Chapter 24
Tempted as I was to spend the rest of the weekend with Sameer, I knew I couldn’t do it unless I had a chance to talk with Sujit.
“It’s not right,” I said at Sameer’s sulking.
“But why are we hiding it, and from whom?”
I raised my brows. “Really? Are you forgetting you have to play the doting boyfriend until Saturday?”
He grumbled.
“And what if Aarti decides to drop by and finds me here? Just one more week, my jaan. I’ll talk to Sujit at the first chance I get, and after Saturday you can tell Aarti. We can start over after that.”
“Did you just call me Jaan?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I love it. You’re also my life, my jaan.” He held me close, and I hoped it would be enough for us to survive on until the next weekend.
But the euphoria of reconnecting with Sameer did little to ease the guilt of having cheated on Sujit. A dark echo from my past returned. I had chosen to put myself first again, ahead of my career, my family, and Sujit. The last time I did that, I lost a tiny bit of myself. And yet I craved the happiness that only Sameer seemed to give me. The thrill, the surge of energy coursing through me when I was with him was unlike anything I had ever experienced with anyone else.
Just one more week, I reminded myself when Sameer dropped me back that evening. My first instinct was to call Sona, but I couldn’t tell her what had happened until I had spoken to Sujit. She was truly fond of him, and I felt like I had betrayed them both.
I texted Amar about the development, even though I suspected he would’ve already heard.
I know! Are you happy?he texted back.
Very happy ?
Then I’m happy for you. I’ll see you soon.
While I was responding to him, Aai called. Since her visit to Dallas, I sensed tension lurking in the background whenever we spoke. She had delicately asked me about Sameer, and why I hadn’t mentioned him before when she had heard so much about Amar. I had brushed it off with a feeble explanation about how he wasn’t a close friend. But since then, our calling ritual had also undergone a change. Before, I used to call when I had the time. After her visit, she began checking in more frequently, asking me tenderly how I was holding up, as if she could read the invisible ink on my heart.
I answered her video call, but a few seconds into our conversation, she paused to look at me. “I wish you would come back now.”
“You must be lonely. I’m sorry, Aai. Maybe I can bring you here for a few weeks.”
“No, I’m just fine. I’m worried about you.”
“Me? What’s there to worry about? This is a very safe city.”
“It’s not that….”
“What, Aai?”
“Okay, don’t be cross with me, but that Sameer boy was looking at you with unusual fondness.”
My heart lurched as I prepared to lie. “He’s a friend, Aai.”
“No, it’s different. See, Amar doesn’t look at you that way. Sameer looked at you like…”
“Like what?”
“The way Sujit does,” she said, stunning me into silence. “Has he said anything to you, Tara?”
I responded with an exaggerated shake of my head.
“Okay. Just be careful, Rani.”
“Careful about what, Aai?” I cried. “It’s not like he’s going to force himself on me.”
“No, Tara, I’m talking about the heart. Be careful.”
I didn’t know if it was a mother’s instinct or her keen perceptiveness, but in that moment, her uncanny ability to read my life felt like a mythical superpower. For the first time, though, she didn’t bring up Sujit.
Over that weekend, I tried calling Sujit two more times, but he was busy, and I saw no way to squeeze into the rushed conversation, I’m sorry, I think I’m still in love with Sameer, and also, I slept with him while you were mired in work.
Luckily for me, the week started out busy. A shipment of paintings had arrived from Naples, Italy, on loan for a new exhibit. Even though it wasn’t a part of my assignment, I was enthralled by their large collection of oils and offered to help with cataloging. This left me with little time to think about Sujit or miss Sameer. I managed to catch up with Sameer during my lunch hour, and he told me about the dance moves he was learning. He didn’t mention Aarti, and I didn’t pry. Between his evening choreography sessions and business dinners, I didn’t get to see him much that week. By Thursday, I was missing his touch and his smell. I texted him that afternoon and took a cab to his apartment after work.
When I arrived, Mihir answered the door with a beer in his hand.
“Tara!” he said, a gentle frown marking his otherwise equanimous face. “What are you doing here?”
“I…I wanted to talk to Sameer about something,” I fumbled, then cursed myself for offering such a flimsy pretense with such little conviction.
He gave me a quizzical look. “Really? About what?”
“Umm, is he in?” I strained my neck to see around him, but he didn’t budge. His big, tall frame blocked the door, preventing me from peeking inside.
“Let her in,” Sameer’s reproaching voice called out.
He came around Mihir, who was now grinning.
“He’s messing with you. He knows.” Sameer smiled at Mihir, then pulled me into a hug and whispered, “I missed you.” My body relaxed in his arms.
“Talk?” Mihir smirked at me, “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”
“You don’t want to know what the kids are calling it these days.” I grinned as he took me in a big hug.
“I’m happy for you two knuckleheads.”
I hugged him back with vigor. “Thank you, but right now I need food and a drink.”
“Sameer has ordered Thai and insisted I stay for dinner. You’ve made him efficient and attentive. How did you manage that?” Mihir walked to the kitchen and poured me red wine. I followed him.
“I didn’t,” I said. “Maybe Aarti did? That’s convenient for me. I’d get a fully-trained hu—”
Mihir laughed, slapping my arm, and walked out to Sameer.
“I heard that,” Sameer yelled from the living room, where he was buried behind his laptop screen. “It’s okay, Tara. You can start thinking of me as your husband. I’m not scared of the M-word.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s first get past our current situation.”
When the food arrived, I regaled Mihir with the details of the dance that Aarti’s entire clan was participating in.
“I can’t wait to see that.” He jeered at Sameer.
“Terrific.” Sameer sighed.
“I texted Aarti, but she’s insistent on having me there,” I said, gripping a perfectly charred piece of broccoli between my chopsticks. “I’ve made so many excuses, she probably thinks I’m either a snob or that I hate her. She even asked me if she’d done something to offend me. Now I wish I had said ‘no’ when she first sent me the invitation. But things were different then.”
“Don’t make it too complicated.” Mihir, in his authoritative voice, advised. “Unless you’re ready to come clean before Saturday.”
The three of us exchanged grave looks before Sameer and I shook our heads, hung low.
“You can ride with me.” Mihir offered. “We’ll be out of there as soon as it’s polite to leave.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, then looked up at him. “But I’d hate to be a third wheel if you’re bringing a date.”
He shook his head. “I’m currently single.”
“Again?” Sameer asked, holding his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.
“What do you mean, again?” I asked.
Sameer smirked. “Do you want to explain or should I?” he teased Mihir, who gazed back with insouciance.
Sameer turned to me. “Remember all the names you called me—playboy, Casanova, womanizer? Mihir here puts all those to shame. He’s the real bad boy.”
“Oh?” I gawked at Mihir, who continued to work on his pork-and-veggie Pad Kee Mow with expert chopsticks. “Rich, handsome, brilliant, with just enough gruffness to add mystery?”
“But with a heart of gold. Oh, and great in the sack,” Sameer added with a grin. “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Maybe we should find someone to tame him.” I nudged Sameer. “Someone who could tug at the strings of his heart.”
“Are you both through? Just because you found someone doesn’t mean I’m looking for it.” Mihir placed the chopsticks down on his empty plate and left the table to fetch another beer while Sameer and I shared a giggle.
“This man can’t be tamed.” He returned to his seat and flipped open his bottle with a flourish. “And those things you listed—all hearsay, all bullshit.”
“Oh, so you’re terrible in bed?” I sipped my wine and blinked at him innocently. Sameer winked at me, then burst into a laugh.
“Except that,” Mihir said, tipping his bottle at me.
When Mihir dropped me off at home, I called Sujit again. He texted back to say he was busy and would call back later. He apologized for being unavailable these past few days and said he missed me. Two more days, I reminded myself as I turned in that night.