Chapter 8 Simi #2
“My god, Simi, how is that relevant?” He runs his hand through his hair again, leaving trails in the thick curls.
“What I’m saying is that you did want me to get a green card that way.”
“And you refused. It’s one of the many reasons I love you. I can’t imagine you doing anything unethical or dishonest. Now you want me to do something that involves lying to everyone I know and dishonoring our love.”
I look around to make sure we’re alone and step close to him.
I press a hand into his chest. His heart is racing.
“Prem, I’ve never felt like anyone belongs to me.
Until you. Do you know how hard it is for me to ask anyone for anything?
And yet I’m asking you, because you’ve given me that.
From the day we met, you’ve given me all of you.
I can only ask because I honor our love that much.
” Saying those words is terrifying, but every one of them is true. This truth is all I have.
He grips my hand like a man drowning. He’s in pain, but he’s holding me like he’ll never let go. Hope rises inside me.
“I haven’t told you about my childhood because it would break your heart.
” Rupi is right; there are no good choices, and it’s too late to not tell him the whole truth.
“Rupi was five years old when I was born, and she raised me. Our father left when my mother got pregnant with me. Her husbands came and went through a revolving door. You can’t imagine what our world was like.
No one played with us in the neighborhood or at school.
The other kids weren’t even allowed to talk to us.
We were constantly attacked and mocked. That was still easier than being at home.
I survived it because Rupi protected me.
Who you see standing here before you, the person you profess to love .
. . I wouldn’t be that person if she hadn’t paid for it with her own life and her own future.
” And I had forsaken her. “I cannot turn away from her again.”
“I can’t, Simi. I’ll do anything for you, but don’t ask for this.”
“There’s more. At least hear me out. The reason she can’t go back is because of something I did.
Our mother was sick for the last few years of her life.
The nurse who gave her dialysis was her last husband.
He knew exactly how much longer she was going to live when they got married.
He also knew that she owned a flat in Andheri.
Rupi noticed that Ma was deteriorating really fast since she met him.
Rupi was always paranoid, suspicious of everyone and everything. It’s how she kept us safe.
“But after she said it, I investigated the meds he was giving her. I had just graduated nursing school, and I realized that he was giving her enough of a drug to essentially poison her. I confronted him. Things didn’t go well.
He attacked me. I pushed him off me, and he hit his head and passed out.
I called Rupi. We decided to leave him there without getting help, and he died.
It was an accident, but we were sure no one would believe us.
We thought no one had seen us, but then a cop showed up with some CCTV footage and started blackmailing us. ”
I’m crying again, but Prem doesn’t move to wipe my tears, and that hurts. He looks like I’ve rammed into him with a truck.
“I had already been admitted into the fellowship program here. I would have lost everything if I’d been arrested.
Basically, Rupi gave him what he wanted.
And . . . and it wasn’t money, because we didn’t have any.
She made it possible for me to be here. But the cop never stopped blackmailing her.
Leaving Mumbai was her only chance to escape.
She’s in this situation because of me. I have to help her. Please.”
“My god, Simi.” He steps away. He looks horrified. “How could you hide all this from me?”
Betrayal slices me in half. I turn away from him, my face flaming with shame. I just showed him everything, all the truth I had. And he pulled away.
“Maybe,” I say, bitterness coating my tongue, “I hid it because I knew it would make you pull away.” I start walking again. I’ve left my sister alone for too long. I need to get her out of here and figure out what to do next.
“Simi,” he calls after me. “I’m not pulling away. I just need a moment to digest it all.”
I stop, but I can’t make myself turn to him. “Fine.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means take your time. Sorry I asked for your help. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll figure it out.” The way Rupi always figured things out for me.
“What about us?”
“I don’t know, Prem. I can’t think about that right now.
” I can’t wrap my head around what I just did.
I laid everything out in front of him. I know what I’m asking is too much.
I think a part of me knew it was impossible.
Prem was never going to do it. No one would.
Yet all I can think is that Rupi was right. Prem didn’t come through.