“I had a chance to get justice for Nisha and I blew it.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. “And not in a small way. I lost everything.”

“I thought I lost everything, too.” His father’s voice thickened. “But today my son came home.”

Sam was out of the car before his brain even processed he had moved. He wrapped his father in a hug. “I’m sorry, Dad. When Ranjeet wasn’t punished, I needed someone to share the blame.”

“I forgive you.” His dad clapped him on the back and they held each other for a moment longer. “For the first few months, I was like you. What if I’d made more inquiries? What if I’d gone to India to see his family there? What if I made them spend more time together? You can torture yourself forever but it doesn’t change anything, and in some ways it gives him more power. Do we let him destroy all our lives or do we show him we can’t be defeated? The best revenge is to move on and live your best life and give Nisha all the love and support she needs to live hers.”

“It’s hard to accept he’ll never pay for what he did.”

“I believe in karma. One day he will pay.” Sam’s father squeezed his shoulder. “You’ve let Ranjeet define your life for too long—you left medicine because of him, you took a job you don’t enjoy because of him, and now you tell me you’ve lost everything because of him. You have a chance to make a change. Let go of the past and decide what you really want out of your life. Be the man I raised you to be.”

“What kind of man is that?”

“A good one.”

* * *

• • •

“OKAY. Hit me.” Holding her phone to her ear, Layla ran down the main hallway at St. Vincent’s Hospital, looking for the yoga studio as Daisy read out the details of the last bachelor on the list. Sweat trickled down her back under her blouse, and her face glistened despite a quick stop in the restroom to pat it down. Although she’d been to the hospital once or twice over the years to visit friends and family, she wasn’t familiar with the new wing and she’d lost time trying to navigate the identical white corridors.

“Sunny Kapoor. He’s the yoga program manager at St. Vincent’s. He designs and manages yoga and stress-management classes for employees and patients. Previous jobs include flight attendant and marketing consultant. His dad passed away when he was ten. Mom works in a bank. Vegan. Loves the outdoors and spends a few months each year in India learning new yoga skills. Try to let him down gently if he’s not the one. You don’t want any bad karma.”

Layla laughed. “I’ll do my best, but I might not be able to control myself if he wants me to squeeze my ass into a pair of yoga pants and bust out a downward dog.”

“That could be his way of checking out the merchandise.” Daisy snickered. “Just don’t do a happy baby pose or he might get the wrong idea.”

Layla turned a corner and pulled up short when she saw Sam standing in the hallway, so solid and handsome it took her breath away. Too bad about the woman with the short blond bob wrapped around him.

“Layla?” A man in loose athletic pants and a tight black tank top walked past Sam toward her. He was totally ripped, all lean sinewy strength, his abs rippling beneath his tight top. With a chiseled jaw, arresting features, and warm, expressive brown eyes, he could have put any Bollywood heartthrob to shame.

Sam’s head jerked up and their eyes locked, the world going unnaturally still. She was acutely aware of the harsh rasp of her breath, the cool breeze from the open door, his heated gaze on her body. An electric tingle raced through her, only to fizzle away when the blond woman leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“Hi, Sunny!” Layla wrenched her gaze away from Sam and tried to feign a familiarity that would hide the fact she was meeting Sunny for the first time. Sam had clearly moved on and she desperately wanted him to think she had, too.

“Give me a hug,” she whispered when Sunny got near.

“No problem.” Sunny wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze while she glared at Sam over Sunny’s shoulder.

“I’m looking forward to next week,” the woman said, seemingly oblivious to the electric current arcing across the hallway. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

“You enjoy these things a lot more than I do, Karen.”

Karen. Layla’s upper lip curled. She remembered her now. This was the woman who had interrupted their almost-kiss at the fountain. Had he been with her all this time? No wonder he hadn’t called after the party. Layla was just another hookup to him after all.

“I’ve got a little surprise for you.” A smile spread across Karen’s face, revealing unnaturally pointed incisors. “I’ll give it to you tonight.”

Layla’s lips pressed tight together when Karen wrapped her octopus tentacles around Sam’s arm. Did he realize she was at least ten years older than him? Or was he blinded by her bleached and streaked blond hair?

“Do you need more hugging?” Sunny whispered.

Her entire body strained to move toward Sam. If not for Sunny’s arms around her, she would already be across the hallway, despite his new appendage.

“Yes, and a kiss.”

“Lips or cheek?” an accommodating Sunny asked.

“We’d better get back.” Karen clasped Sam’s hand and pulled him gently in the opposite direction.

Only Sam didn’t move. His gaze fixed on Layla. His body utterly rigid as if he were frozen in place.

“Cheek,” Layla whispered.

Sunny dutifully pressed his cool, dry lips to her sweaty skin. “Can I let go?”

“Yes.”

“You ready for lunch?” Sunny asked. “There’s a great vegan café just around the corner. I promise you won’t be able to tell their mac ’n’ cheese from the real thing, and their gluten-free donuts are divine.”

“Gluten-free and donuts aren’t really words that should be spoken in the same sentence.” She put an arm around his waist and looked back over her shoulder as they walked away. Sam’s jaw was clenched, his lips pressed in a tight line, the familiar expression making her ache inside.

“You’re so affectionate.” Sunny pressed another kiss to her cheek. “The other women I met on desilovematch.com have usually had family with them, or expected me to keep a few feet away.”

“If you want, you can squeeze my ass,” Layla offered.

“I’m not sure that would really be appropr—”

“Squeeze it.”

“Okay.” He dropped his hand down and squeezed her rear cheek.