I shake my head. “No. I’m sorry. I know now it wasn’t the right thing to do. It’s only hurt me in the long run.”
Abruptly, Pah turns and stalks past me into his office, slamming the door behind him. I’m so shocked, I can only stare. I hear him pacing on the hard wood floor on the other side of the door, then suddenly he shouts, “What did you to do my son, Sunnee?”
My mouth falls open and I forget to breathe.
“The truth! Rama just told me everything, and as God is my witness, this is your only chance to have your say.” There’s a long pause, and then Pah shouts a string of obscenities, and I hear something hitthe wall and clatter to the floor just before an unearthly shout rips from his throat. Staggering back, I fall onto the couch.
For several long moments, the only sound in the room is the ticking of the clock on the mantel. Then the office door opens and my father walks out, his tie loosened around his neck and fists clenched.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, staring at him in horror. I’ve never seen my father look like that.
When he turns to me with a tortured gaze, he looks nothing like Sunnee. “There’s no reason to be sorry, Rama.” Slowly relaxing his hands, he clears his throat. “I wish you had been able to tell me this a long time ago, but I understand why you didn’t.”
I want to ask him what Aunt Sunnee said to him on the phone just now, but I can’t bring myself to do it. “I-I tried to go back to the internship,” I say instead. “I just couldn’t keep my mind on what I was doing. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, son.” Coming to stand beside me, he rests his hand on my shoulder. I’m so surprised, I can only sit rigidly on the couch. Tentatively, he asks, “Is this why you became so quiet over the years? You used to enjoy doing things with me. Then you suddenly stopped. I thought it was just part of becoming a teenager.”
“I don’t think you realize how strong the resemblance is between you and Aunt Sunnee,” I say miserably.
Sounding choked, my father replies, “Rama, I’m going to get you the help you need.”
I can only nod as he bends and wraps his arms around me in the first hug I’ve had from him since I was a kid.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Pravat
It’s past midnight when Rama slips into my apartment using the key I gave him before he left.
“Are you okay?” I ask from the bed.
“Yeah. Sorry, I tried to be quiet.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
Rustling noises tell me he’s getting out of his clothes, and then the bed dips, and I turn on my side to face him.
“How did it go?” I ask.
Rama’s quiet for a moment, and I think maybe I shouldn’t have asked. But then he releases a long breath and says, “It was hard to get the words out, but after I did, I felt the greatest sense of relief. And Pah didn’t react at all the way I thought he would. He didn’t get angry at me. He went into his office and closed the door. I heard him on thephone yelling at his sister, and then he threw his phone. He probably broke it.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say.
“I guess I shouldn’t be, but I am. They were very close growing up.”
“You’re his son, and she hurt you. Nothing trumps that.”
Rama seems to think about that for a moment before speaking again. “The hardest part was telling him that what she did is the reason our relationship deteriorated over the years. I felt bad about it because it wasn’t his fault. But every time I looked at him, I saw her. She took him away from me.” His face hardens. “I hate her for that.”
There’s nothing I can do to help him other than to listen. Although he seems much more at peace than he did when he left earlier, I’m certain he has a lot to sift through after revealing his secret to his father.
“He didn’t want me to leave tonight, but I told him I couldn’t handle being there right now. I also told him I don’t want to work for him, although that has nothing to do with this.”
“What did he say?” I ask.
“I think he couldn’t say much, considering. I guess he’s worried about me. It’s weird. I was so sure he’d be angry.” He sighs. “After I talked to Pah, I called Pete. I felt like I owed him an explanation. Telling him about our aunt was almost as rough as telling my father.”
“How did he take it?” I ask.
“Not well,” Rama says, sadness softening his features before he snaps out of it and looks at me. “It’s late, and I’m keeping you up. I’m sorry.”