been fucking my man all this time?”
“That’s enough!” the JP ordered. “Will the court officer–”
“I swear, I had no idea they’d both show up,” Mr. Bromley stammered, seeming grateful to be 15 meters away from both women he’d impregnated.
“You can’t hold on to a man after you break up, Sophie!” Ella shouted back. “It’s a man, not a stock option!”
Ilan pursed his lips and put his hand to the side of his face so the JP wouldn’t see him stifling his chortles. Nyssa felt her face heating up and all she wanted to do was have the ground swallow her whole.
But luckily, no one was looking at her, especially not when Sophie stalked the length of the courtroom to the back and Ella went to meet her halfway. Two officers from Halton Regional Police bolted from their seats to apprehend each woman before they made contact, just as Sophie clumsily lunged at Ella.
“Oh, shit,” Nyssa heard Ilan mutter between laughs, careful to stand away from the ambient mics in the room to avoid being caught on the official court recording. But as she was looking over at her fellow attorney on her left, Nyssa felt a hand on right shoulder.
“How could you let this happen?” Mr. Bromley had stepped down from the stand and was looking at her accusingly.
“Me??” This dumpster fire is not going to blame me for him not covering it up, Nyssa thought. “Sir, I called the number you gave me and spoke to Sophie myself. If you don’t know how Ella learned about your bail hearing, how could I possibly have predicted this when I didn’t even know she existed until now?”
“Nevermind,” Mr. Bromley evaded the question as everyone in the gallery watched both his girlfriends be apprehended by Halton Police and removed from the courtroom. “Your Honour–”
“Your Worship, asshole,” Ilan mumbled from across the aisle, brushing his mouth against his suit jacket as he spoke. Nyssa glanced at the court reporter, who grinned, indicating it came through clear enough on her mics.
“–I’d like to represent myself.”
Ilan was now practically salivating, while Nyssa quickly packed up her files before Mr. Bromley had a chance to reconsider. She looked over at Ilan, humbled and embarrassed, but he just gave her a quick wink and nod.
“The Crown is agreeable, Your Worship,” he announced, turning back around and straightening out his suit jacket. Nyssa was just thankful to get out of there and back to the bail desk to pick up more work. There were a lot of other things she needed to do instead of humiliating herself in front of Ilan.
***********
“The math checks out,” Ron said, munching on his sandwich as he leaned back in his chair behind the bail desk. “He’s getting desperate just when girlfriend number one’s morning sickness is ramping up. So he goes after girlfriend number two as the newest member of the league of extra-horny gentlemen.”
Nyssa clamped a hand over her mouth to keep the mouthful of coffee she’d just gulped from dribbling out.
“And it looks like I’m going to be joining the league, myself,” Ron added, looking down the hallway behind Nyssa. She swiveled around, briefly spotted Ilan, then turned back. He was probably on his way to another courtroom. But then she felt him behind her and saw his shadow fall across the bail desk.
“I know you’re going to be telling this story at parties for years to come,” she said, dropping her head and not turning around to face him, “but can you please leave my name out of it?” She heard him lightly snickering.
“Hey, Ron, how’s it going?” he asked instead of responding to Nyssa, who had now sidestepped him and was about to peruse her next file.
“Going much better now, dreamboat,” Ron casually smiled.
“The absolute gall, Ron,” Ilan grinned. “We’re only in the perfect place to file sexual harassment charges. You’re lucky I’m flattered.”
“Not so lucky you’re engaged,” Ron shot back. Ilan then noticed Nyssa’s expression of abject shock.
“I was just about to tell you, Nyss,” he said apologetically. “Only Ron and a couple of other people at work know so far.”
No, she denied. Nooooooooo, Ron had to have said ‘you’re gay’ or something. She knew for a fact Ilan definitely wasn’t gay but she didn’t want to believe she had lost him forever. She had to have misheard.
“When’s that big, fat, Sri Lankan wedding going to happen anyway?” Ron asked as Nyssa half-turned toward the elevator and tried to inconspicuously lean on the desk for support.
When she recovered, she took the opportunity to scoot around the desk and grab the next hearing she was slated to conduct after lunch, burying her face in it as she held back tears. She flipped through the folder, pretending to be deeply interested in the simple assault charge before her.
“Oh, wow, in about six months,” Ilan replied, as though he just remembered. “My mom and Priya are planning everything, though. I wanted to be involved but got shoved out of the room.”
“Are you serious, man?” Ron asked. Then he lowered his voice. “Can I ask you why straight people do this?” A slow grin spread across Ilan’s face. “When Tim and I were planning our wedding, we were both working on it.
“Meanwhile with the straights, it’s either the guy gets shoved out of the room, or he expects to be handed his suit when he just shows up the morning of the wedding. I mean, it’s definitely not all straight couples, but it’s too many for it to not be a pattern.”
“Well,” Ilan looked thoughtful, “you’re fortunate I was recently elected president of the straights.” Nyssa was suspended in a surreal moment of wanting to laugh, wanting to cry, and wanting to throw up.
It’s really over, she realised. That window is going to close on me forever.
“But I’m going to have to take this question back to the straight wedding committee and get a consensus on that answer,” Ilan continued, both he and Ron still oblivious to Nyssa reeling from her gut punch. “If I had to venture a guess, though, I’d say gender roles,” he said seriously.
“Exactly what I thought,” Ron agreed. “But if you maliciously complied with those same gender roles and refused to change your future babies’ diapers, you can bet your bride would suddenly be all for equality.”
“Ilan wouldn’t do that,” Nyssa suddenly said, recognising she had to participate in this conversation to keep a façade of normalcy. “Not with a dad like his.” She smiled as Ilan scrunched his forehead, trying to decipher what she meant. “Don’t you remember that one time a bunch of us were at your place when your parents dropped in to visit? It was during second year?”
“Ohhh, right,” Ilan recalled when his parents were visiting friends and swung by his student housing unit.
“His dad told me that when Ilan and his sister were babies, he was talking to some guy at work about being a new father,” Nyssa explained to Ron. “That guy said in all the time his own kids were babies, he never did a feeding or changed a diaper. Then Ilan’s dad supposedly stared at him and said, ‘Wow, how can you just admit you were a useless husband and father like that?'”
“What?” Ron said, his eyes wide. “Ilan, how big are your dad’s balls?”
“I can’t believe you remember that story from six years ago,” Ilan said flatly, grinning at Ron but ignoring his rhetorical question. “You only met my parents once, Nyss.”
“It didn’t affect his job or anything,” Nyssa continued as though Ilan hadn’t interjected. “But there’s no way he’d let his son get away with being a sub-par dad.”
“You guys went to law school together, huh?” Ron asked when Ilan was called away for a minute to discuss a case with another defense lawyer. Nyssa threw a sidelong glance at her friend behind the desk.
“Yup,” she simply answered, continuing to swallow her anguish.
“Did you ever date?”
“Nope.”
***Six years earlier***
“Nyssa!” her roommate, Josephine, shouted on the other side of the bathroom door as she banged on it with a heavy fist. “We’ve got the one toilet in this apartment, and you better let me use it unless you want me to pee in the kitchen sink!”
“I’m sorry! I’m almost done!” Nyssa shouted back, gathering her razor and blasting it under running water.
“Hopefully,” Josephine said flatly. “I know you want to clear Ilan for landing, but you picked a bad time to shave your chaach.” Nyssa gasped as she laughed.
“I am not shaving my–myself down there!” she lied. “I’m shaving my legs.” She quickly pulled her underwear back up amid tidying the sink area. Josephine rushed in the second the door opened.
“Isn’t that lying by omission, Miss Law?” she replied once she came back out.
“You don’t know I’m lying,” Nyssa grinned, knowing she was a terrible liar.
“Stevie Wonder could see you’re lying,” Josephine deadpanned. “Anyway, I’m going to say what I always say before I leave you two to smash. Both of you can do better than this.” Nyssa sighed and rolled her eyes as she flopped onto the living room couch.
“I’m serious, girl,” Josephine said solemnly. “I don’t understand why you two can’t just date like normal people instead of… whatever this is.”
“And I’m going to say what I always do when you needlessly bring this up,” Nyssa responded. “Neither of us want to be distracted from school, and neither of us are ready for a relationship.”
“Bullshit.”
“And neither of us would fit in with the other’s family.”
“Bingo. The same way I wouldn’t fit in with your family,” Josephine said point blank, patting her natural afro hairstyle and pointing to her mahogany skin.
“I told you, I’m really, really sorry about that, Josie,” Nyssa said softly, inwardly cringing at the memory of when she brought her best friend home for Thanksgiving.
“Which part?” her friend asked. “When your uncle asked how enrolment quotas were working for me in my MBA programme, or when your mom apologised for not having collard greens and fried chicken on hand? What about when your dad told me he was surprised at how articulate I was?” Nyssa now covered her face in embarrassment.
“Look, I’m not mad at you,” Josephine clarified. “You were angry on my behalf and you left with me. What I’m mad about is that you’re limited to falling in love with, and one day marrying, a white guy you haven’t even met yet because of your racist-ass family.
“Tell me again why you can’t just tell them to go fuck themselves and date the hot, smart guy who’s coming over right now? Nyssa, it is a crime you’re just fuckbuddies with Ilan when you both click so well.”
“You know why,” Nyssa replied. As long as her parents were footing the bill for law school, she was under their thumb. They never outright told her who they wanted her to socialise with, but she could take a hint. And if she couldn’t bring her Black best friend home for dinner, she sure as hell didn’t want to imagine what her family would say to a Sri Lankan boyfriend.
“Yeah, I know,” Josephine nodded, slipping on her leather jacket and grabbing her purse. “I also know you’re not going to have the option of Ilan forever. A guy like him will not stay single for long.” She pulled on her boots by the door, and Nyssa stood to lock up behind her.
“Honestly, I think he’s making an effort to stay single because he stupidly thinks he’ll one day have a relationship with you. If you change your mind, I’ve got a list of links for student grants and aid.”
With that, Nyssa found herself alone in the apartment, except for Josie’s cat Patches, who crawled onto her lap amid licking his paws. She petted the fat, white and brown cat while thinking about how struck she’d been with Ilan the first time he’d sat down at her table in a campus pub with some mutual friends.
She had suddenly been hit with a bout of shyness, but couldn’t ignore how they would both glance at the other and smile every time someone in their group said something funny. Finally, Ilan broke the impasse and followed her to get another drink, introducing himself. The two of them sat at the bar for the rest of the night and ended up closing it down.
It had been late October, and Nyssa would not soon forget the disastrous Thanksgiving earlier that month at her parents’ home with Josephine. Despite seeing Ilan seven times over the next two weeks, Nyssa knew she couldn’t keep leading him on. They’d been heavily making out on her couch when she stopped him and proposed they only have a physical relationship.
“You know, to stay focused on school and maybe blow off some steam with each other,” she’d offered, trying to sound confident. She kicked herself at the look of confusion and mild hurt on his face.
“For what it’s worth,” he told her, “I’m pretty sure I can do two things at the same time.” They both cracked a smile and Nyssa was grateful to him for breaking the tension. “Look, I like you, Nyssa,” he went on. “But I understand if you don’t feel the same.” Nyssa kicked herself harder.
“I respect how driven you are,” he added. “And if this is how we stay friends, I guess… this is how we stay friends. I, uh, I promise I’ll do my best to not blur any boundaries.”
Now it was early January, and they’d been sleeping together for about two months, minus the Christmas break. A knock at the door snapped Nyssa out of reliving the one decision in her life she knew was a mistake at the very moment she’d made it. She also knew she was being selfish and unfair to Ilan–he was so decent he wouldn’t even look at another girl as long as he was seeing her in any capacity.
“Hey,” Ilan greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Hey,” she kissed him back and then fully intended to self-medicate in the comfort of his arms, if not for the prickly scratching they both felt at their ankles.
“Hey to you too, buddy,” Ilan grinned as he picked Patches up and rubbed his fingertips against the feline’s face. He shifted the cat between his arms while shrugging off his jacket and kicking away his shoes. “Not many mice up here on the ninth floor, huh?”
Geez, I’m melting, Nyssa thought in agony, unsure of why the sight of the man she had feelings for making small talk and cuddling with a cat was affecting her like this. Patches, however, was loving it. As she stood at the window, contemplating whether she could pay for law school herself and cut off her family altogether, she felt Ilan standing behind her.
His arms slipped around Nyssa’s waist while his mouth landed on the side of her neck. She spun around, eager to forget how terribly she’d messed up this situation and instead decided to take her frustrations out on him.
She kissed him hard and yanked his shirt out of his khakis, expertly loosening his belt in seconds.
“Are you angry with me?” he questioned after breaking away.
“No,” she breathed, confusedly trying to get back to his mouth.
“Oh, so it’s school or something else?” he made sure, holding her off.
“Something else,” she murmured, unbuttoning his shirt with fire in her eyes. “Why?”
“I just want to make sure I won’t get injured,” he joked, his voice catching when he felt Nyssa’s teeth on his chest.
In response, Nyssa dragged him to her bedroom and took off the rest of his clothes, then pushed him back onto her bed. Before he could respond, her lips were around his erection. Ilan gasped in shock, then groaned as Nyssa hungrily squeezed him in her mouth, her tongue frantic.
When she took a break to strip off her own clothes, it seemed to dawn on Ilan that she wanted it fast and rough today although he had no idea why. Over the next half-hour and until Nyssa screamed in release, he unquestioningly followed her lead.
God, I could look into those forever, he thought wistfully, gazing into her icy blue eyes while balanced over her as they gunned toward the end. While Nyssa’s eyes were still glazed and they both attempted to catch their breath, he regretted giving in to her once again.
This is the last time, he promised himself as his forehead pressed against the bed and his nose took in the strawberry scent of her hair.
Although it had seemed like an advantageous compromise to regularly sleep with a beautiful blonde when he couldn’t date her, Ilan learned early that it was a low-level form of torture. What don’t I have? he wondered as he followed Nyssa’s bare legs sliding off the bed and taking her to the bathroom.
Why is this all she wants to do with me when we talked for three hours the night we first met? Ilan had wracked his brain for weeks as to whether he’d done something wrong enough to render himself undateable, but he couldn’t help but circle back to the same conclusions.
“Break it down logically,” his sister, Anandi, had advised him over the Christmas break while they were eating candy in her childhood bedroom like they’d done growing up. “It could be she really doesn’t want a relationship–in which case she’s not going to date you. It could be that she doesn’t want a relationship with you–in which case sleeping with her is not going to change her mind.”
“But we’re on the same wavelength,” he rationalised to his sister shaking her head as she ripped open another fun-size Smarties pack.
“According to you,” Anandi countered. “Whatever wavelength you think you’re on, it’s not enough for her.” She gave him all the blue Smarties, like she’d always done. “And quite honestly, I’m pissed at this girl.
“She’s stringing you along and wasting time that you could be spending with an actual girlfriend. Ilan, have some respect for yourself and recognise that you’re not the kind of person who can have casual sex without regretting it.”
His sister’s words echoed in his head as he stared at Nyssa’s ceiling until she came out of the bathroom and lay back on her bedspread. After he cleaned up and emerged, he simply spit out the words without trying to fashion a tactful sentence.
“This is my last time here,” he stated. Nyssa sat up in surprise, an eyebrow arched, as Ilan barreled on. “I can’t stay friends with you if this is all you want from me. And it was a mistake to think I could.”
“Can we… can we still hang out together at the pub? Or study together?” she tried, knowing her ‘solution’ to not dating Ilan had monumentally messed up any semblance of the friendly relationship they’d had.
“Um, no,” he replied. “Not for a while. I just… I just need some space, Nyssa.”
He was moody for the next two weeks, she noticed, and went out of his way to avoid her at their usual haunts. Nyssa was dumbfounded at how she’d managed to go through a break-up with him despite never having dated him in the first place.
But after one mid-January weekend, Nyssa wondered if it was just her imagination that he came back from his parents’ house with a spring in his step. After talking to a mutual friend, she learned he’d met Priya that weekend during the Tamil harvest festival of Pongal at their temple.
Nyssa wanted to drink her feelings but instead she went back home to Oakville like she’d originally planned that Friday afternoon.
“Look, I know they try to make themselves look progressive, but those Muslims are the most backward people in this country,” her dad argued at dinner that night. “They’re all against abortion and gay marriage.”
“Dad, you’re against abortion and gay marriage,” Nyssa said, her patience for her father’s bigotry hanging by a single thread.
“There’s a difference,” he defended himself. “That’s my own independent thinking; it’s not because I’m a Christian.”
“Could it be because you’re a misogynistic homophobe?” Nyssa coolly questioned. She looked around the table at the pairs of eyes that stared back at her during the pin-drop silence that ensued–her parents, her two younger brothers, and her uncle. But now she was going for broke.
“Or could it be that you’re a racist, misogynist homophobe, not to mention a run-of-the-mill asshole?”
“Nyssa Elizabeth Gallagher!” her mother chastised her.
“Which one is it, dad?” Nyssa demanded. She was still raw from ruining everything with Ilan, despite knowing she never had a chance at a long-term relationship with him. And the people she was defiantly staring down at that kitchen table were the reason.
“It’s whichever one is paying for you to go to that fancy law school of yours,” her father said quietly.
“Just what I thought,” she scoffed. “But guess what? The math has changed since the last time we had this conversation. I checked again, and it looks like I’m eligible for student loans now.”
“The interest on those is ludicrous,” her mother interjected.
“As a criminal defense lawyer, I’ll be able to pay down the principal faster than most people,” Nyssa explained. “And really, the interest is nothing compared to the freedom of no longer being beholden to you racists.”
“You Marxists throw that word around like confetti!” her uncle boomed.
“Haven’t you found a job yet, you freeloader?” Nyssa crisply bit off. “Or are you just going to live in your brother’s house forever?” she gestured around the room. Nyssa’s brothers held their forks frozen in mid-air, dumbfounded that their typically calm and controlled elder sister was going off the rails.
“What’s gotten into you, Nyssa?” her mother asked.
“What should have gotten into me years ago,” Nyssa answered. “I couldn’t introduce you to my Asian friends in high school because I knew your dumbass husband would make some crack about how they’re bad drivers. You humiliated me in front of Josephine a few months ago and jeopardized our friendship.” She stood up and threw her napkin on the table.
“I wanted to come out of school debt-free but I’m ashamed of how I whored myself out to your sick principles. I should have said something a long time ago but I didn’t because I believed your shit about family sticking together. I lost so much because I caved to you.” She briefly thought about Ilan and willed her voice not to shake.
“Stephen, Noah, as long as you never turn into these bigots, I will always be there for you,” she said to her teenage brothers. “The rest of you fuckers are out of my life.”
***Present day***
It was ironic that Josephine had predicted all those years ago that Ilan was trying to stay single, considering Nyssa was the one who’d remained unattached since they finished their education and went their separate ways.
Although they both hailed from the Greater Toronto Area, Nyssa thought the odds of her and Ilan working together in the same little Oakville courthouse were astronomical–especially when Ilan was from Scarborough and his family lived closer to the massive Toronto courthouses looming virtually next door.
Nyssa had articled for a major firm downtown where she was run ragged and told it would only be for a few more years. Once she’d had a few trial wins under her belt, she could raise her hourly rates and send paralegals into court for piddly matters.
It took a year of following her firm’s lawyers from courthouse to courthouse before Nyssa understood quite staunchly she didn’t want that hectic life regardless of what it paid. She finished her time at the firm, respectfully turned down the junior position they offered her, and applied for a job at Legal Aid Ontario.
It was strange living in the same town as her entire family, yet not seeing most of them in six years, she thought while sitting alone at the Pita Pit during lunch. Stephen and Noah had texted her after that last supper to tell her they were proud of her and couldn’t wait to leave that house.
As she unwrapped her lunch, she thought about how happy she was to have been able to put each of them through school with her savings. Pondering the next time she was due to meet her brothers for dinner, she was about to sink her teeth into her falafel when she heard her fellow duty counsel’s voice.
“You’re hogging a table all to yourself in this crowd?” Kai Te’kao chided her in his strong New Zealand drawl. Nyssa held back on her bite and put her falafel down.
“You’re getting here a whole 15 minutes into the lunch hour?” she asked him back. “You know it’s standing room only at this point.”
“Well, thanks for inviting us, of course we’ll sit with you,” Kai grinned before motioning someone else over. It just happened to be the last person Nyssa wanted to see.
“I’m usually the first guy gone for lunch, but it was matter of pleading down a case or running a godforsaken trial on it,” Ilan said, slipping into the seat beside her. “But I’m glad we ran into you so I can tell you both at the same time how the double baby mama case went.”
“What.” Kai let the word hang in the air like its own sentence before Ilan filled him in on the bail hearing Nyssa had left earlier.
“So then it was like shooting fish in a barrel,” he concluded while Kai was still in stitches. “Both his potential sureties were clawing each other’s eyes out and were taken into custody so he had no one to post bond for him. Dude’s back in the cells until his mom can come get him tomorrow.”
“This right here is why it makes no sense to regulate women’s bodies,” Kai said. “They can only have one pregnancy a year, at most. This guy could go out and get several women pregnant every day until we finally reach a plea deal or a trial date.”
“The way he’s going, he probably will,” Ilan laughed. Then he finally noticed Nyssa hadn’t said a word.
“Look, don’t feel embarrassed for not knowing about baby mama number two,” he told her, clueless that she was actually rampant with jealousy and regret that the one who’d gotten away was now engaged to another woman. “He probably wasn’t even going to tell baby mama number one about her, let alone the court.”
“Ten bucks says his plan was to make both kids think they were cousins while never letting the women be in the same room together,” Kai offered. Ilan tried to quell his laughs since there was a chunk of falafel in his mouth.
“That sounds like something a six-year-old would come up with,” he replied after swallowing. “First, I’ll take the helicopter out of the box, then attach the blades, then it’ll fly me to Africa and back home again before dinner.” The two men guffawed until Ilan got up to wash his hands.
“I had a bit of an ulterior motive in sitting here,” Kai told Nyssa when they were alone. “Shinedown is doing a show in Hamilton next week and I’m looking for someone to go with me.”
“Maybe JP Wagner’s free,” Nyssa said, trying to make it come off as a joke but wishing this conversation was not happening. She hated that she had been all but obsessed with Ilan over the last several years, hoping against hope that he and Priya would break up so she could get a second chance.
Move on, her brain told her. It was never meant to happen with Ilan and you’re going to watch him marry another woman in a few months from now. Kai is smart and handsome and he obviously likes you. MOVE. ON.
“Seeing as how JP Wagner’s 71 years old, I kinda get the feeling Shinedown would scare him,” Kai smiled. “I was hoping you’d come with me?” Nyssa’s heart sank but she didn’t have the spoons to cobble together an eloquent excuse. And she sure as hell didn’t want Kai to ask her out again the next time he had a chance.
“Kai, you’re sweet and you deserve someone who’s emotionally available,” she said outright. “I’m not in the right headspace to date anyone. And that’s not a reflection on you; I actually haven’t dated anyone since law school.”
“Wow, who hurt you, Nyss?” he asked, visibly mystified. She shook her head with a rueful half-smile.
“I did. I mean, I hurt him and it was a mistake I don’t think I’ll ever get over although he certainly has.”
She thankfully got that last sentence out before Ilan joined them again, at which point Nyssa told them both she was going for a walk and would see them back at the courthouse later.
“Is she alright?” Ilan asked Kai after watching her walk away with her hands shoved in her pockets, apparently carrying the weight of the world on her back. Kai looked in her direction and shrugged, genuinely not knowing the answer.
“No clue, man,” he said. “I was hoping she’d buck the trend but the prettiest women seem to have the worst issues.” Then he turned the discussion toward the remaining cases on his list, telling Ilan he probably wasn’t going to run any more bail hearings that day.
Ilan nodded as his friend gave him the rundown of their pending work, not being able to bring himself to ask Kai what he’d meant by ‘the worst issues.’
***********
Turning the doorknob of his parents’ house in the Scarborough neighbourhood of Malvern, Ilan sensed he’d be walking into a tornado. All he wanted after the day he’d just had was to go back to his apartment in Oakville where he lived during the week instead of driving an hour east. His fiancée was one of few people for whom he’d endure two hours of rush-hour traffic.
He wasn’t wrong about the tornado, as Priya had samples of various items laid out all over the living room floor. As Ilan tried to quietly navigate his way into the kitchen, he noticed there were more people around that he didn’t know as opposed to those he did. Priya was somewhere in the mix but he didn’t attempt to look for her.
“Amma?” he called out to his mother as he tiptoed past the loud chatter in the dining room. Malathi Shivanesan poked her head out from behind the wall separating her from where her son stood, her face lighting up when she spotted him.
“Did you drive all this way from Oakville at this hour?” she asked him in Tamil.
“Priya called me,” he replied in English, as was his and Anandi’s habit since they were toddlers. He hated that they didn’t have active fluency in their mothertongue, but their preschool teachers had told their parents the kids would never learn proper English if they kept speaking ‘their’ language at home. He was grateful he could at least still understand Tamil.
“Why is all this happening here?” he asked his mother, glad to sneak in a few minutes unnoticed before his fiancée discovered he was home.
“I offered Priya the house,” Malathi replied, stirring the pot of sambar on the stove. The aroma of the heavy lentil stew reminded Ilan of cozy winter nights curling up with a book after dinner. “She said there wasn’t enough room at her apartment to spread out all the… things… for the wedding, and I said there’s plenty of room here.”
“So she just had a whole team descend on this place today?” Ilan frowned, wondering if his parents knew the extent to which they’d have their house occupied.
“No, no, it’s okay,” Malathi knew since Ilan was a baby that it was time to de-escalate when his eyebrows narrowed. “It’s just me and Appa here now, and sometimes Anandi when she comes over with the baby.”
“What if Appa trips over something?” Ilan remembered his dad’s bad knees. “And Divya is learning to crawl now. Is all of that stuff on the floor over there supposed to remain untouched?” Malathi gave him a sheepish look as she reached over to let the accumulating steam out of the rice cooker before it bubbled over and burned onto the stovetop.
“Hey, I thought I heard your voice!” Priya excitedly hugged Ilan upon walking into the dining room. “Now you know why I called you here instead of to my place.”
“You know, I think it should be your place,” he replied after a short hug back. “Unless you’re packing up all those flowers and vases and samples today.” Malathi disappeared back into the kitchen to avoid what she anticipated was coming.
“But your mom said–”
“Does she know any of these people?” Ilan interjected. Priya blinked at him. “If I asked her what their names were, could she tell me?” he specified.
“Well, I don’t know if your mom would remember, but I certainly introduced everyone to her,” Priya answered. “It’ll only be a few days until we decide, and then order the centerpieces and chair covers for the reception. And it’s okay if everything’s not perfectly in place all that time.”
“Anandi brings Divya over a couple of times a week,” Ilan posed, trying to control himself from turning this discussion into a cross-exam. “What you’re telling me is it’s fine if the baby crawls on things, puts them out of order, throws them around the room…?”
“What?” Priya looked aghast. “What would Anandi be doing all that time?” Ilan tried not to look aghast, himself.
“Okay, so we’ve established it wouldn’t be fine if everything’s not perfectly in place,” he stated. “Honey, I’m not saying this was a bad idea; I’m saying I don’t want this wedding to impose on anyone else’s life, least of all my elderly parents and my baby niece. Is there a way we can move all this wedding stuff? At least by tomorrow night?”
Priya looked thoughtful and then nodded. The wedding planners were only there for an hour afterward as they animatedly talked plans with Priya. Ilan parked himself in a corner recliner in case he was needed, but when he found he wasn’t, he went upstairs to look for his father.
“Finally, you have the good sense to escape that madness,” Jeganathan Shivanesan told him as he sat back against the headboard of his bed and paused the action movie he was watching. “Here, have a masala vadai,” he offered, holding out a plate of fried, doughy mini-donuts to his son. Ilan savoured the salt and crispness, finally feeling like he was home despite being at the house for an hour.
“Appa,” Ilan started. “How did you know Amma was the right one for you?” Jeganathan’s eyes all but bugged out.
“I’m an old man now, my heart can’t take this question,” he rattled off in Tamil. Ilan burst out laughing.
“No, no, I mean… nobody dated back then, right? I know you met in school and it was a love marriage, and your parents got mad because you refused to have an arranged marriage.”
“I don’t remember half of what happened last month and you’re asking me to go back 35 years?” Jeganathan now said in English.
“Appa, just listen and stop joking.” All Ilan really wanted to do with his father was shoot the breeze and hear about how every neighbour on the street was an idiot in one way or another. But he had to get this out of the way first. “There were other girls in your school,” he went on. “How did you know Amma was the right one?” Jeganathan sighed, as though he was trying to recall.
“She was my first friend,” he finally said, recalling his school days in Sri Lanka. “And although I made more friends at that college, she was the best one. I didn’t want to marry another girl and drift away from someone I could talk endlessly with.”
While his simple statement hung in the air, Ilan could still hear the ambient noise of the hustle and bustle downstairs. Jeganathan didn’t want to push, as he knew his son was much smarter than he’d ever been given the chance to become.
Instead, he simply unpaused his movie so they could both think in the racket of a forgettable action sequence. Ilan pulled out his phone, made a note in his calendar for the day after tomorrow, then put away the device and enjoyed the next two hours with his dad.
When his phone buzzed at lunch a couple of days later with a reminder, he called his mother.
“Hi Amma, Priya removed everything from the house, right? She said she would by last night.” A few too many beats passed for Ilan’s liking.
“Yes, ma, she did,” his mom then said.
“Can you take a picture of the living room floor and send it to me?” As Ilan expected, there was a long sigh followed by his mother trying to placate him.
“This is your wedding!” she reasoned in Tamil. “This is our way to help and it won’t be forever.” Ilan sighed back.
“That’s not the point, Amma.”
***********
“Oh, thank god you actually showed up,” Stephen Gallagher said after waving his sister down to the table where he and Noah were waiting. He hadn’t known this restaurant existed at Trafalgar and Lakeshore in downtown Oakville, but Nyssa requested it when they asked her to dinner. “When you told us to meet you here, I thought we were going to be punked.”
“And Sri Lankan food?” Noah added. “What’s the difference between this and Indian?” Nyssa gave her youngest brother her best shockface.
“You know how you guys are always bragging about your alcohol tolerance? Well, I’ve been building up my heat tolerance. You’re gonna know what the difference is between this and Indian when it burns going down.”
“Yeah, and probably coming out tomorrow morning,” Stephen deadpanned. The siblings giggled, reveling in their gross-out humour as they’d always done growing up. Nyssa was relieved to have this reprieve with her brothers after mooning over learning about Ilan’s engagement. It had been a month since she’d found out and she was feeling better. Not well, but better.
“Mmmm, god, Nyss, who turned you on to this?” Noah said several minutes later when they got their food. He tempered the burning on his tongue with a spoonful of plain yogurt between shoveling in bites of kothu roti. “What is this even called? It’s incredible.”
“Note to self,” Stephen muttered after swallowing a mouthful. “Marry a Sri Lankan girl so you can eat this stuff forever.” Nyssa bristled, then called the server to ask for a second glass of red wine.
“Anything special going on with you guys?” she said. The two men paused and exchanged a solemn look before Noah nodded to his brother.
“Nyssa,” Stephen straightened up. “Dad passed away about a month ago.” While they were unsure how their sister would process the information, Nyssa simply stared at Stephen for about five seconds before picking up another bite.
“Okay,” she said. “Did you guys need any help with funeral costs?”
“See, I told you,” Noah said to Stephen, who fished out his wallet with his clean hand and passed over a five-dollar bill.
“How’d he croak, anyway?” Nyssa asked, taking a sip of wine.
“Choked on a chicken bone,” Stephen said casually, before it dawned on him how they all sounded. “Damn, anyone listening to us right now would think we’re all grade-A sociopaths.” He shook his head with a half-smile.
“Correction,” Noah said, “Anyone listening to this conversation who has no idea what it’s like to suffer emotional abuse while being raised by narcissists would think we’re sociopaths. They have no clue, man. No clue what kind of psychological warfare we had to battle since we were kids. No idea what it’s like to have to buckle under and sacrifice basic dignity just to keep the fucking peace every fucking day.
“Nyss, you stood up to them what, like, five years ago?”
“Six,” she corrected.
“Six,” Noah nodded. “When you did that, I was only 17 and Steph was 18. We didn’t know talking to them like that was an option. I still thought anything they did, it was for our own good. Shit, you were only 23 and still had another year of school ahead of you, which I didn’t realise until way later made it all the more badass.”
“Guys, it’s okay,” Nyssa smiled, not wanting this night to get too emotional, especially after the month she’d just had. “It’s okay to not be bothered about the death of your abuser, and it’s okay to have not spoken to them for years prior. They were the adults and they all knew how they were messing with our heads.”
“We couldn’t have gotten out if it weren’t for you,” Stephen said, gently nudging Nyssa’s shoulder and giving her a grateful look. “Which brings me to the next thing. Obviously, dad didn’t leave you anything in his will or you would have been contacted by now. Most of it goes to mom, some goes to uncle Chet, and some to me and Noah.”
“The two of us want to pool our shares and split it three ways,” Noah finished.
“Guys, come on,” Nyssa protested. “I’m a lawyer. The pay isn’t what it would be if I was charging $450 an hour at a Toronto firm, but it’s better than decent. I was able to sock away enough to put both of you through school even during my first year working.”
“Exactly,” Noah countered. “Which is why even if he left us a grand total of fifty bucks, it’s getting split three ways.”
“Isn’t it enough that he’s probably spinning in his grave, thinking about us loving Sri Lankan food together?” Nyssa joked.
“Nyss, please,” Stephen said, his voice low. “Just let us do this. Even if you don’t want it, donate it to Black Lives Matter or something.”
“Holy shit, he’ll spin so fast he’ll drill a subway tunnel,” Noah muttered as they all snorted.
“Are you still in touch with mom or uncle Chet?” Nyssa asked them.
“I lurk her social media sometimes but other than that, no,” Stephen shook his head. “She hasn’t changed. Just a bunch of posts about ‘I’m entitled to think what I want about those people.'”
“Honestly, if I ever meet The One, no matter what race she is,” Noah added, “I’m just going to be straight-up about why my brother and sister are the only ones in my family she’ll ever know.” He picked up the remaining veggies with his last piece of kothu roti. “Then together, we’ll just tell everyone else who asks that my older family members are dead.”
Oh wow, that’s a good idea, Nyssa thought wistfully. Wish I’d thought of it six years ago.
***********
“Last minute arrest?” Nyssa wrinkled her nose at Ilan a few afternoons later as he handed her a folder. “It’s three-thirty and they’re not going to get a hearing today even if I can get ahold of someone.”
“Open it,” Ilan smiled. “I didn’t want everyone to see.”
Inside the file was an ornate, embossed wedding invitation that was maroon and yellow. Nyssa was simultaneously impressed and chagrined. She lowered her nose to it.
“Is that jasmine?” she asked, taking in the heady fragrance.
“Yeah,” Ilan sheepishly responded. “I wanted something simple but Priya said you only get married once so…”
“Maybe bring her here for family court one day,” Nyssa kidded. Ilan grinned at her.
“Glad to see your spirits are up a bit,” he said as Nyssa took the card out of the envelope and read it through. She stopped and glanced up at him.
“Oh,” she said. “I was that transparent, huh?”
“A little. Have you been okay lately?”
“Yeah,” Nyssa shrugged, having finally accepted she’d lost him forever. “You know how it is. Just issues with some guy.”
“I find it hard to believe any guy would let you have ‘issues’ with him instead of resolving them,” Ilan said, “but there’s nothing like the next to forget about the last. You should come to the wedding with Kai. I gave him an invite too.”
“He deserves better,” Nyssa elusively muttered. Before Ilan had a chance to ask her what she meant, she pointed to the card. “Hey, is this banquet hall actually in Markham like it says?” she asked. “Because I’ve been to a wedding at one with a similar name in Vaughan. Just don’t want to get lost on the day of.” Ilan grabbed the card and peered at it.
“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled to Nyssa’s surprise. He looked unsettled for a moment.
“Hey, a typo on your wedding invitation isn’t a big deal; Markham and Vaughan are right beside each other,” Nyssa offered.
“That’s not it,” Ilan said, his voice somewhat bothered. “I’ll get back to you.”
Ilan’s mind raced as he walked out of the building and into the parkette across the street from the courthouse, pulling out his cellphone. He thought about how Priya had simply handed him a stack of cards to give to his colleagues at work, and he’d just stuffed them in his shoulder bag without first looking at them because he was eager to get a head start on his drive west.
The first thing you do is read through every boring document you get and you didn’t even think to read your own wedding invitation? he chastised himself as he searched for his fiancée’s contact in his phone.
“Hey, I thought we agreed to get married at the temple,” he blurted out when she answered.
“Hello to you, too,” she replied, unimpressed.
“Well?”
“I’m not appreciating your rudeness right now, Ilan, but I told you what I thought of that idea.”
“You were serious about that?” Ilan said in disbelief.
“Yeah. You know people only get married at temples if it’s their second or third marriage, or if they don’t have enough money to afford something more grand.”
“Priya, that’s bullshit and you know it,” Ilan was trying to calm himself as he stalked around the playground, but he knew his voice sounded more agitated than he intended. “Does anyone ever think getting married in a church means you’re on your third marriage?”
“You know how people talk,” Priya tried to appease him. “The priest will still come to the banquet hall and do the exact same rituals. The difference is, the hall will have rooms for us to get ready in, and we’ll have much, much better food there.”
“No, actually, the difference is, I told you I really wanted to do this in the temple just like our parents and their parents, and their parents had done, and you said you agreed. Then you booked a hall and printed the cards behind my back when I trusted you.”
“I didn’t say I agreed; I said okay. As in, ‘okay, I get that’s important to you.'”
What Ilan really wanted to ask next was whether she was fucking kidding him. But he looked up at the sunny April sky and tried to refocus.
“Oak Point Banquet Hall isn’t cheap,” he said quietly. “How are we paying for that again?”
“We each make good money. And our parents also said they’d help.”
“Did you not even think to tell me any of this information before I asked?!” Ilan burst out again. “This isn’t fucking chair covers for the reception, Priya!”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” Priya shouted back. “The gall of you not getting involved in the planning and then criticising everything I’ve done!” Her voice quavered but Ilan wasn’t having it.
“Don’t you remember I tried? Don’t you remember I gave all the vendors my contact information as well but you said you’d take care of it and you didn’t need my help? I didn’t want to just show up to my own wedding like a mannequin, Priya, but I thought you’d represent both our interests instead of just doing what you wanted!”
“Look, I need a break, Ilan,” Priya said shakily. “And so do you. Call me back when you can talk to me like you actually love me.”
“Dammit!” he rued as his fiancée hung up on him.
“Hey, careful!” a familiar voice called out from the other side of the playground. “You’re tall enough to smack your head on the monkey bars back there.” Ilan sighed, then turned around.
“How much did you hear?” he flatly asked Nyssa.
“That’s not important,” she deflected. “Let me cut to the chase. How long have you been thinking about this wedding?”
“Thinking about it? Like planning it?” Ilan queried.
“Yeah, just the day; not the marriage.” Nyssa’s low-heeled pumps crunched the wood chips beneath her as she walked closer to him and sat on a swing.
“I dunno, maybe since I proposed. Maybe a few days after that?” Ilan said, taking a seat on the adjacent swing.
“Priya’s probably been thinking about this since the first year you were dating.”
“No way, Nyss,” Ilan rolled his eyes. “Who does that?”
“People who are serious enough that they know you’re The One within a few months,” Nyssa said. “A lot of people think ahead. Whether they can introduce you to their family, whether you’ll want the same things together…”
“Whether you’ll still stay friends even after the sex dries up?” Ilan offered. Nyssa briefly glanced over at him, her pale cheeks rouging.
“You were right back then,” she responded, even though she really wanted to pretend that entire fuckbuddy episode had never happened. The memory of Ilan’s weight on top of her and his forehead pressed against hers haunted her dreams most nights. “It was a good thing we stopped.”
“Why didn’t you and I work out, again?” he questioned.
“Come on, man, nothing good can come of this.”
“It’s the one question I never figured out the answer to,” he pressed. Nyssa pushed off against the ground and swung back.
“Like I told you, I wanted to stay focused,” she lied. “The question isn’t, why didn’t I work out with you; it’s why I didn’t work out with anyone. But that’s neither here nor there,” she rushed on.
“You should consider the possibility that Priya knows what she’s doing because she’s been thinking about this a lot longer than you have. She works in insurance for Chrissakes. She’s not going to take crazy risks for one big event.”
“But I feel like she doesn’t care about anything I want,” Ilan protested. “I know it’s this running joke that guys just show up and say ‘I do,’ but this is my wedding too and I’m not asking for a lot.”
“How do you know she hasn’t already taken your wants into consideration?” Nyssa countered. “I got within earshot just before the call ended, but I could see you losing your mind from across the street. It didn’t look like you let her explain a whole lot. By the way, you realise this side of the building is where all the judge’s chambers’ windows are, right?”
“Shit on a stick,” Ilan laughed as he tipped his head back and looked at the sky.
“Go talk to her, bring her flowers, and I’m sure a few more things will make sense,” Nyssa said softly. She ignored the lump forming in her throat and instead held up her wristwatch to show her friend. “We’ve got 10 minutes left on break and the guy who was arrested for dancing on a car last night swears his friend is going to show up to bail him out.” Ilan laughed again and dismounted the swing.
“Good. Car-dancing guy is exactly what I need right now.”
As they strolled back across the street and through the courthouse parking lot, Ilan tried to push away the nagging thought that he wished things had ended differently with the thoughtful woman walking alongside him.
***********
“Ilan… yes, baby, yes, yes, yes…” Priya breathed as her fiancé sucked on her left breast, then added a third finger to the two that were already inside her. After she shuddered and collapsed back on the bed, she hoped he would put on the condom because she didn’t really feel like going down on him today.
It was the first thing he’d done to her as soon they’d gotten into her bedroom, but she figured this was part of his apology. As though he’d read her mind, Ilan rolled on the sheath and got back into bed. Priya wasted no time pushing him onto his back and mounting him, then rocking herself to another orgasm.
“Baby, if you stop now I’m gonna have to flip you over,” Ilan gasped. When Priya steadied herself with her hands on his chest and drew closer, he took it as a yes and made good on his promise.
Looking into her brown eyes and enveloped in the light pine scent of her skin lotion, he remembered all over again why he fell in love with her.
As Ilan collapsed atop his fiancée, half-balanced on his elbows, he smiled and quickly pecked her lips before drawing out.
“I’m really sorry, again,” he told her after returning from the bathroom.
“For that?” Priya joked. “Don’t be.” Ilan laughed and slipped under the covers with her.
“You thought about the logistics of getting dressed at the venue and how to feed our guests,” he said, “and I hadn’t. You’re planning all this stuff in addition to your job so that I don’t have to. I should have thanked you instead of yelling at you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Priya said, nuzzling her face against his neck.
“There’s just one thing, and it’s not too late to change it,” Ilan remembered, turning to face her. “I want you and me to pay for everything.” Priya raised her eyebrows just as Ilan looked away, trying to collect his thoughts.
“My parents live in a 50-year-old house in Malvern,” he said. “I don’t know how your parents are doing, but I do know you’re an underwriter and I’m a Crown attorney. We can definitely swing this.”
“What about saving for our future, baby?” Priya asked, her fingers in his chest hair.
“We earn enough to swing this and save for our future. I don’t know if you talked about anything concrete with our parents, but we should tell them ASAP we don’t need their help. We also need to think about them and their futures.”
A silence ensued as Priya considered what her fiancé was saying.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll let them know we can do this on our own.”
“All of it,” Ilan confirmed. “The wedding, the rehearsal dinner, and the reception.”
“Right, the rehearsal dinner,” Priya sighed. “That’s another production we have to pull off.”
Ilan returned to work the next day rejuvenated and wishing he’d made up with Priya earlier instead of waiting a few days. He looked around for Nyssa to thank her for the pep talk but she didn’t seem to be assigned to bail court with him.
“You got laid, didn’t you?” Kai asked him as he and Ilan went for subs at lunch.
“What if I’m just in a good mood?”
“Because you got laid, didn’t you? Come on, man, I’m happy that at least one of us did.”
“That, and I was able to make up with Priya after we briefly fought,” Ilan capitulated. He told his friend about the mix-up with the wedding invitations and how he’d gotten a different perspective from talking with Nyssa. The look Kai gave him while pulling on the door of the subway place wasn’t comforting, though.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk about this, Ilan, but I have to ask. Is this your first serious relationship?”
“What?”
“I know you’re writing this off as a misunderstanding, but if my fiancée printed up the wedding invitations without clearing it with me first, then sent them off with something on there she knew I didn’t agree to, I sure wouldn’t think I was wrong for being upset.” He made sure to keep talking so Ilan wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“I mean, it’s not about the venue or the centerpieces or whatever. It’s the fact that she went behind my back when I trusted her with a huge job. She wanted to do all the planning on her own, right? You’re not just being an arsehole and begging off?”
“No, no, I wanted to be involved but she said she wanted to do it her way.”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly the problem,” Kai pinpointed. “You’re clearly a more forgiving guy than I am, but I’d see a red flag that she seems to think she’s the only one getting married. You’re not an accessory–you’re her partner and she’s not treating you that way.”
Ilan was quiet while they ordered and had their sandwiches made, and Kai was afraid he’d overstepped. After they paid on the other end of the line, he tried to backpedal.
“Look, I’m an arsehole,” he conceded when they sat down at a table.
“No, you’re not,” Ilan laughed. “I mean, you are, I’ve seen you rip people apart on the stand–”
“If you’re talking about that cop who was caught on the dash-cam imitating a Chinese accent when he traffic-stopped that Asian man, that motherfucker had it coming.”
“–but I think you’re just being a good friend here,” Ilan finished. “I appreciate it. I wanted to reset where we were so I told Priya it was important to me that she and I pay for everything and not to bother our folks for money.”
“Hey, I hope it works out exactly the way you want it to,” Kai said. “And I’m honoured you haven’t revoked my invitation to the rehearsal dinner.”
“Aaargh, I’m gonna need you there, man,” Ilan said. “Maybe you can pull out those Maori skills and lead a haka to liven things up for me.” Kai laughed, then coughed as he’d been in the process of swallowing a bite of his sub.
“Yeah, I’ll be the only one doing it and your bride will then have me thrown out for disturbing the ambiance.”
Is that how he sees Priya? Ilan pondered while they ate for the next minute in silence. Kai hasn’t even met Priya and all he knows about her is what I’ve told him. Is that how I talk about her?
What he’d loved about her when they’d met was how she was spontaneous and easy to please. He thought back to when he first spotted her at the Pongal festival at their temple, wearing a bright yellow sari and standing across the aisle from him and his mother in front of a deity.
When his mom waved to her mom a few minutes later and they talked after the service, it seemed perfect that they were already family friends.
“I’d ask if you came here often, but by the way you’re looking around like it’s a museum…” she smirked at him as their parents caught up. He found himself flabbergasted staring into her wide eyes outlined with a black liquid liner.
“Umm, yeah, I’ve been away at school so I don’t really get the chance–”
“I’m kidding,” Priya had smiled. “Hey, wanna bet they’re going to talk for so long they won’t even notice if we run across the street for a coffee?” Ilan had been taken aback by her boldness, the likes of which he’d never experienced coming from Sri Lankan girls. “Come on, they won’t miss us,” Priya had insisted, her sari swaying as she was already halfway to the temple entrance.
They would have been a strange sight, walking into a coffee shop dressed to the nines in South Asian gear–if it hadn’t been Scarborough, where Tamil temples were just as ubiquitous as Tim Horton’s. Ilan felt not only flattered but charmed when she seamlessly asked him out a second time as they sipped their double-doubles.
She actually led the charge when we got together, he recalled, justifying it was only natural of her to take control of their wedding planning. Yet… all these years when he’d been admiring how bold and straightforward she’d been, had he inadvertently taught her how to treat him?
“Ya know, I’m here for a reason,” Kai interrupted his thoughts. “It’s so you don’t have to look like a loon, scowling at the wall.”
“Sorry,” Ilan shook his head. “I was just thinking about how Priya and I met, and how we changed over the years.” He glanced at the remainder of his sub just as Kai furrowed his brow. “And I was wondering whether either of us really changed at all, or whether I was just noticing a bunch of things for the first time.”
“Ilan,” Kai said quietly. “I mean this in the gentlest way possible. I know I’ve never been in your spot before but my understanding of the engagement period is that it teaches you a lot about what your life together is going to be like.
“Maybe it’s just the stress of pulling off a massive event, but… you know it doesn’t have to be massive, right? I mean, you’ve already told me about at least three parties before the wedding that I wouldn’t even show up for if I were the groom.” Ilan snorted while finishing his sandwich.
“I think what I’m trying to say is, think about whether you want the rest of your life to have the same feel of how things are right now. If that makes you nervous, sit with that and figure out why.”
***********
“Hey, Amma, why are you getting letters from Clark-Morton again?” Ilan called out to his mother a few months later. It had been a stroke of luck that no new arrests had been brought in after lunch and they could close court early, allowing him to drive to Scarborough in time for the rehearsal dinner. He held open the front screen door of his parents’ house after picking up the mail off their doorstep.
“Are they just sending you junk now?” he asked, waving the one letter from the bank.
“Give that to me,” his mother sternly instructed in Tamil as she snatched the stack of letters and flyers from his hands.
“You’re not banking with them again, are you?” Ilan pressed. “You always complained about how bad they were. Can I help you find other savings accounts without the fees they’ll charge you?”
“Wash your hands and have a snack,” Malathi told him.
“Amma, are we having two different conversations?” Ilan said seriously, blocking her path in the hallway. “If they were just sending you garbage, you would have said that by now. Can you open this, please?”
“Ilan, I have to get dressed. We have to be at the hall for the rehearsal din–”
“I’ll show up like this if you don’t open it now.” Ilan gestured to his ratty t-shirt and jeans he’d worn for the drive over after work. His mother glared at him but tossed the rest of the mail onto the side table and ripped open the lone letter from Clark-Morton. She avoided eye contact with her son as he took the notice from her hands.
“What is this?” he asked, confused. “You and Appa paid off the house when I was 17. We had a party.” Malathi remained silent. “No,” Ilan all but whispered. “Tell me you didn’t take out a second mortgage, Amma.” When his mother sighed while finally looking up at him, Ilan bounded up the stairs.
“Appa!” he shouted before almost colliding with his father in front of the upstairs bathroom, the older man’s face covered in shaving cream. “What is this? Why did you do this?” One glance at the letter made Jeganathan look to the ceiling in exasperation.
“Malathi!” he shouted down the stairs in Tamil. “You really had to show him?”
“I didn’t show him anything; he took it away before I could hide it! Why didn’t you pick up the mail instead of watching movies all day?!”
“All day? All day?? Did you pack my lunch so I could eat it at home?! You know I got home from work at three and–”
“Then why didn’t you pick up the mail instead of stepping over it?!” Malathi interrupted from the foot of the stairs. Ilan shut his eyes and hoped the throbbing in his head wasn’t the onset of a migraine.
“Can’t a man have a peaceful pee when he gets home from work?!”
“Both of you, stop it!” Ilan hollered as he sat exhausted at the top of the stairs. “Appa, calm down; you know you can’t get worked up because of your heart. Just tell me the truth.” Jeganathan ruefully shook his head and went back to the bathroom.
“I have to shave,” he refused. “Your mother is the one who said yes.” Ilan threw his mom a questioning glance as he skipped back down the stairs.
“Yes to whom, Amma?” Malathi was the picture of unnerved and Ilan knew he didn’t actually need her answer. He pulled out his phone and cursed to himself as his fingers shook trying to find Priya’s contact.
“No, ma,” Malathi took Ilan’s hands in hers. “It’s done. Priya’s parents are also contributing extra money for the wedding events and it wouldn’t look good if we didn’t.”
“That’s irrelevant, Amma,” Ilan practically hissed. “She promised me several months ago she wouldn’t involve any of you. I knew the deposits had already been paid but I thought she and I were going to take care of the balance after the wedding.
“Appa’s going to retire in just five years and you’ve taken a second mortgage out on the house? So we can throw a bunch of parties??”
“Don’t ruin tonight,” Malathi beseeched him. “It was only a partial loan; it wasn’t for the full value of the house. We still have most of it.” At that, Ilan slowly put his phone back in his pocket but his face was still stormy. He sat on the stairs and balanced his head in his hands.
“Amma, I don’t know if I can do this. Not tonight and maybe not at all.”
“No, son,” Malathi said in alarm. “You have to do this. You’ve been seeing each other for six years now! That’s not a joke in our community. Do you know how many times I’ve had to answer when you’re going to get married? Whatever you’re angry about, we can undo it–just after the wedding.”
“If I hadn’t found the mail, none of you would have ever told me, would you?” Ilan simply asked.
“Because we knew you would get needlessly upset,” Malathi rationalised. “Son, it’s our job as your parents to set you up in the world and have you in good standing in the eyes of the community.
Weddings are important. If you have any regard for me at all, only bring this up with Priya after tonight. I’m begging you.”
Ilan exhaled hard and cursed his mother’s skillful emotional blackmail. As he showered and got ready, his mind whirling in latent ire all the while, he found himself trying more than a few times to get his breathing under control.
Before they left for the banquet hall, he checked his phone while waiting in the car for his parents.
Sorry I can’t be there tonight, Nyssa had texted him. Kai said he’ll give me all the colourful details tomorrow.
Nyssa. As if he needed that extra thorn twisted in his side right now, thinking about the woman who’d lately been making him feel the way he thought his fiancée would.
Do we still have that shoebox full of blow in evidence from the drug bust case? he replied, unsure if Nyssa would get the joke. I may need it tonight.
Sorry, no, Nyssa instantly wrote back. My friends set me up on a blind date last week and I helped myself. Ilan unwittingly broke out in a grin, the first one he’d had all day. Nyssa had been scheduled in plea court for the last three weeks and he’d missed seeing her. I’m sure it’ll be much more fun than you expect, she continued. I’ll check in later.
“Thank god you’re smiling,” Malathi told him as she plunked down in the back seat, making sure her sari wouldn’t get caught in the car door before slamming it shut. “I was afraid I’d have to answer more questions.”
“Amma, did you ever think to just tell everyone in the community to shut up and mind their own goddamn business?” Ilan asked as he pulled out of the driveway while his dad was buckling himself in the passenger seat.
“That’s what I’ve been saying for years,” Jeganathan seconded.
“You all say this, but what will you do when everyone gossips about us at the temple?” Malathi asked.
“I know exactly what I’d say, but I said it once in high school and you put soap in my mouth,” Ilan muttered. Jeganathan laughed, then rubbed his chest with a cough.
When they spotted Priya and her parents in the front foyer, she was talking to the hall manager but broke away to greet them.
“You’re looking serious,” she grinned at Ilan. “Relax, tonight is supposed to be fun!”
“Right. Because that’s what we paid for, isn’t it?” Ilan mumbled. Priya briefly raised an eyebrow at him but Malathi widened her eyes in a sharp stare.
The hours seemed to drag on until the Sun had completely set and dinner was being served. Priya was occupied with her friends and family, leaving Ilan time to look around the room. He had barely said anything most of the night, not even to Kai who had been seated a few tables over.
At least he looks like he’s having fun, Ilan smiled inwardly at the sight of his friend chatting up Priya’s lovely cousin. Enjoy it while it lasts, buddy. Then he caught sight of his dad rubbing his chest and whispering something to his mom at the other end of the table. Ilan narrowed his eyes as his father got up and walked slowly in the direction of the men’s room.
He glanced back and noticed his fiancée deep in discussion with her work colleague, so he excused himself and followed his father to the washroom. There, kneeling on one knee while holding on to a sink for support, was Jeganathan rubbing his chest more vigorously than he had all night.
“Appa!” Ilan exclaimed, putting his arm around his dad’s shoulder. He immediately thought of the fight they’d had when he discovered the mortgage notice and was awash in guilt for raising his father’s blood pressure when he could have gone about it differently.
Twenty minutes later, he helped his beleaguered mother into his car to follow the ambulance to the hospital. The entire guest list of their rehearsal dinner watched in stunned silence in the parking lot.
“I’ll close things up and meet you there,” Priya told Ilan as she lightly touched his arm. “It’s going to be okay.” In that moment, Ilan was grateful to the universe for giving her to him. He mentally kicked himself for ever fantasizing about any woman other than his fiancée.
Ilan and Malathi thought they’d get periodic updates in the ER waiting room, but once they’d been informed Jeganathan was stable and needed to go through a battery of tests, it was silence from hospital staff.
I’ll just rest my eyes, Ilan thought, wishing this hellish night would be over. He next felt his head droop forward but didn’t have the strength to fight off the sleep that overtook him.
***********
Ilan startled himself awake in his chair, simultaneously trying to wipe the drool off his chin and frantically looking around for a clock in the waiting room.
One-thirty? he thought in disbelief while scrunching his dry eyes. Is dad still in tests? He squinted around when he realised his mother was no longer sitting beside him, then noticed she was several rows up front with her back toward him. With her was a figure wearing a trench coat and beanie, letting Malathi rest her head on their shoulder as she slept.
Priya, Ilan thought in relief. God, thank you for letting me have her as my partner. He staggered over, noticing the person with his mother was hunched over and scrolling on her phone with her free hand. Then he noticed the pale skin of that hand before he saw her face.
“Nyssa?” he said in bewilderment. “What on earth are you even doing here?” Nyssa jumped a bit at hearing her name, then wrinkled her nose when that small movement proved enough to wake Malathi on her shoulder.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she apologised.
“No, no, ma,” Malathi raised her tired body off the younger woman’s bicep. “Your arm must be stiff. That was the best sleep I had in weeks.” She saw Ilan and motioned toward the women’s restrooms, then slowly walked off to refresh herself.
“I told you I’d text after the party,” Nyssa reminded Ilan as he sat down beside her, vaguely aware he must have looked and smelled like a dumpster. “When you didn’t answer, I checked in with Kai and he told me everything.” While Ilan stared at her with his mouth half-open, she went on.
“I got here a couple of hours ago and saw you sleeping, and your poor mom crying beside you. So we moved over here and talked. She said she remembered me from the one time we met at your student house in law school. Then I said it’s fine for her to take a nap on my shoulder. She needed to be told it was okay like, seven times before she took me up on it.”
“Yeah, that sounds like her,” Ilan smiled. “Wait, you got here two hours ago?” Nyssa looked at her phone clock to make sure and nodded. “And you didn’t see anyone else here?”
“Well, there were tonnes of people here, Ilan,” Nyssa gave him a half-smile. “But I’m guessing you’re asking about anyone else from the dinner? I came in at about the same time as your sister.” Both Ilan’s eyebrows shot up, and he hoped Anandi hadn’t remembered or connected that Nyssa had been the girl who’d broken his heart in law school.
“Did you…” Ilan cleared his throat, “…did you talk?”
“A little. I told her to go home. I mean, she told me she just found out she’s pregnant and she has your niece at home already. She was beside herself and she needs her rest. I promised I’d text her with updates until your dad is released.”
“Nyss, you didn’t have to do any of this. I can’t believe you drove all the way over from Oakville in the middle of the night to be here.”
“I’m not scheduled tomorrow and it was either this or binge-watching all the Star Wars films in order.” She half-reclined as she stretched out her sweatpants-clad legs from beneath the trench coat. Ilan was beyond touched.
“You didn’t see anyone else here?” he asked her. Nyssa shook her head no, then turned in the other direction when she saw Malathi returning.
“Amma, do you want a coffee?” she asked. Ilan’s eyes bugged out enough that his mother erupted in laughter.
“I told her to call me that instead of Mrs. S. Don’t you remember I said the same to all your school friends?”
“So hey, now I can speak Tamil,” Nyssa grinned.
“At least one of us can,” Ilan ran his hand through his hair, still reeling from the surreal nature of this night. When Nyssa left for the coffee kiosk, he sat down with his mother and hugged her, saddened at the little sob that caught in her throat.
“You didn’t see Priya here, did you?” he stated, knowing it wasn’t really a question at this point.
“Maybe she came when I was asleep,” Malathi tried, interrupted by her son robustly shaking his head no.
“Nyssa only mentioned you and Anandi being here. She didn’t see anyone else dressed like us.” For the first time that night, Ilan noted, his mother didn’t argue with him. They sat with their mutual discomfort of what was staring them in the face until Nyssa returned with a full beverage tray.
“Here’s yours, Ilan,” she said, handing him a cup. “Slightly weaker than cocaine, just how you like it.” Ilan chuckled as his friend turned to his mom. “Okay, Amma, I know you said you have sugar issues, but just take one sip of my pumpkin spice latte,” Nyssa insisted. “I brought your coffee but I got an empty cup too.”
She poured some of her own drink out for Malathi and handed her the small cup filled an inch deep. Ilan’s mother sighed a long, peaceful sigh as the sweetness coated her tongue.
“It’s like liquid gulab jamuns,” she said, a groggy smile on her face. “I feel awake again.” They took their time with their coffees, the single reprieve from a dreadful night that seemed to want to keep dragging on.
But when Nyssa stood to recycle their cups, she caught sight of a nurse stepping out from behind the triage desk and waving them down. She pointed and Ilan hurried to the front while Nyssa brought Malathi more slowly. A doctor then pulled them aside.
“I won’t keep you in suspense,” she said to Malathi. “The tests indicate your husband had a bad case of heartburn or acid reflux.” Ilan felt like he lost 10 lbs just by letting his breath out, and saw the palpable relief on his mother’s and friend’s faces. The doctor turned back to her clipboard. “The signs are almost identical to those of a heart attack so you were right to bring him in.
“There were no abnormalities on the echocardiogram. Once we ruled out the heart, we had him do a barium swallow to check out his esophagus, really due to his age. There was nothing of note there, either.” She turned back to Malathi. “Does he eat a lot of fried foods?” Ilan instantly saw an image of a vadai in his head and facepalmed himself. His mother just weakly nodded.
“It would be a great time to slow that down,” the doctor said with a smile. “His liver will also thank him. He’s signed his discharge papers and he’s getting dressed right now.”
After Ilan thanked the doctor and watched his mother step into the back area to retrieve his dad, he turned to Nyssa.
“I don’t know how I can repay you for being here,” he said, pulling her close in a bear hug. The clock showed two-thirty and Ilan could not have cared less about propriety at that hour. It was only when he felt Nyssa’s breath on his neck that his brain reminded him that the last time they’d been together at 2:30 a.m., they’d been naked in her bed.
He instantly unhanded her at that moment in a wave of panic and guilt, despite the fact he hadn’t had a hug all day and wanted to hold her longer.
“Just promise me something,” Nyssa said solemnly. “The next time you’re about to prosecute someone for stealing baby formula at 8 a.m., you withdraw those charges.” The sheer irrelevance of the request made Ilan crack up.
“No plea deal, no nothing,” Nyssa went on with a grin as he laughed. “Think about your night from hell just now and know that anyone doing that first thing in the morning had a worse night than you. Got it?” Ilan nodded. Not being able to help himself, he dragged Nyssa back to his chest.
“Ilan, your parents are watching,” Nyssa whispered, hugging him back this time. But he was all out of fucks to give.
“Let them.”
***********
“Dude, you’re getting married tomorrow and you’re here today?” Kai questioned Ilan two mornings later when he spotted him in an interview room before court convened.
“Yeah, well, I missed yesterday and I’m going to miss the next two weeks,” Ilan tried to justify. The rehearsal dinner had been Tuesday night. He’d slept on and off on Wednesday, as did his parents, and as he imagined Nyssa had. The truth was, he didn’t know what would be happening in the next two weeks.
Ilan had napped in his childhood bed after leaving the hospital despite Nyssa’s offer to drive him back to his place in Oakville. Only when he woke up around noon Wednesday did he check his phone to about 20 texts from Priya, the first of which she’d sent at 8 a.m.
Baby, sorry, but closing and paying took longer than I thought, plus a lot of guests wanted to talk about what happened, she’d written. Then I realised I didn’t know which hospital you were at. My mom said I needed my sleep because I couldn’t show up at the wedding with bags un–
That’s when Ilan had gingerly put his phone down on his bed before he gave into the urge to hurl it against the wall.
A hundred fucking texts now but you couldn’t even send one message to ask which hospital we went to? he seethed inwardly. Quietly going downstairs because he wasn’t sure if his parents had woken up yet, he was disappointed but not surprised to see his mother hadn’t slept in.
“Will this convince you?” he asked her point-blank. “You heard Priya say she’d join us at the hospital. But the only people who came were your daughter and my work colleague. My law school friend, of all people, was there for you when your future daughter-in-law was sound asleep without a care in the world. Can we call this off now, Amma?”
Malathi slowly turned around as the sizzle of the masala dosa she was cooking in a cast-iron skillet remained the only sound in the room. Then she turned back around to flip the paper-thin crepe over.
“And before you answer, I want you to know I’m not asking your permission here,” Ilan continued. “I’m trying to take your feelings into consideration, and I don’t want to blindside you before I call Priya and split up with her.”
This time, Malathi swiveled around with breakneck speed.
“It’s too late, ma,” she murmured, almost as a lament. “Think of both of your lives–”
“I am!” Ilan growled, unsuccessfully trying to control his volume.
“No, you’re not! No one will ever marry you for doing this to her and no one will ever marry her for spending six years with you doing god-knows-what, just to end in a broken engagement! Think of all the money we’ll have wasted!” She paused. “Is this about that girl last night?”
“‘That girl?'” Ilan’s voice dripped with umbrage. “You mean the girl who drove an hour in the middle of the night after a party she didn’t even attend was over, because she thought I needed help? The girl whose shoulder you slept on for an hour, and who treated you with more love than Priya ever has? That girl, Amma?”
“I saw how you hugged her.”
“And guess what? I would have hugged Priya the exact same way, and more if she actually bothered to pretend she was a part of this family! You know damn well if it were her dad who had a suspected heart attack, she would dump me in a second if I’d done what she did!”
Malathi scowled at her son, prompting him to throw his hands up in disgust. He was exhausted with this merry-go-round, knowing he’d lost simply because he and his mother didn’t prioritise the same values. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Take this and go eat in your room,” his father calmly told him in Tamil, as he scooped coconut chutney on a plate and handed it to him. Ilan noted the irony that the words his dad used for punishing him as a kid were a welcome pardon right now.
A few dosas later, Ilan felt better and started the drive back to Oakville. He didn’t know what his father had said to his mother but he was far too fed up with this entire melodrama to call and risk another fight.
Thursday in the courthouse interview room, he hadn’t heard from either of them and was tempted to tell Kai he wasn’t going through with the wedding. He suspected his friend would be the first to cheer his decision, but before he could open his mouth Kai’s phone buzzed.
“Sensitive case being brought up from cells?” he read the text aloud with a raised eyebrow. “Lawyer’s family? If my entire clan wasn’t back in Auckland, I’d be worried,” he motioned to Ilan with his chin. “Come on.”
“She’s my niece!” the defendant shouted as the court officers unlocked the prisoner’s box and guided him inside. He was a large man with a shaved head, wearing baggy cargo pants and a white t-shirt under a plaid vest.
“Check out the tattoos,” Kai mumbled to Ilan. “He’s not going to take a shine to either one of us, mate.” Ilan saw the swastika and Confederate flag emblazoned on the defendant’s arms and drew a deep breath. They stood as the justice of the peace entered the court and Kai stepped to the podium to inform her that he hadn’t yet spoken to the accused.
“I don’t need to talk to you or your brother over there,” the defendant interrupted. “My niece is a defense lawyer and I won’t participate until you bring her in to represent me.” It was only then that Ilan remembered to glance down at his docket.
Chet Gallagher? he thought, puzzled. Kai’s face echoed his bewilderment. This neo-Nazi lunatic is Nyssa’s uncle? How the hell did she turn out the way she did? He then noticed the JP looking directly at him to say something.
“Uh, my apologies, Your Worship,” he stammered while considering the options. “Under the circumstances, the Crown is willing to conduct this matter in chambers if it pleases the court. It’s my understanding the attorney to whom the defendant is referring is scheduled elsewhere in the building today.”
“My stance exactly, Mr. Shivanesan,” the JP nodded before setting a time for him and Kai to meet her in a temporary office.
“I won’t get a fair trial with those two!” Chet boomed as the officers unlocked the box to take him back down to cells. “Especially not that Muslim over there! Tell Nyssa!” The JP and officers looked unimpressed as he left, but Kai and Ilan exchanged uncomfortable glances.
For the rest of the morning, Ilan was on autopilot as he zoomed through the remaining cases on the docket. He was adept enough at his job that he could concentrate on the bails before him while still perplexed at their first case of the day.
“That’s wild about Nyssa’s uncle, huh?” Ilan said to Kai the second they left the building for lunch. “I hope people aren’t gossiping about it. I haven’t seen her today or else I’d already have let her know.”
“I’m sure she knows her uncle’s a Nazi,” Kai said casually, “but it’s a miracle she isn’t. It’s hard not to get indoctrinated into that shit when your close family is that deep into it.” They strolled around the corner to the pizza place when it seemed Kai had a lightbulb moment.
“It might explain a couple of things, though,” he went on. “At least I know she didn’t turn me down for a date because of my rancid personality.” Ilan snapped to attention and gave his friend a wide-eyed expression. “Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in, Mr. Engaged,” Kai grinned. “She’s sweet and I thought I’d shoot my shot.
“But with a family like that, it’d make sense she’d think ahead as to whether she could introduce a non-white guy to them one day.” Ilan’s loafer caught in the sidewalk gap and he almost tripped at the bolt of lightning that hit his brain.
Holy shit, he realised, flashing back to their budding relationship Nyssa had put to a stop all those years ago, as well as the friends-with-benefits deal he hadn’t been able to stomach thereafter. But Kai was too busy thinking out loud to recognise his friend was having the epiphany of a lifetime.
“Or maybe not,” he said, hitting the button for the walk signal across the intersection. “She was probably already low-contact, considering what a whack-job just the one guy is. In which case,” he sighed, “she was likely honest about why she turned me down.” He finally looked back at Ilan after they got through the crosswalk, oblivious as to whom he was sharing this information with.
“She told me there was some dude in law school she never got over. I thought it was weird because she said she hurt him and that didn’t make any sense, but…”
Ilan didn’t even hear the rest of what Kai said, trying to fight the light-headedness that was threatening to drop him in the pizzeria parking lot. He didn’t remember how his lunch tasted or even how he made it through the afternoon bail session.
All he could think about was finishing up the day and getting to his car as fast as humanly possible.
***********
“How I wish… how I wish you were heeeere,” Nyssa slurred, throwing her head back and over the side of her bright pink beanbag chair in her basement den. “We’re just two lost souls swimmin’ in a fish bowwwwl… year after year!”
She hadn’t drank alone since the day she found out Ilan got engaged, and she swore she wouldn’t mimic the toxicity of how her parents dealt with problems. But this… this was the night before his wedding. This time tomorrow he’s going to be Priya’s husband, and I will have cemented the worst fuck-up of my life, she thought, setting down her third beer bottle on the floor.
But she still had enough wherewithal to have only brought down three bottles and not give into the temptation to light herself up like a Christmas tree. This was the maximum amount of sloshed she was going to allow herself to get.
After Pink Floyd faded out from her speakers, Nyssa looked up at the window wells and noticed it was past dusk. The deafening silence of the night she had tried to fill in with music and alcohol suddenly stared at her in all its nakedness, and she felt a tear roll down her face.
Then another, and another, until she was wracked with sobs she couldn’t control. She’d considered telling Ilan everything six months ago when she first learned he was getting married, but what would have been the point? All she would have done was mess with his head, and she swore she’d never do that again after the first time.
She bawled into her sweatshirt, curling her legging-clad knees up to her chest. But then, the sound of a garbage bin falling over outside startled her out of her crying.
Is that a raccoon? she wondered, climbing up on a desk chair and cupping her hands over the window to try and see through the dim light. No, someone’s out there. Whoever it was chose that moment to lightly rap the basement windows and Nyssa almost fell off her chair in alarm.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand and grabbed her hockey stick. It may not have been the decision she’d have come to if she wasn’t three beers deep, but turning off the lights and opening the front door seemed perfectly logical at the time.
Slowly, she crept onto the porch with her stick raised in the darkness as she spotted a tall figure coming around the side of the house. But as she brought her weapon down on his head, he caught it.
“Jesus Christ, Nyss! I know I bumped into your recycling bin but you don’t need to club me for it!”
“Ilan?” Nyssa’s vision was hazy as she peered into his dark eyes. The alcohol wasn’t helping.
“I tried the doorbell but thought maybe you didn’t hear it with the loud music coming from the–whoa!” Ilan caught her around the waist as she nearly stumbled off the porch, then led her back inside. He parked the hockey stick and locked the door without unhanding her.
“What are you doing here?” she said as he switched on the lights. She took him downstairs because for some inexplicable reason, she badly wanted to be parked in her beanbag chair right then. Maybe so I don’t have to hold myself up, she reasoned.
“Nyss, are you drunk?” Ilan asked with concern.
“Nahhhh, I’m just buzzed,” she gave him a sloppy grin.
“How many have you–nevermind,” he said, spotting the three bottles on the floor of the den. “Look, I start to get buzzed after three and I’ve got 40 lbs on you. This doesn’t seem like you.” He tried to hold her around the shoulders but she flopped onto her beanbag chair before he could get a good grip.
“Yeah… so… whaddya doing here?” she repeated as he lowered himself into her desk chair. That last beer was really starting to hit and she was contemplating if she was dreaming his presence. “Oh yeah, wait, don’t you have some wedding stuff to do before tomorrow?”
“No.” The short answer was not what she needed. Bemused, she just squinted at her friend. “Nyss, I called the wedding off,” Ilan said softly.
“Oh.” Geez, I really must be dreaming. Next thing, Lin Manuel Miranda’s gonna jump out and rap about how pissed Priya is. “You–okay.”
“Are you sure we can have this conversation right now, Nyssa?” Ilan asked. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She heard the front door open, then close again a minute later. In another minute he reappeared in the den with a glass of water and a delicious-smelling paper bag. “Drink it all right now,” he ordered. “We’re going to ply you with water and grease to mop up that booze.”
“Ilan, I’m full,” Nyssa complained even as she grabbed the paper bag and pushed an onion ring into her mouth, then another. “Mmmm… okay, I’m a little… mpfph…”
“Good girl,” he smiled.
Despite her inability to think lucidly, Nyssa was instantly transported back to another moment when they were both in her bed. She had just finished bucking her hips right off the mattress, with Ilan’s weight being the only thing that held her down.
As she’d panted and grasped the umber skin of his shoulders, he’d whispered those same words into her ear–“good girl.” Ilan noticed her expression change and seemed worried again.
“What is it? Are the rings okay?”
“No, no, it’s not the food,” Nyssa shook her head and embarrassedly glanced down at her lap. Oh my god, he looks like a better snack than what’s in this bag and I look and smell like last week’s laundry. “Umm… did you just say you’re not getting married tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Ilan pursed his lips as he collected his thoughts. “I’ve noticed a lot of differences between Priya and me that didn’t present themselves until we got engaged. She–I don’t know if she changed or if I did, but I realised in the last few weeks that if we went through with this, we’d grow further apart very quickly.” Nyssa couldn’t believe this was happening.
I have to pee, she thought. But if I pee in my sleep–’cause this is definitely a dream–my mattress will be ruined so I have to wake up… have to wake up. The corners of Ilan’s mouth then turned upward.
“Sweetie, are you pinching your hand behind the paper bag?” he snickered.
“Uhhhh…” she looked down at the pink skin on the back of her wrist. Ilan then rolled the desk chair closer to her.
“I’m not making this up and you’re not dreaming,” he said before pressing his lips to her forehead, then her flushed cheek. Nyssa’s heart raced and she leapt to her feet.
“Be right back,” she stammered. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, her hands shaking as she brushed her teeth and washed her face with cold water. No time for makeup now, she wrinkled her nose at her freckles, but at least the dead vermin smell from your mouth is gone.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised when she re-entered the room. “I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight, least of all you so I… I swear I was going to stop at three,” she weakly ended.
“Why were you getting hammered in the first place?” Ilan asked. “Let me guess–issues with some guy?” Nyssa froze. “Nyss, I know everything. Your uncle was arrested today and I know he’s a white supremacist.” Nyssa’s hands flew to her gaping mouth.
“He was what?”
“He asked for you in court. Well, more like bellowed, but don’t worry. Kai and I put a note in the file that every time he makes an appearance you’re not to be paged.”
“But you’re not the only Crown who’s going to have carriage of the file!” Nyssa was almost in tears. “And everyone will know my family is…”
“Don’t,” Ilan said, wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t, Nyss. First of all, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s not your fault, and everyone in court today was shocked that guy was related to you.
“It is not within our ability to change the people close to us, and you didn’t fail because you couldn’t make your family members better people.” Ilan paused. “There’s something else I know as well.” Nyssa looked up at him, her instinct telling her this was somehow going to be worse.
“You liked me as much as I liked you back in law school, but you shut things down between us because you knew you couldn’t hide me from your family forever.” He took a small step closer toward her. “And I know you felt awful for hurting me, and you didn’t date anyone else since then because you were hung up on me.”
Nyssa’s hands now covered her whole face, as though they could somehow cloak her.
“However,” he put his fingers in her curly blonde hair tied back in a fat ponytail, “you don’t understand how mind-blowing it is that someone like you didn’t date during the best years of your life because you were stuck on someone like me. I am never going to get over that ego trip.”
Nyssa started chuckling against Ilan’s chest until he stopped her by covering her lips with his. She sighed against his mouth as a rush of memories flooded her brain. It was like tasting her favourite ice cream as a kid all over again after years of going without, and she wanted more.
Her body remembered as well, which she figured out when her hands travelled up Ilan’s t-shirt sleeves and stroked his biceps ostensibly on their own.
“No,” he broke away, visibly chagrined.
“No? But you kissed me.” Ilan gave a small chuckle.
“And I shouldn’t have. I mean, that’s what I came here to do, to tell you that I’m yours if you’re still interested. But we can’t go further tonight, Nyss. You’re too plastered for this.”
“I am not!” she protested. “I’m Irish and there’s no such thing as ‘too plastered!'” She fumbled with Ilan’s jeans button and he let her try to unzip him, but held her hands in his after a minute of failed attempts.
“You would have gotten my pants off by now if you weren’t too plastered,” he reasoned. “So not tonight.” He smiled at Nyssa’s frown and made her a counter-offer. “But I did bring an overnight bag just in case. I’ve got the next two weeks off anyway and you’re definitely not going to work tomorrow. Let me stay and take care of you in case you’re not well in the morning.”
“Just watch, I’ll be fine,” she glared at him and walked toward the door to get linens for the guest bedroom, slamming her shoulder into the doorframe on her way out. “I’m fine!” she averred while holding her arm. Ilan winced but followed her upstairs with a small smirk.
He gathered at about 10 a.m. the next day when he was returning from the grocery store that she was definitely not fine. When he opened her bedroom door a crack, Nyssa was still lying under the covers but squinting.
“So you’re Irish, huh?” he asked. She tucked back under her blanket like a tortoise recoiling within its shell until all he could see was a mop of blonde curls.
“I’m not even 30 yet and I can no longer handle three beers,” she whined from her hiding place. Ilan sat down on the edge of the bed and twirled a golden lock around his finger, trying to suppress the memory of how Nyssa loved it when he pulled her hair as he took her from behind.
“Uh,” he tried to regain his composure, “are you feeling sick at all? Because if it’s just your head that’s pounding, I have some dry toast and avocados downstairs.” Nyssa peeked out from under her comforter, the corners of her mouth hinting upward.
“Avocado toast? Don’t you know that’s the main reason people our age can’t pay off their student loans?”
All Ilan wanted to do was crawl into her bed with her and hold her, no groping or kissing required. But anything that happened between them was going to have to be on Nyssa’s schedule. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was callous enough to jump from Priya’s bed to hers. A half-hour later, he was hollowing out an avocado when Nyssa made his spoon slip.
“In another universe, you literally would have been tying the knot right now, wouldn’t you?” she asked. Ilan looked at the time and nodded with mixed emotions swirling inside of him.
“You’re right. I would have been tying Priya’s marriage necklace around her neck.” He paused. “And a noose around my own.”
“What happened, Ilan?” she finally asked. “I mean, ‘we grew apart’ doesn’t cut it when you’ve been together for six years and almost made it to the altar.” All he could do was give a weak shrug, not knowing the answer, himself.
“She turned into a bridezilla, I guess?” he offered as he smeared the avocado flesh on a crusty piece of bread and shook some salt and pepper over it. “I feel like an idiot, to be honest. Like, how could I have so poorly deciphered her character that I missed any and all clues before I proposed?”
“Big life changes do things to people,” Nyssa said, her stomach feeling a little more settled as she took a bite out of a second slice of toast. “And I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about you.” Ilan threw her a quizzical look.
“When you were about to make her your family, you started looking deeper at how she would treat your other family members, right? You started noticing how much of a partner she was to you; whether you felt like she was on your team. And I’d wager you were doing that every time you saw or talked with her without even realising it.”
Ilan thought back and it hit him like a truck. He only started to see Priya for who she really was when shit got real.
“Before that, you were together and you probably thought about marrying her, but you hadn’t put down a deposit yet,” Nyssa continued, feeling more like herself. What’s in this avocado? she wondered as she glanced at the toast in her hand that was somehow making her feel more awake than coffee ever did. Maybe I need to switch from booze to more fruit.
“But you thought ahead,” Ilan said when she had another bite in her mouth. “You didn’t want to start anything with me even when we were just friends because you were thinking all the way ahead to if and when I’d meet your family.”
“Well, yee-ahh,” Nyssa replied with a slight roll in her eye. “Most women are in the habit of thinking ahead, but my forethought was on crack for most of my life. You saw one percent of what my family was like when you encountered my uncle. I didn’t put it past my parents to have a Black or brown boyfriend killed.”
“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Ilan countered. Nyssa stared at him in silence, then took another bite without breaking eye contact until he cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, uh, anyway, do you still keep in touch with your parents?”
“My dad died a few months ago, I don’t know when,” she answered with a dispassion that almost chilled Ilan, “and my brothers keep up with my mom’s rants on social media. They also went no-contact when they were able to.”
“Nyss, I can’t believe how you must have struggled all that time,” Ilan said, incredulous. He was only now beginning to see the layers of stone she’d built around herself just to emotionally survive. It wasn’t just me. She had to think through maintaining a relationship with every friend she ever had if it meant they’d come into contact with those monsters.
“Therapy helped,” she responded as though it were nothing. “But by that time, it was too late for a lot of things. You were already with Priya and I couldn’t shake that regret of not cutting my parents off earlier.” A stillness fell over the kitchen and Nyssa briefly wondered if she overshared. “Think it’s a good idea for me to have a coffee?” she tried to pivot.
“I have something better,” Ilan smiled. “Ever had coconut water? Every time we went back to Sri Lanka, I ended up sick the first week. It wasn’t the food; it was my stomach not being able to handle the time zone shift. So I drank this.” He took out a small carton from the fridge and gently shook it. “I mean, I was lucky enough to drink it straight from the coconut, but two of these will rehydrate you for the day.”
The mildly sweet, cloudy water was unlike anything Nyssa had ever tasted. She looked at Ilan and tried to put the flavour into words.
“Nature’s original flat ginger ale,” he smiled.
“That’s sort of what it’s like, but way less sweet!” she took another long slurp and reveled in the fact it was only Friday morning. They had another two-and-a-half days ahead of them to just do nothing together.
A movie marathon, a walk in the park, and almost two meals later, it struck Nyssa that they’d spent most of the day in silence. But it was a warm, comfortable silence that didn’t require anything of them than to just exist. She smiled to herself while they were prepping dinner at how she’d been desperate to get Ilan in bed just 24 hours ago.
“What’s the grin about?” he asked from the stove.
“Nothing,” she grinned wider. “Just thinking about how wrong it would have been for us to have sex yesterday.”
“Ouch.”
“No, I mean,” Nyssa full-on started laughing, “I mean, today was so peaceful and wonderful. We wouldn’t have had this day if you hadn’t–” she abruptly stopped. “Wait a second. You skipped out on your wedding today and we didn’t hear a peep out of your phone since you got here?”
“Oh, right,” Ilan said casually. “I turned it off after I broke up with Priya last night and I didn’t switch it back on. It’s in my bag somewhere.”
“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Nyssa said sarcastically. “Ilan! Check your phone! How can you go all this time without even worrying a little about what’s gone on in the last day?” Ilan lowered the heat on the stove and stepped over to the sink where she was washing dishes.
“Because I don’t need to be concerned with anything outside this kitchen right now,” he said with a kiss to her forehead. When it hit him how flippant he was coming off, he tried to backtrack.
“I mean, I am mourning the relationship and how it took overwhelming changes for me to recognise Priya and I were never right for each other. But kinda like what you said, I’ve been slowly withdrawing for the last six months.” He winced.
“I know I sound like an asshole, but it wasn’t a surprise for me. I’m here because I feel like I wanted to compensate for losing out on being with you, when this is where I should have been all along.” Ilan was thinking out loud at this point, faced with the reminder that there was a world outside Nyssa’s house that he’d left to its own fallout.
“But you’re right,” he conceded. “Just because the relationship was dying for me doesn’t mean it was for Priya, no matter how unfair I thought she’s been since we got engaged. And it doesn’t mean my parents aren’t dealing with blowback even though I told them to turn off their phones too.”
“I’ll finish dinner, you sit there and entertain me with the worst texts people sent you,” Nyssa said as Ilan went to fetch his phone.
“Here’s one,” he said a few minutes later after rejecting an incoming call. “You are surely going to hell for what you have done today,” he read. “It’s from my uncle.”
“Check your voicemail,” Nyssa prompted him as she started to rinse the dishes, trying to fight off her laughter. “What if your mom needs something?” The knowledge of Nyssa’s fraught relationship with her own mother made it more clear to Ilan why she’d taken so well to his mom.
“She told me before I left Scarborough she wants to share another pumpkin spice latte with you,” he murmured while punching in his password.
“You know she’s allowed to buy them on her own without me there,” Nyssa turned around in surprise.
“I told her that, but she wants to share one with you.” Nyssa turned back to the sink and dropped her head a bit. When she touched her t-shirt sleeve to her face, Ilan pretended not to notice.
It was expected that his phone wouldn’t hold more than three voice messages. What was perplexing was that two were from his cousins congratulating him on cancelling the wedding, and the third was from his father confirming that the damage from them taking out a second mortgage wouldn’t be that bad, even after losing the deposit from the wedding hall.
“This is weird,” Ilan said. “There’s nothing here from anyone on Priya’s side. I thought I’d have no shortage of hexes put on me by now.”
“No one knows where I live, right?” Nyssa asked while drying her hands. She came over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair.
“Not even my parents,” Ilan said, phoning his father back. “But they know I’m here.” He put the phone on speaker when his dad picked up, immediately asking whether everything was alright. Nyssa tried to follow the conversation from Ilan’s English side of it, as well as the expressions that danced across his face at the elder man’s Tamil responses.
“You said that?” Ilan finally exclaimed. “Those exact words? Does Amma even know how to use social media?” Then he nodded knowingly. “Okay. Maybe I’ll stay here for a couple more days.” He paused as Jeganathan said something short but sounding like it was a term of endearment. “I love you too, Appa,” Ilan said. “Thank you. And call me right away if anyone even so much as texts you.”
“The biggest question I have is what the purpose was of putting the phone on speaker,” Nyssa pursed her lips in a wry smile. Ilan looked over as if he hadn’t realised what he’d done.
“Oh,” he shook his head. “Sorry, that was silly,” he walked back to the stove and gave their dinner a final stir. “That’s just what I always do if we’re talking to family. I mean–”
“It’s okay, I was just ribbing you,” Nyssa said, wrapping her arms around his waist. Deep down, she was touched at the words he’d just uttered. “But it sounds like there’s no crisis, huh?”
“Yeah, no!” Ilan remembered. “Priya told her parents about our split right after she and I spoke, and then she and her whole family–like 20 people, aunts, cousins, uncles–all came over to my parents’ place.” Nyssa’s eyes bugged out in alarm.
“But my sister was there and she just handed all of them their asses! After they threatened to drag our name in the community, she asked them whether anyone knew how Priya strongarmed my mom and dad into re-mortgaging their house because she’d let wedding expenses get out of hand.”
“Priya did what now??” Nyssa said in a low whisper.
“I’m not entirely absolved of fault having broken up with her the way I did,” Ilan said. “But I was an asshole to refuse to see the signs and break up with her earlier. That mortgage thing was a huge betrayal but there were other things she did that showed she either thought she was better than my parents, or didn’t really care about them either way.
“I was committed to being a good son-in-law, and I tried to be friends with her parents as soon as we were exclusive. They’re also really decent people. Which is why they were humiliated that their daughter conveniently left out this piece of information that came out in front of their extended family.”
“I’ll bet,” Nyssa said. “So is this a regular thing, to do confrontations with an entourage in tow?”
“It is with Tamil people in Scarborough,” Ilan laughed, holding her tight. “Right after Anandi brought out the mortgage papers as proof, she said if anyone in their family even accidentally harassed anyone in ours, my mom was going to put the receipts on social media. And that we would keep it quiet if they did.”
“So nobody talks, everybody walks?” Nyssa laughed. “I guess no one sent your uncle the memo if he thinks you’re going straight to hell.”
“You know, the food’s still way too hot,” Ilan said softly as he put his hands to her face. “And I’m pretty sure you’re sober now.” Hearing his voice drop spurred a familiar ache between Nyssa’s legs–that is, until he dropped his arms to his sides. “But then again, it usually takes a full day for a hango–”
She cut him off with a crushing kiss that backed him up toward the kitchen counter and then pinned him against it. But after the initial three seconds of blood rushing to her head, she pulled back.
“No,” she reconsidered out loud. Ilan took a step to the side, wanting to give her space. “This is how we did things the last time we were together, and this is how we always did things,” Nyssa said pensively. “That’s not how I want it to be with you from now on.”
Ilan waited for her to say something more, confused as to whether she wanted him to touch her or not. But then she took his hand and tugged on his fingers while turning toward the staircase. Nyssa closed her bedroom door once they were both in her room and then stood before Ilan, wordlessly tracing her thumbs along his jaw.
She then brushed her lips against his as though she was testing out whether he was really there. When Nyssa’s lips gently pinched Ilan’s, he felt confident enough to slip his tongue into her mouth just for a second.
Her soft moan against his mouth made him harden partway but he willed himself to let her keep leading him. Nyssa then turned her face downward and yanked his t-shirt out of his jeans after looking into his eyes with a small smile. She kept drinking in his kisses, pausing only for a second when she felt him lifting her shirt over her head.
She couldn’t help but speed up a bit, having been forced to merely look but not touch for the better part of a decade. Ilan’s mouth became hungrier as well, especially when he unhooked her bra and pulled her bare chest up against his.
Without breaking his stranglehold on her mouth, he gently pushed her yoga pants and panties down past her hips, and then allowed her to take off his jeans.
“Good, you are sober now,” he murmured just before she pushed down his boxer-briefs and his cock sprang up against her stomach. Nyssa giggled, then just reveled in the moment and let her eyes wander over her lover’s umber skin from top to bottom. She laid her palms flat across his shoulders just before hugging him–a surprisingly chaste, innocent gesture considering they were both completely naked.
“I’m so sorry all of this happened between us,” she said, trying to fit every curve of her body against every crevice of his.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Ilan told her, kissing the freckles on her cheekbone. “It was just bad timing.” He kissed her mouth once, then again before touching his nose to hers. “I guess it was always supposed to be you, though.”
Nyssa gave him one last hug, then to his surprise stepped away and gently shoved him backward onto her bed. Ilan laughed, expecting her to curl herself into his arms. Instead, his breath caught in his throat when he felt her cheek against his inner thigh.
He exhaled with the faintest yelp as she wrapped her lips around his tip and then gently sucked before flicking him with her tongue. Then another inch, and the same flick but a touch rougher. Another couple of inches and Nyssa’s tongue spinning circles around his cock made Ilan think he was going to pass out.
“Nyss,” he breathed when she grasped his shaft with one hand and gently pressed on his perineum with two fingers from the other hand. He didn’t know why her touch was so overwhelming when he’d felt all this with her before. It was just surreal how her mouth on his body was somehow new all over again.
Nyssa tightened her grip at his shaft and sucked harder, but Ilan couldn’t have this be over before it even began for her. He gently pushed against her shoulders and waited until she lifted her head, moving her unruly curls off her face. Then he gripped the sides of her arms and yanked her up and beside him on the bed.
She squealed in delight at his swiftness, then squealed a little lower when she saw him scrambling to wrench her legs apart. Unlike her, Ilan wasn’t interested in starting slow.
As he cupped her butt in each of his palms and deftly licked her wetness, Nyssa knew she wouldn’t need him there for long. When his tongue darted against the underside of her clit, Nyssa’s mouth hung open in silent cries and her hands grasped her pillowcase as if she were about to float off the bed.
Finally, Ilan had mercy on her and gently locked his lips around her bud with light licks that gradually grew more and more intense.
“Ilaaaaan,” Nyssa tossed her head to the side, unable to stop her ankles from snaking themselves around the back of his neck. The warmth was building up in her abdomen, and soon transformed into a ticklish buzz that she knew was going to make her fall apart beneath Ilan’s tongue in a matter of seconds.
“Please don’t stop…” she gasped as he slowly dragged his tongue across her clit, then flicked it. Nyssa’s hips writhed and lifted themselves off the bed as she whimpered through the most sublime climax she’d ever felt. The way he teased her with his mouth was even better than she remembered.
Ilan grinned as he scooched up toward her heaving chest and lovingly sucked her stiff, pink nipple. Nyssa groaned again and buried her fingers in his thick black hair, her limbs still shaking. All she knew as she watched him roll on a condom was that she desperately needed him to fill her and she wasn’t above begging.
Before she could get a word out, Ilan was back on the bed, softly kissing her collarbone and then her neck. When he turned her to her side and spooned her, his cock poked against the back of her thigh.
“I loved it when we did it like this,” Nyssa whispered. The sun had fully set since they first entered her room, and Ilan relished the outline of her body in the dim light of dusk.
“I know,” he replied while gently tugging on her earlobe with his lips. “I loved it too.” His mouth traveled up the curve of her neck while his hand cupped her breast and his thumb rolled across her nipple. Nyssa writhed, which only served to push Ilan’s cock between her thighs. He gripped her knee and pulled it back over his, then lined himself up.
Nyssa shoved her curls up and out of his face, holding on tight to his hand on her breast and anticipating that first magical push. She never felt safer than when she was tucked into him like this.
“Ready, sweetie?” Ilan asked, dropping a kiss on her cheek as she turned her face back toward him. Her sky-blue eyes glowed in the dark when she widened them at him and nodded. He slid his free hand down to clutch her hip and pressed his way inside her, loving her every whimper until he was in all the way.
The strawberry scent of Nyssa’s hair took Ilan back in time, not to mention how she involuntary tightened around his shaft.
“Nyss, you’re making me crazy,” he muttered into her curls. Then he remembered she hadn’t been in a man’s arms since she’d been in his over a half-decade ago. Okay, honey, I’m going to devastate you now.
It only took a few slow thrusts before he could feel the ridges form against her front wall, and heard her nails scratching in desperation on the sheets.
“More, Ilan,” she pleaded. To her surprise, his hips slowed to a halt and his fingers resumed twisting her nipples between them. “What… what are you doing?” she gasped, trying to turn around.
“Not yet,” he murmured, catching her lips between his. A few more kisses with his hands on her chest had her legs squirming. When he felt her kissing him back without moving around so much, he resumed his leisurely thrusts.
Nyssa moaned against his mouth and turned forward again, anticipating the moment he would eventually speed up. But he didn’t, instead nestling himself deep inside her while devouring the back of her neck.
“Ilan, you’re killing me here!” she exclaimed, aggravated he was denying her this after she’d waited so long for him. All she got in response was a small chuckle, through which she could feel his smile against her skin. Then, Ilan reached behind, grabbed the extra pillow near the headboard, and then shoved it between Nyssa’s knees in one fluid motion.
The hand on her hip slid down to her clit and deliberately, rhythmically stroked it until Ilan heard the timbre of the moan he was waiting for. He waited until Nyssa gripped her sheets again and let out little squeals, then drove himself inside her and matched the movements of his dancing fingers.