Chapter 13
NO MORE GOODBYES
NAVYA
“Ididn’t mean for this to happen,” he says as he ties the drawstring of his scrub bottoms around his lean waist.
Didn’t mean what to happen?
For us to fuck?
For us to fuck in the call room like we have been for six months?
For us to fuck in the call room after you told me it was over because you’re getting engaged?
Yeah. Me neither.
But my stupid heart wanted to say goodbye with a—Hai Bhagvan—a fuck.
Yep. I’ve officially lost it. And by it, I mean my dignity, common sense, and self-respect.
When I tell Latika about this, she’s going to kick my ass and call me an idiot. She’ll be right. I deserve the ass-kicking. I am a colossal, stupid, dumb idiot.
Is that enough self-loathing, Bhagvan? Can I hug myself now and cry a little?
It started an hour ago, in the hallway outside the OR.
“Navya,” he’d said, voice careful, like he was approaching a patient with bad imaging. “We need to talk.”
I’d known then. My body had known before my brain caught up.
“We have to stop seeing each other,” he told me when we went into the on-call room, the one on the far end of the floor. Our secret place. “I’m getting engaged.”
Engaged.
Not might. Not someday.
Getting.
“Ah…have you been seeing someone else all this time?”
He was taken aback. He shook his head vigorously. “No. Never. I wouldn’t do that. No…it’s just…this is someone I’ve known most of my life and my family…well, my grandfather is very fond of her.”
I stared at him for a second, waiting for the punchline. For the just kidding. For the explanation that makes this make sense.
It didn’t come.
Right.
So, my secret Italian boyfriend is dumping me, an Indian, because he’s walking into an arranged marriage situation?
That makes absolutely no sense. I am the one who comes from a country where ninety percent of marriages are still arranged, and in his country they stopped doing that shit around the same time they chopped all the heads off their royalty, right?
“Okay,” I managed to say, like it was a scheduling change and not the dismantling of my chest cavity.
He watched my face—carefully, like he was reading a scan he already knew the outcome of.
“Are you alright?” he asked, like he was expecting shouting.
Tears.
Accusations.
Well, fuck that.
Despite the ache in my heart, I managed to spit out an-almost genuine sounding, “Congratulations.”
That finally did it. His jaw tightened. His eyes flickered.
“Navya—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted quickly. “I mean. We knew this had an expiry date on it.”
That part isn’t even a lie. I just didn’t know how it would end. Or how small it would make me feel.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, and I believe him.
“I’m not hurt…I’ll miss you, yes, but…it’s fine,” I lied like I didn’t have a care in the world.
The silence between us stretched. He looked like he wanted to say something else—something better, something truer—but whatever it was, it didn’t come.
Then one of us moved, or we both did, and…now we’re putting our clothes back on.
I guess everyone deserves a goodbye fuck, right?
“Navya, cara,” he says gently, like he didn’t just slice through my internal organs. “Tell me you’re okay.”
Damn it! He needs to leave.
I don’t know how long I can postpone my emotional collapse because my secret lover—ex-lover—just told me he’s getting engaged and yet wants reassurance that he’s not a monster. And he’s calling me darling in Italian while he’s at it.
What a prince.
“A-okay, Doc,” I reply brightly. So bright that my dead mother’s soul is probably applauding from the afterlife.
He cocks an eyebrow. Subtext: What the fuck is wrong with you?
He has the sexiest eyes I’ve ever seen. Blue. Deep blue. And against his olive skin—baby, they still light me up like a Christmas tree.
No. Stop.
Bad Navya.
The man is getting engaged. Which is a precursor to getting married. And having sex with a married man is where the line must be drawn, no matter how sexy his eyes are.
Catholic gods might be appeased by a few rosaries, but Indian gods? Oh no. They make you burn in the fires of narak* while doing hard labor. I read that in an Indian comic book my Mummy bought for me, so I know it’s true.
“Good,” he says, already halfway back into his armor. “I don’t need the drama. The last time I ended something, that doctor lost her shit in the OR.”
Wow.
Look at you, Doc. Neatly slotting me into the crazy-healthcare-professionals-you-fucked category.
Nice going, asshole.
I smile anyway. Because that’s what I do. I keep it together. I don’t cry in call rooms.
He leaves first.
I don’t allow myself to cry…yet. I need company for that. And a solid drink.
Two hours later, I’m sitting at the bar at The Lone Palm, the kind of place that smells like spilled beer and forgiveness. It’s dark. Quiet. The kind of bar where no one asks questions if you stare into your drink too long.
I’m waiting for Latika in a booth. I sent her an SOS right after, and she’s getting here as fast as she can. But…this is the Bay Area, so there’s traffic on the bridge.
I order a large whiskey. I am not a big drinker, but when I need fortification, my go-to is Johnny.
I hear his voice, and I blink.
How much did I drink? Or am I just hallucinating at this point?
“I told her today,” Evan says.
My stomach drops so fast I think I might actually throw up.
Another male voice says, “How did she take it?”
“Fine.”
“No drama.”
“No. She’s…not like that.”
I keep my head down as I realize that Evan is sitting with someone in the booth next to mine. Talk about the universe giving me the middle finger…or clarity.
Same difference, Navya.
“Look, you knew it was never going to work out. At least the sex was good, right?”
My heart sinks at the man’s words. Evan talked to him about me. I doubt I can feel any cheaper or smaller….
“Sex was great. I mean…considering I was her first.”
The other man laughs, and I realize, yes, I can feel cheaper and smaller than I just did a moment ago.
“Initiating a virgin is not always pleasant—I did a couple of times in my youth. Now, I steer clear.”
The way they’re talking about women is insulting.
God! And here I thought Evan was a decent guy. This isn’t decent.
“Well, Navya was…is nice, sweet, and…we had a good time together.”
Then a pause.
“But it was never going to be serious,” Evan continues. “I told her that.”
“Well, at least when you’re out with Arabella, you don’t have to take her to out-of-the-way restaurants.”
Arabella? Is that the woman he’s going to marry?
My cheeks are wet, I realize, because I’m crying. Silently.
So, this is what heartbreak feels like? This is what being humiliated does to you.
“Well…if someone saw us together, it wouldn’t be good for her or me—especially at work. I kept it quiet for both our sakes.”
You’re so full of shit, Dr. Vincenzo. I was your dirty secret because you wanted it that way.
“Not your first short-term affair,” the other man says, “but definitely your last as you’re getting married.”
“I guess so.” Evan’s voice is stiff.
“Will you miss it? Her?”
I hold my breath.
“No, not at all. Navya was convenient,” he says. “A distraction. That’s all.”
“And she can’t compete with Arabella.”
“Come on! Arabella went to London Business School and comes from an elite family. Navya is just a nurse…hell, she couldn’t afford medical school, so that’s not a fair comparison.”
They keep talking, but I can’t hear them any longer. My ears are ringing.
I finish my drink. Set the glass down carefully. Stand.
My legs don’t shake. My hands don’t tremble.
Latika walks in just as I’m heading out.
“There you are!” she says. “Sorry, I’m—Navya? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I tell her. And for the first time tonight, it’s true. “I think everything is clear now.”
* Hell (Hindi)