Page 141 of The Encore’s Crown

Her eyes meet mine. For just a moment, neither of us looks away. Then we both do. Radhika places the crochet beside her and stands. She crosses the room and stops in front of my chair. Her fingers touch my face first, tracing the edge of my cheek as though checking whether I’m still the same man beneath the years. Then she takes my injured hand. She lifts it, inspecting the swelling carefully.

“I’ve had worse,” I say, but before I can make another joke, she lifts my hand and presses a gentle kiss over the injured knuckles.

My chest aches with the simple beauty of the gesture. I look up at her.

“I’m sorry for bringing all this shit back up.”

I close my fingers around hers.

“No,” she says. “You owed me that apology.”

“I did.”

"I'm glad you finally gave it.”

She keeps hold of my hand.

“I’ve had a wonderful time seeing all of you again,” she says. “Being twenty-two for a little while.”

I pull a face.

“I don’t know if I want to be twenty-four again. I was a disaster.”

“True.” Her smile is sad. “But a beautiful one. I wouldn't trade it.” Her gaze lowers to our joined hands. “You taught me many things."

She cups my face with her other hand.

“I think we both know you have someone you should go see.”

Pain moves across both our faces. There's no hiding it now. We both nod.

“You deserve the world, Radhika.” My voice catches around her name. “I hope you find someone who gives it to you.”

Her thumb brushes my cheek. She bends closer.

“I hope Lord Krishna guides you toward peace,” she whispers. “And that one day, you stop mistaking pain for proof that you're alive.”

Then she kisses my forehead.

Not like a lover trying to hold on, but like a blessing. Her thumb presses gently between my brows, in the same place I watched her mother and aunts mark with color during Holi. A tilak laid over the third eye, meant for blessing, clarity, protection. Back then, I’d stood among her family and hoped I might one day belong there. Now Radhika holds her thumb there for one quiet second, as though asking whatever wisdom exists inside me to finally wake the fuck up.

She pulls away. Neither of us says anything. Radhika returns to the sofa and gathers her crochet into her lap. I stand and pick up my jacket.

Then, to my surprise, she says, “Don’t be a stranger, Kiri.”

I turn. She’s already working the hook through another loop, and her eyes remain on the yarn.

“I'd like to see all of you again before another ten years pass.”

A smile pulls at my mouth.

“As it stands, you may have to visit me in prison. Who knows what Julian fucking Mercer plans to do.”

Radhika glances over.

“I wouldn't worry too much about Julian.”

I raise an eyebrow. She pauses her work to look at me.