Chapter Twenty-Six Simi #2
“You know what’s funny? That sounds exactly the way you’ve always loved me.”
That stops her. She turns to me, her eyes wide with the pain of the accusation. But she doesn’t punch back. Maybe it is possible to truly change. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s rebuilt myself.
She takes my hand. “You’re right. I already admitted that I felt like I had to make all the decisions for both of us. I’m the one who taught you how to love someone. It’s no wonder you think that’s the only way to do it.”
She’s right. She is the one who taught me how to love. Could it be that I’m doing just that? Loving Prem from a place of struggling to retain my power?
She squeezes my hand. “We were children, Simi.”
“I know. And that’s on me. What we learn from our circumstances is based on who we are.”
“We’re both responsible.”
I laugh. “But I’m the one who’s messed up my relationship with the best man in the world because of it.”
She pulls her hand out of mine. “See. There. That’s the problem. He’s no better a person than you are! This is why you act like a damned spineless fairy princess around him. Around all of them.”
“I do not!”
“You do.” She looks so sad, my heartbeat speeds up.
I recognize the look in her eyes. She’s the old Rupi again, and she’s about to drive a dagger into my heart with what she says next.
“And do you know why it bothers me so much? Because that’s exactly how Mom was when she was in love.
Like she’d won the lottery. Like all she had to do was hide who she was, and she’d get to keep the jackpot. Untrusting but wildly performative.”
“Go to hell, Rupi!” I run down the steps and start jogging to the car without waiting for her. I guess this sisterly communication thing isn’t for people like us. We’re too broken for that.
She follows me and gets in the car wordlessly, and I back out a little too fast. For an inordinate amount of time we just drive, sitting in this hurtling metal box as though the anger gathered inside us is propelling us forward.
“I’m sorry,” Rupi says finally. “I shouldn’t have brought Mom into it.” And there it is—the reason why we will always feel broken.
“We’re never going to be rid of her, are we?”
“When did we ever have her?” she says. “Isn’t that funny? We keep trying to get rid of something we never had.”
That is funny, but I can’t bring myself to laugh. “Do you ever miss her?”
“Not even a little bit. All I feel is relief that she’s gone. And sadness that she was who we got.”
“Same. Can you imagine what the Guptas would think if they knew how much we hate our mother?”
She goes quiet again.
“I’ve never told Prem how I feel about Mom.” I don’t mean to say it, but it comes out.
“I know. It’s not an easy thing to share with anyone. But that doesn’t mean everything else inside you can’t be shared either.”
I hate that I want to cry again. I hold it in. “How can it be both those things? Either I run this relationship, or I’m a spineless fairy princess. How can I be both?”
“We’re talented, I guess,” Rupi says. “Our damage is pretty complex, Simi. I don’t think there are easy answers. Maybe someday we’ll be able to afford therapy, and then everyone around us can have some peace.”
I can already afford therapy, but the idea is terrifying. “Do you really think I don’t show him my real self?”
“Well, has he ever seen you not dressed for company?”
I shift in my seat, and my chin goes up. “We usually meet at the Johnsons’, or outside the house. It’s not like I can be running around town in a nightie.”
“What about when he stays over?”
I don’t answer. I can hardly admit to making sure I’m all dressed up before he wakes up.
“You hate his family pizzas. Does he know that?”
“Everybody else seems to love them, so that might just be me. Why hurt his feelings?”
“Fair enough. What about the fact that you’re terrified of having kids? Does he know that?”
Growing up, that was one thing Rupi and I always said—that motherhood wasn’t for us. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind about that. I think it was TASha. Or maybe it’s Prem. I can imagine being a mother with him.”
For the first time she looks at me like I’ve taken her completely by surprise.
“Prem’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met.” I let out the saddest smile. “And if you say that’s because he’s a rasgulla, I will smack you.”
She smiles sheepishly. Obviously that’s exactly what she was going to say. “But motherhood?” So many emotions flash through her eyes. This is the thing she can’t get past?
“Ma wasn’t the one who taught me how to be a mother, Rupi. You were.”
She presses a hand to her mouth. I think she might cry. She doesn’t. She just looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time.
It takes her a long time to speak again. “Tell me something,” she says finally. “Why hadn’t you ever met Prem’s family? You were together for a year. If you’re so sure of your love, why were you not already engaged when I got here? I’ll bet he’d already asked you to marry him.”
How on earth could she possibly know that?
“He did ask me. And I would have said yes eventually, but then you showed up.”
“But why did you say no in the first place?”
“Because I work for his sister. I was afraid of losing my job.”
“John wasn’t the one you were in love with. Why would you lose your job?”
She’s not wrong. Preeti and John never led me to believe they didn’t want me to be with Prem. Now that I think on it, Karina might have been more inclined to sign my papers if I were engaged to Prem. Then why did I use that as an excuse?
I haven’t said that out loud, but Rupi still hears it.
“You know, it would be entirely impossible for someone who saw what we saw growing up to not be afraid of marriage. It’s actually amazing that you’re brave enough to love someone.
Maybe you knew that you couldn’t get married until you were able to show him all the parts of you, even the ones that feel too ugly to be loved.
I’m sure it didn’t help that you had a sister who taught you that loving someone means giving up control to them. ”
It’s a good thing we’re home and I pull into my parking space, because my heart is racing in my chest. I wish we’d had this conversation long before this. Because now it’s too late.
“None of this matters anymore. Because I think I’ve already lost him.”
“Lost him? What are you talking about? We’re not actually getting married, Simi. He has no interest in me.”
“I know. But he hasn’t talked to me—really talked the way we used to—in months.
He’s never in town.” I press a hand into my chest to quell the ache there.
“I love him so much, Rupi. He’s everything that’s good in this world.
He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. The things everyone else believed that we never could .
. . He makes it easy to believe those things.
I wish I hadn’t been afraid, because he’s gone, and I miss him so much it hurts. ”
“Oh, baby girl,” she says. “Then let him see all of that. Let him see you. He’s already met me. What could you possibly show him that could scare him away after that?”
“Don’t say that. You’re the best part of me. Now that he’s met you, how can he ever love me?” My shoulders are shaking. Sobs are erupting from my chest like little earthquakes. There’s a monsoon on my face.
“For the love of god,” Rupi says. “You’re such an idiot.” But she reaches over the armrest and pulls me close.
I fall into her. And for the first time in a million years, I sob in my sister’s arms.