She had never been able to explain it, but he had.
“Love,” Jon had pronounced when she explained the odd physical phenomenon to him several years ago. “You’re in love with me.” He thumped his chest, a wide grin on his face, but the stunned expression in his eyes gave way to awe as he tilted her face up for their first kiss.
Perhaps love was as magical for him as it was for her.
Whatever it was, it had kept them together for six years, beginning with their first date after the salsa dance class he taught when he was a freshman and she a junior at Johns Hopkins. It sustained them even after he graduated and returned to Westchester to open an alternative health center. The startup flourished into one of Westchester’s fastest growing businesses, employing several chiropractors, massage therapists, and nutritionists. It was hard for Jon to get away, and her full days at medical school were no less challenging, but it made their daily calls and their occasional weekend get-togethers all the more precious.
She would have looked forward to the upcoming week with undiluted joy if it were just Jon. But as it was—
Dread crept like a cloud across the horizon, dimming the light of the sun. Her parents would be arriving tomorrow. Not ready. I’m not ready for this.
Panic closed a fist around her throat. For six years, she had known that this moment would come, but she had tried not to think about it. The problem was too tangled, too messy, and it hadn’t made sense to unravel the Gordian Knot when time and chance might have solved the problem.
Well, they hadn’t, and now she would have to face up to the fact that she had procrastinated on a truly critical conversation. “Hi, Mom and Dad. I’d like you to meet Jon Seifer. We’ve been dating for six years.”
There was no possible scenario, not in a million alternate worlds, where that conversation would end well. If her parents did not flip out, Jon would. And she would deserve it.
Why on Earth did I put it off for so long?
At that moment, their waitress appeared with Jon’s order of Captain Crunch French Toast, served regardless of day or night, and Anjali’s vegetarian omelet. She chuckled at the bliss transforming his face when he took his first bite of French toast. “Ah, I’ve missed this too,” he said. “Nothing like it anywhere in Westchester, especially not for dinner.”
“For an alternative health nut, you eat highly questionable food.”
“Chiropractic and massage therapy does not make me an expert in vegan, free-ranging, gluten-free, pesticide-free, pleasure-free meals.” He winked at her.
The music pounding through the café changed into a 80s hit, and Anjali glanced at the jukebox, her gaze flicking over the bright colors and funky artwork displayed on white brick walls. “Do you know that we’re ordering the exact same thing we did on our first date?”
“Yeah. It was pretty magical.”
“Is that why we always come here when you visit me?”
“Nah, it’s because I really like the Captain Crunch French Toast.” He flinched and grinned when she tossed a balled-up napkin at his head. “You wore a white blouse that made you look like a sheepherder. You know, wide collar, almost off-shoulder, with lots of ruffles.”
She had that blouse still, but— “Sheepherder? Really? I like that blouse.”
“I do, too.” Jon’s grin widened into a leer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Lots of happy memories taking it off.”
Anjali giggled. She stared at Jon as he cut his French toast into smaller squares and drenched them with maple syrup before piling on a mountain of whipped cream. His golden blond hair and blue eyes gave him the look of a cherub who had accidentally grown up. The impish gleam in his eyes and the wicked slant of his grin confirmed it.
His hands, however—his fingers long and strong, nails cut short—were heavenly, as she well knew. She had spent countless hours beneath them as he massaged oil into her skin and coaxed the knots in her back into supple relaxation. She often drifted to sleep, lulled by the assurance of his presence as much as by the soft background music of harps and cellos. When it was just the two of them, it was easy to shut out the world she had come from, the world she had hoped to leave behind.
The world that was about to catch up with her.
Anjali swallowed hard through the lump in her throat. I put it off because I never imagined we would last as long as we did. Well, the moment of reckoning had come. Time to face up to the fact that I’ve been a cowardly little chicken. “Uh, Jon…”
He swallowed a slice of French toast. “What time do your parents get in from London?”
She choked on the answer even though his question gave her the opening she wanted.
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll be picking them up from BWI.”
“Great. Do you want me to come by during the day?”
“Uh, I think they’ll want to rest after their long flight. Maybe later?” Damn it, I’m still doing it. Pushing off the confrontation.
“I’d like to take them out to dinner.”
“I’ve already told them that I’m taking them out to dinner.”
A slight furrow formed between Jon’s eyes. “And not me?”
Anjali’s fingers drummed a nervous rhythm on the table. “I think their first dinner here should be just…you know, family. We might have things to catch up on.”
The furrow deepened. “Are things all right with them?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t they be?”
“I don’t know. You put me off when they came to the U.S. four years ago for your undergrad graduation ceremony. You put me off again two years ago when my mom offered to pay for my ticket to London as a graduation present.”
“We were both so busy. I
