Chapter 33 Chapter thirty three
AANYA
I woke up on Priya's sofa with Dev's arm around me, early morning light filtering through the curtains. We had fallen asleep sometime around two in the morning, still fully clothed, exhausted from the hospital and the emotional weight of the day.
His phone alarm went off at six. He groaned, reached to silence it, then seemed to register where he was. Who he was holding.
"Morning," I said quietly.
"Morning. I need to go home. Shower, change clothes, get to King's for my eight AM lecture." He shifted, wincing. "Also my back is completely destroyed from sleeping on this sofa. How have you been surviving on this thing?"
"I have no basis for comparison. For all I know, all sofas are this uncomfortable."
He kissed my forehead. "Remind me to introduce you to an actual bed at some point."
The comment sent heat through me despite the early hour and the terrible sleep and the fact that we both probably had morning breath.
"I should go," he said, not moving.
"You should."
"I do not want to."
"I know. But you have responsibilities. Students who need you. A lecture to give. A life that existed before yesterday."
"Life before yesterday seems very far away right now." He sat up, ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up in several directions. "What time do you start at the centre today?"
"Nine. I have intake meetings all morning."
"Can I see you tonight?"
"I would like that."
"My flat? It is small and I sleep on a sofa bed and we would have to navigate around my siblings. But I would like you to see where I actually live. Not just meet me in crisis situations."
"I would like that too."
He kissed me properly then, slow and thorough despite the early hour. When he pulled back, we were both breathing harder.
"Tonight," he said. "Six o'clock. I will text you the address."
"I will be there."
After he left, I lay on the sofa for a few more minutes, trying to process the past twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning I had kissed Dev for the first time. Yesterday afternoon I had started a job I barely knew how to do. Yesterday evening I had met his mother in a hospital bed and been welcomed into his family.
And last night, I had fallen asleep in his arms feeling more at home than I had ever felt in Kensington Palace.
My phone buzzed. Text from my mother.
I stared at it for a long moment before opening.
\[Aanya, I saw the photographs. You and Dr. Marchetti at the hospital. The media is speculating about your relationship. We need to discuss how this looks. Can we talk? Please.\]
Not "how are you." Not "are you all right." Just "how this looks."
I deleted the message without responding.
Priya emerged from her bedroom, looking more awake than I felt. "Was that Dev leaving at six in the morning? Should I be concerned about what happened on my sofa?"
"We fell asleep. Fully clothed. After spending four hours at hospital with his mother."
"His mother all right?"
"They are running more tests today. Something about her blood pressure and concerning markers. Dev is worried but pretending he is not."
"And you met her. First day of your relationship. That is moving fast."
"She fainted at work. It was not exactly planned."
"Still. Meeting the family on day one. That is serious." Priya sat down on the sofa beside me. "How are you doing? With all of this? The job, the relationship, the lawsuit, the family exile?"
"I have no idea. I wake up every morning and for about thirty seconds I forget that my entire life has changed. Then I remember. And it is terrifying. But also... I am happier than I have been in years. Is that strange?"
"No. That is what happens when you actually live instead of just performing living." She studied my face. "You are in love with him."
"I barely know him."
"That is not what I asked."
I thought about last night. About Dev's face when he talked about his mother. About the way he had held my hand in the hospital waiting room. About how he had kissed me in the corridor in front of everyone because he did not care who saw.
"Yes," I said. "I think I am."
"Good. Because he is definitely in love with you. I can tell."
"How?"
"The way he looks at you like you are the only person in the room. The way he sat outside my building in the rain all night waiting for you. The way he immediately brought you to meet his family in a crisis. Men who are not in love do not do those things."
My phone buzzed again. This time, a news alert.
\["Former Princess Spotted at Hospital with Activist Boyfriend: Francesca Marchetti's Health Crisis Raises Questions About Financial Stress"\]
I clicked through to the article. Photographs of Dev and me arriving at St. Thomas's. Speculation about why we were there. Mention of Francesca working multiple cleaning jobs. Questions about whether the Marchetti family was struggling financially. Suggestions that I might be using my former royal connections to help them.
The comments section was predictably brutal.
\["She destroys her family then leeches onto his. Pathetic."\]
\["Poor family probably can't afford his mother's medical bills. Maybe she should have thought of that before encouraging him to attack Crown Estate."\]
\["Anyone else think it's suspicious that she's suddenly dating the guy whose research she validated? Clearly using him for credibility."\]
I closed the article before I could read more.
"Do not read the comments," Priya said. "Nothing good ever comes from reading the comments."
"Too late."
"What did they say?"
"That I am pathetic and leeching and using Dev for credibility."
"You know none of that is true."
"I know. But they are going to say it anyway. And Dev is going to see it. And his family is going to see it. And it is going to make everything harder."
"So you ignore it. You do the work. You show up for him. You let your actions speak louder than internet speculation."
She was right. I knew she was right. But the weight of constant scrutiny was exhausting.
I got ready for work, trying to push the news coverage out of my mind. I had fifteen families
depending on me today. I needed to focus on them, not on what strangers on the internet thought about my relationship.