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“I’ll accept your terms, for now,” he replied coolly. “But once Neil is more comfortable with me, we’ll revisit this condition.”
She bit her lower lip. His body heated, and his eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth. Seeing where his attention was, she plopped it out of her mouth.
He changed the subject. “What does Neil know about me?”
It annoyed him that even though he was rather hurt and upset with her, his body still reacted to her like a moth to a flame.
“He only knows your name and that you died in an accident before he was born. He doesn’t know what happened in Shimla or that we even lived there. We never told him about it. He thinks we lived in Mumbai and then moved to Dubai before he was born.”
“Fuck!”
“No abusing, please,” she scolded. “He’s quite impressionable.”
She backed away, rounded a corner, and disappeared from his sight. Anticipation buzzed through his veins. Suddenly, he was nervous. He was going to meet his son for the first time. What if he bungled it up? What if his son didn’t like him?
He ran a finger up and down his jaw, thinking, worrying. Each minute that ticked by felt like an hour. He forced himself to look around Avantika’s house, do anything to reduce the anxiety squeezing his chest.
Her house was a vibrant and modern mix of color. Dark grey sofas, colorful cushions, tall lamps, and lights strategically placed on tables and at corners created the perfect setup. Plain beige wallpaper lined the walls, with accessories all in gold, chrome and black. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows displayed fabulous nighttime views of the Burj Khalifa. The city of Dubai lay in a twinkling blanket around it. He spun around slowly, his eyes resting on a long side table where dozens of black and white framed photos were arranged.
He moved closer. Pictures of Neil as a baby, as a toddler, crawling, walking, riding a bike, playing with a ball, and one with him hugging Avantika. There were more with Aaryan and Vihaan holding a little Neil in between them, Shaurya and Neil standing arm in arm, Neil and Avantika in ski gear… There were so many pictures. And all of them showed that his son had been loved, protected, and cared for. Dev lifted a photo of Neil dressed in a football jersey, holding a ball in his hand. His eyes moistened. God! He’d missed so much of his boy’s life.
He blinked back the unshed tears, smoothing his expression as he heard the sound of a door shutting. Muted voices reached his ears. They grew louder with each breath he took.
“Mom, why did I have to change? Who am I meeting?”
“You’ll see in just a moment.”
Avantika came into view. He barely had a moment to register that she was looking anxious, when Neil appeared behind her.
His heart soared.
Neil stared at him for a long beat before he approached him slowly.
His son scraped his fingers down his jaw, and Dev’s breath hitched.
Neil held his hand out. “Hello. Do I know you? You look…um…familiar.”
His heart was bursting to pull Neil to his chest and hold him close, but he held that impulse back. Instead, he took his son’s hand in his.
“Neil Rajpoot,” Neil said, shaking his hand.
Dev’s throat clogged. Luthra, not Rajpoot. He was Neil Luthra. He was his son.
He exhaled a raspy breath. “Dev Luthra.”
Neil’s eyes widened, and Dev knew the exact moment he made the connection. He dropped Dev’s hand and turned to his mother.
“Mom, this man has the exact same name as my father,” Neil exclaimed.
“Neil,” Avantika spoke cautiously, “Dev is your father.”
“What?” Neil’s shocked gaze alternated from Dev to Avantika and back at Dev. “I don’t understand, Mom. I thought you said…”
“She thought I was dead,” Dev interjected.
“But you’re a…alive!”
Avantika clasped Neil’s arm. “While I was in London, I met Dev again and realized that what I’d thought about him and perhaps whatever I’d believed to be true could be wrong.”
