16. Sujit
SUJIT
I t had been the end of our third semester in grad school.
With bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep, we raced against time to finish up our final projects.
It’d been on one of those nights that, in an adrenaline-induced sleepless daze, I’d foolishly told Manoj, who was my roommate and a close friend then, that I had a crush on Tejal.
She’d been the smartest student in our class but bold and forthcoming, whereas I’d been a shy, nerdy guy with glasses.
Manoj’s hands flying over his keyboard had halted promptly, and I’d torn my attention away from my screen to look at him. His shifty gaze had darted away, and he’d resumed his work.
“What did I say?” I’d asked.
“Nothing,” he’d said, shaking his head, then stopped typing again.
When I’d turned to him, he’d said, “Tejal and I have sort of been hanging out. Nothing serious, just fooling around. But I’ll end it if you are really interested in her.”
In that instant, I’d felt like a chump, uninitiated, ashamed, embarrassed.
“Of course not,” I’d blurted. “It’s a crush, that’s all…you didn’t tell me you were seeing her. I’ve never even seen the two of you together.”
“It isn’t serious,” he’d said with a shrug, eyes back on this computer screen, fingers flying again over the keyboard.
I’d done what my parents had raised me to do.
I’d backed off and never spoken about it again.
Not even after they got married. It was only after the divorce, when Tejal had asked me for a coffee date that she revealed she’d always known about my feelings and hoped we could reconnect.
By that time, I’d moved on. And Tejal’s beauty looked less appealing after she’d confessed that she’d chosen Manoj over me because she’d seen more potential, more likelihood of success in him.
I had thanked her for her candor, but in the light of it, I wasn’t sure if she wanted me back because I’d succeeded in life by her definition.
Did she really care for me, or had she only seen the wealth I’d created?
When I’d repaid her candor with mine, she’d pulled back in her seat.
“I don’t need your money, Sujit,” she’d said, a tear forming in her eye.
“I’m well-placed. I was just made VP of software operations at my company.
I was only hoping for love and loyalty, neither of which your friend has given me. ”
“Did he cheat on you?” I’d cried, appalled. Although I hadn’t had the front-row view of their divorce as Adil did, I’d known enough, but this was the first time I’d heard about it.
“It doesn’t matter,” she’d said, sniffing back her humiliation. “I’m ambitious, and he took advantage of my unavailability, as he claimed at our divorce hearing. I wonder if he would have seen it as such if he was the busy one and I’d made good use of his unavailability.”
I’d taken her hand in mind. “I’m sorry, Tejal. I truly am. I really liked you, but we never got a chance to turn it into something more.”
She’d nodded. “You know what’s funny? You’re rejecting me, yet I trust you more than I ever trusted him. I have no fear of shame or embarrassment with you because I know, despite today, I’ll never lose your respect.”
And she hadn’t, but Manoj had. Tejal had been the sixth member of our game night club, and after their divorce, she’d been dignified enough to let Manoj have his circle of friends.
Manoj, on the other hand, continued his braggart and remorseless ways.
That was when we instituted the no-outsiders policy. No friends, no partners, no spouses.
I’d gradually distanced myself from Manoj after that evening in grad school, but he had hung on to his friendship with Adil and the others.
What changed my opinion of Manoj completely was Adil’s revelation that Manoj and Tejal had never been together before that evening.
He’d asked her out only after I told him about my crush.
“It doesn’t matter if he was trying to hurt me,” I’d said to Adil, sitting at his cousin’s exclusive club sipping scotch while Adil sipped cola. “There had to be something there. They got married.”
“And divorced,” Adil had said, turning his soft eyes on me. “Just…be careful around him.”
“Why are you still friends if you don’t trust him?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’m not the one he has tried to sabotage. I’m not the one he’s jealous of. It’s always been you.”
When I’d looked at him with a frown, Adil had responded with a frown of his own and said, “How have you survived for so long? He’s always trying to be better, more successful than you.”
“Why? There’s nothing remotely special about me!”
“That’s what you think, bro. I think he’s overcompensating for his father’s fondness for you.”
“His father is my dad’s friend. That’s how we became roommates that year.”
“Yup, and apparently, he couldn’t stop talking about how brilliant you are.”
“Are you supposed to tell me all this?”
Adil had shrugged with one shoulder, as was his style. “I believe in good deeds, brother, and the good lord knows this is one.” He patted my shoulder. “Watch your back.”
“Tejal said the same thing,” I’d told him.
“Believe her,” he’d advised.
Keep your enemies close, they say. That’s what I had done. Keeping him close had worked to disarm him. Over the years, his obsession with me had seemed to wane, especially as he struggled with keeping his own company afloat. But I knew that he wouldn’t give up any opportunity to sabotage me.
I saw him out on the balcony with Aarti as I placed the plates and napkins on the table.
I glanced over my shoulder at Adil, who was already throwing me concerned looks.
I nodded in reassurance and wished, yet again, that everyone would stop worrying about me.
It made me feel helpless and small, like a kid.
And it wasn’t like Aarti and I were dating.
“Shall we call the lovebirds back in?” Chris said as he grabbed a sandwich off the platter.
“Sure,” I said and settled down before I was tasked with the job.
Adil put his fingers in his mouth and blew a sharp whistle that pierced through my ear drum, and the two heard it on the balcony. When he waved them in, they came back in and settled around the table with the rest of us.
“These look good,” Manoj said with a warm smile directed at Aarti. “I take it back. Having a pretty woman on game nights does have its perks.”
I tamped down the jealousy rising inside me when I heard Aarti respond, “As I understand Jas is a part of your game nights. Do you mean to imply that she’s not attractive?”
Manoj’s jaw dropped.
Aarti put up a finger and added, “I suggest you think very carefully before answering that question.”
She picked up her ham, provolone, and arugula as Chris burst into inconsolable laughter. Manoj shut his mouth quickly.
“I’m so glad Manoj’s getting what he deserves. He’s been having a very easy time since Jas ditched us to care for her baby,” Chris said with a grin.
“Yes, that was utterly selfish of her,” Adil deadpanned as he bit into his chicken sandwich and nodded with approval. “Good choice, man!” he said to me. “Maybe we should switch our regular menu to sandwiches from this place.”
“You’ll need permission from Jas,” Aarti said with a smile.
Maybe this could save me from Jas’ mockery. If I told her how Aarti had had her back all night, maybe she’d consider being a little less harsh on me.
After my friends left and we cleaned up the remnants of the game night, Aarti suggested popping open a bottle of her favorite white.
She revealed how she’d managed to beat us that evening. “It is a game of knowing your opponent.”
“You mean friends?” I corrected.
“It’s literally called Cards Against Humanity. I’m sure the creators didn’t intend it as friendly.”
I laughed.
“Adil was the easiest. He’s a decent guy, so he’d always choose the least problematic card.
That’s what I did, too. Chris was just being his charming self and giving me all kinds of hints with his body language.
The most challenging was Manoj. He tried to throw me off a couple of times by switching gears, but I needed to win. ”
“What about me?” I asked, masking my desperation with a cool voice.
Delicately resting the flute on her thigh, she smiled her naughty smile. “You were the easiest, Sujit. I know you quite well now.”
I relaxed against the couch with satisfaction. “That isn’t good for me.”
“I disagree,” she said and passed me another sly smile.