“It’s just easier that way!” she declared.
Dev stopped and slowly turned around. “Easier?”
“No, that isn’t true. It’s not easier.” Tina dipped her head and raked her hands through her hair. She was used to carrying the weight of others—her mother, her sisters—but this time she didn’t have the strength. She needed to rely on someone else but no one was there to help. Dev’s absence had felt like a dismissal. A betrayal. She didn’t want to put herself in that position again.
But as she looked at the hurt and disappointment in Dev’s eyes, she realized she was guilty of the same thing she had accused him of. How many times had he reached for her, searching for solace, only to be rejected? She didn’t know. She had been too focused on her own pain. How often had she believed that her grief was stronger, more powerful, because she was the one who had carried the baby?
“It’s my fault we didn’t have a chance to grieve together.” She knew now that Dev hadn’t been indifferent. He mourned differently. Silently. “I wanted to handle it alone and I couldn’t.”
“You got the help you needed,” he reminded her. “I know that was a difficult decision for you, but you did it. You don’t need my help anymore.”
“That’s not true.” Her voice wobbled and she swallowed hard. She needed his help and he needed hers. “I want you to come with me to the charity luncheon.”
His sigh was low and deep. “Tina...”
She raised a shaky hand to stop him. “I thought I could do this on my own, but I can’t. I’ve been walking in circles trying to gather up enough courage to face this luncheon.”
“You won’t fall apart, jaan,” Dev said softly.
He was refusing her offer. Tina took a shallow breath as her chest ached with disappointment. She shouldn’t be surprised. She hadn’t been there for him in the beginning and she kept shutting him out.
“You’re right. I won’t,” she said as she walked past him. “But one of these days, I hope we can honor our son together. Maybe it’s the wrong charity for you. The wrong venue. The wrong time—”
He grabbed her arm and she lurched to a stop. Tina looked down at his large fingers encircling her wrist. She glanced up and stared at the shadows and deep lines in his face.
“I’m still angry that our son didn’t get a chance. So damn angry,” Dev admitted. “You may want to share how you feel with a crowd of strangers, but I’m not ready for the world to witness my pain.”
Tina pressed her lips together and nodded. She hadn’t considered that Dev was at a different stage of grief and loss. While she’d had months to focus on her bereavement, Dev had been struggling on his own.
“But I will go to this charity luncheon with you.” His voice was gravelly. “Because you are the only person I want to grieve with. If this is how you want to mourn, I will be there for you.”
Tina’s lips trembled as her throat ached with emotions. She closed her eyes before the tears started to fall. “And I’ll be there for you, Dev.” She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “No matter what. I promise.”
* * *
Late one afternoon, Dev stood at the door of Tina’s dance studio. He remained quiet, careful not to disturb Tina as she swayed to bhangra music. When he had returned from America without her, he hadn’t entered this room. As the days had become weeks, he hadn’t approached this wing of the house. He’d known it would be cold and empty. The plain room didn’t hold her spirit or reflect her personality.