He shook his head, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in.
Keep looking at Nanamma. This is safe. Nanamma is safe,he coached himself, still a little taken aback by the coincidence of seeing a woman he had never expected to.
“Were you two in some type of relationship, meeting late at night?” Nanamma questioned, her features etched with suspicion.
“No!” they exclaimed simultaneously, shaking their heads in unison as though they were a pair of school-going children who had colluded together to lie to their parents about the same incident.
Chitra was confused by the rapid shift in the atmosphere. They’d gone from yelling to awkward staring and silence within seconds. The Aditi she knew was never silent. The Rian she knew was never awkward.
Aditi cleared her throat when the wait for someone to speak got too long. “I met him once, a few months ago. When I was in Velas. I was. . .”
“It was nothing,” Rian interrupted. He strode towards his grandmother and put an arm over her shoulder, rounding out to look at the young woman again. “She was going down the wrong road and I corrected her. Isn’t that right?” He raised a single brow, a quiet but clear indication that told her to keep the discussion of that night to herself.
Aditi’s gaze darted between grandmother and grandson, no longer sure what she was allowed to say.
“So, you don’t know each other?” Chitra clarified.
“We kinda know each other,” Aditi admitted, at the same time as Rian said, “I don’t know her at all.”
“I’m Dr. Aditi Krishnan. See?” she replied with a little tilt of her head. “It’s so easy. Now we can get to know each other.”
Rian peered at her, not sure what to make of her offer. Either she was truly friendly or was pretending to be so. Regardless, getting to know each other was not part of his plan.
He spun towards Nanamma, questioning her instead. “What is she doing here?”
“I told you we’re hosting a guest for a few months. How come you’re backso soon?”
“Restaurant troubles,” he answered carelessly, sliding a sideways glance at the woman who stood near the couches, listening to their conversation with an unabashedly curious gaze. He leaned in towards his grandmother, gesturing to Aditi with a jab of his thumb. “I thought it was a boy. You kept saying you’re bringing home Adi.”
Nanamma nodded. “That’s her name. Aditi.”
“No, you said Adi. Adi is a boy's name. This,” he pointed to the person across from him, “is a girl.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but I’m a woman,” Aditi clarified, completely unfazed by the look of incredulity he shot her way. He wasn’t sure that it was a relevant correction but apparently she thought differently. “My family and friends call me Adi,” she continued, hoping that an explanation would resolve whatever frustration he had with her name. “Adi. Aditi. Same same.”
“See?” Nanamma chimed in, smiling warmly at Aditi before turning towards him again. “Same same.”
“No. Not same same,” he mocked.
“The ending of that name makes a huge difference. Adi sounded like a chill dude whom I could have a beer with,” he explained, feeling no shame for lying despite the fact that he had fully expected to avoid said chill dude. “Aditi is. . .” He trailed off, at a loss for words, waving one hand in the air uselessly when his eyes met hers. She smiled. The barest tilt of her lips and he lost track of whatever he’d wanted to say.
“I can have a beer with you,” she offered sweetly. “I don’t enjoy the taste, but I could do it if it's that important.”
She glanced from Nanamma to him, shrugging delicately, as though to indicate that she was willing to make this sacrifice for the sake of the greater good.
“Excuse us,” he bit out, holding Nanamma by her shoulders to manoeuvre her down the hall. His bedroom was closest.
“She’s got to go,” he announced as soon as they stepped in.
Nanamma frowned. “Why?”
“Because. . .” He opened his mouth, closing it ineffectually when he couldn’t think of a reason.
Hands on his hips, he tried to maintain a look of surety when really, he had no clue why he was reacting this way. Just that something about her put all his senses on alert. Like it had that night in Velas.
He couldn’t help but remember how easily she’d deduced that he had had unrequited feelings for his friend Kaya, a patient she had just treated, and that he had needed to let it go.
If I were in your place, I’d cut my losses and channel my energy elsewhere.