Chapter Fourteen
Chapter
Fourteen
“Listen, buddy. It’s not who brings you into the world. It’s what you do when you’re there.”
—Jay Pritchett, Modern Family
The queue to get away from the stuffy heat and inside the air-conditioned respite of the airport was moving at a snail’s pace, so they stood in line patiently. At least, Veer did. Harsha kept throwing anxious glances at her phone, cringing as the minutes went by.
“We’ll make it,” Veer assured her when she pulled her hair out of its ponytail and started tugging on the hair elastic. He gestured to the large screen ahead of them. “See, our flight’s delayed by thirty minutes.”
“Oh, thank god.” Harsha sank against his body, her curly hair tickling his nostrils. He tried not to take a great big whiff of her spicy-floral shampoo. This woman was a melting pot of intoxicating scents. First the strawberries, now this?
The line moved forward by a few people. Harsha busied herself with swiping through some photos she’d taken this weekend while Veer looked around at the airport. Next to the crowded queues was the arrival hall, equally as packed with loved ones eager to see the people who’d just landed in the city. Cab drivers stood holding name placards, waiting for their assigned passengers to spot them. The drivers were from different hotels, companies, banks, and—
Veer froze.
One of the drivers was holding up a placard with the logo of a midsized corporate bank headquartered in Mumbai. It said: Welcome back, Mr. Kannan!
It couldn’t be. No way was that referring to Narayan Kannan, father of Veer and Arjun Kannan, breaker of Manisha Kannan’s heart. It couldn’t be. When Dad had left, he’d been a teller at a government bank with big dreams of making it in corporate someday—not that he ever put any effort into those ambitions. Kannan was a common Tamilian last name. There was no way the placard was—
The driver waved to someone walking out of the arrival hall. Veer craned his neck, hoping to see who this banker was, if only to give himself closure.
A middle-aged, balding, portly man in a suit came into view, wheeling a small overnight bag. He turned sideways, greeting the driver with a familiar smile—
It was him.
Veer blinked back tears as he pulled on his collar and tried to take in a big gulp of air, but his throat had closed up. Time came to a standstill; his heart nearly stopped, but Dad kept walking, out of sight, out of Veer’s life yet again.
Just like when he was a kid. And now, here he was, presumably rich and successful, while the people he once called family were struggling to pay their bills—
“Veer? Veer, are you okay?”
Harsha’s frantic voice pulled him out of his stupor. Veer looked around, gasping for breath, and stumbled into Harsha’s outstretched arms. They were closer to the check-in counter now, but everyone was staring at him in concern. He didn’t need a mirror to know his face must have looked pale and sickly.
“I’m here,” Harsha said soothingly, patting his back. “Do you want some water?”
“Y-yeah,” he stammered out.
A man standing behind them in line handed Veer a bottle of water that he downed in three quick gulps. “Thanks.”
“Sir, do you need medical help?” a security guard asked from up ahead.
Harsha opened her mouth, nodding, but he spoke first. “No. I’m—I’m fine. Thank you.”
Veer let Harsha take the lead with check-in, quietly following behind her and mumbling “We’re late” every time she tried to ask him what happened.
Once they were through with security check and sitting in front of their gate, Harsha held his hand. When she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion. “Veer, please talk to me,” she said. “You almost collapsed, and I didn’t know what to do. I just froze. I—I’m so sorry.”
He smiled, despite the exhaustion he felt down to his toes, and wiped the first tear that slid down her cheek. “Hey, I’m fine now.”
She squeezed his hand three times in reassurance. “Was it a panic attack?”
Veer looked away, thinking. “I don’t know. I’ve never had one before. I, uh, I saw my dad outside.”
Harsha gasped. “Your dad?”
He explained what he saw and sat back in his chair, shoulders sinking. “He was wearing a suit. And he had a driver. And—and he looked happy.”
“Veer…”
“How can he be happy after everything that happened?” A wave of anguish was threatening to break out of him, but he tried to hold it in. He didn’t want to cry in front of Harsha. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you—”
She got up from her chair and crouched in front of him, cupping his face with her soft hands. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice fierce. “You could never embarrass me. You are smart, and sweet, and so much fun, and you’ve proved it countless times this weekend. If your father can’t see your worth, then he doesn’t deserve your grief. All right?”
Veer nodded. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
Their flight had commenced boarding, so they joined the queue. Harsha held his hand right up until they slid into their seats, and she only let go to place her tote bag under the seat in front of her. “Do you want the window?” she asked as he fumbled with his seat belt. “I can take the middle, if you want to cry without anyone noticing.”
That made Veer laugh. Fuck, she was so cute. “I’m fine, thanks. But I definitely could do with a nap.”
Harsha smiled. “Want to use my shoulder as a pillow, this time?”
He suppressed the rush of affection that flooded his senses at those words and scooted closer to her. “Yes, please.”
While Veer slept on Harsha’s shoulder as the plane flew to Bangalore, she looked out the window at the blue sky. The city below them grew smaller with each passing second, but dark clouds ahead threatened turbulence. What a perfect metaphor for this weekend.
The more time Harsha spent with Veer, the more it solidified her belief that she was doing the right thing. Once Neha and Rohan’s wedding was over, Harsha would have some breathing room to figure out her shit. Everyone would be focused on Neha’s honeymoon, her married life, her plans to start a family—they wouldn’t notice if Harsha stopped posting pictures with Veer. Hopefully, by the time they started asking questions again, she would have a head start with her career and love life.
The problem was…Harsha couldn’t remember the last time she’d connected with a person to this extent. When she’d turned around in the queue and seen Veer’s deathly pale face and trembling limbs, her heart had stopped. A multitude of thoughts had raced through her mind— Is he having a panic attack? Is he going to collapse? Why didn’t I notice it sooner? —but there was a quiet voice whispering, I need him to be okay, or I won’t be.
She didn’t want to lose Veer after the contract ended. She couldn’t afford to. In the past month, he had become more than just her contracted fake boyfriend—he’d become her friend.
But did he feel the same way?
Veer roused, lifting his head from her shoulder and rubbing his neck. “What time is it?”
Harsha checked her phone. “We’re fifteen minutes from landing. Did you sleep okay?”
He yawned as he nodded. “Kinda.” He stretched his arms in front of him as much as he could, given the packed economy class flight, then said, “I had a dream about Dad.”
“Wow, your subconscious works fast,” Harsha joked.
Veer chuckled; it made Harsha’s heart bloom. “In the dream, he showed up to Sunstag in that fancy suit and tie and ordered a nitro cold brew to go. He didn’t recognize me, and when I told him who I was, he said his real son would never work at a café.” At Harsha’s raised eyebrow, he let out an anguished exhale. “Was he judging me for being a barista? Or am I judging myself, since it was my dream and my subconscious?”
Harsha shifted toward him, placing her hand on his knee. “I don’t think it’s about you being a barista at all. I think you’d have had this dream even if you were an engineer, a banker, or anything else.”
He snorted. “Are we jumping right back into the acting conversation?”
“You know I have a point,” she said.
A flight attendant stopped by their row to remind them to prepare for landing. Veer slowly pushed his seat back upright. Finally, he spoke. “You and my brother would get along so well.”
Those words made her stomach flutter, but she kept a straight face. “Meaning what?”
“Arjun is always on my case about getting back into acting.” Veer ran a hand along his hairline. “But he doesn’t understand that I can’t . Some of us have financial responsibilities.”
Harsha didn’t know the extent of Veer’s monetary obligations. He still hadn’t told her what he was using the money for. “Following your passion has a cost, but isn’t that risk worth it?”
Veer took a sip of water from his bottle, his jaw clenched. “Not everyone can afford to take risks.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it. What could she say to that? Instead, she took his left hand in hers, her heart dropping when she noticed how much colder it was than usual.
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. “Should I…tell my mom I saw Dad at the airport?”
Harsha thought for a minute, wondering what she would do if she were in Veer’s shoes. “It depends on what you want to do about it. When was the last time you made contact with him?” she asked.
Veer’s eyes went back and forth. “Maybe a couple of months after he left, when I didn’t know for sure that he was really gone. Mom gifted me my first cellphone for my sixteenth birthday, and I called his number to ask where he was, why he wasn’t home.” He sighed. “But he had switched his number, and that was that.”
“So you haven’t looked him up? Ever?”
“No. I told myself I didn’t need to know.” He put his empty water bottle in the seat pocket ahead of him, swallowing. “But maybe that’s changed now.”
“Then that’s another thing you need to do. And I’m here for you, Veer. Always.”
“Thanks,” he said, pulling his hand away from her grasp and turning to the front as the captain announced landing. Harsha didn’t miss the distant look in his eyes or the way his shoulders had tightened.
After they got out of the airport and headed to the Uber pickup line, Harsha said, “Do you want to hang out a little longer? We could get some lunch, or watch a movie—”
He walked on, dragging his suitcase behind him. “I’m fine. I think I need to be alone.”
She nodded as she spotted her Uber. It was so hard to understand what went on in this man’s head. “That’s me,” she said, nudging her head toward the car. “Call me later today, okay? I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“I will,” he said, avoiding her eyes. He helped her put her suitcase into the trunk and opened the car door for her. “Get home safe,” he said, turning away before she could wave goodbye to him.
“Sure,” she mumbled as her car sped home. So much for thinking they were letting each other in, at long last.