25. Aarti
AARTI
H e was still holding my hand as we stepped inside the beach house. I let him settle while I fetched a towel.
“Are you cold?” I asked with genuine concern.
“No,” he responded as he took the towel from me and wiped his face and legs.
“It looked like you were shivering. And then there is this other condition,” I said with as straight a face as I could manage.
He quickly wrapped the towel around his waist. “It’s nothing, probably a dream.”
“ A dream ? What kind of dream? Were you having a sex dream?” Oh, I was definitely curious.
“No.” He responded calmly, but averted his gaze.
“You know, sooner or later, you’ll have to tell me who you were dreaming about,” I said.
“Not anyone you’d know.”
“Oh, so now you’re not denying it was a sex dream.”
“Aarti, didn’t you bring me here to relax and unwind? Stop bothering me. I’m going to change out of these wet clothes.”
I opened my mouth, but he held up a finger. “No pun intended,” he said before I could get in a word. “And FYI, if I was cold, my…thing would be doing the opposite of what it’s doing now.”
I burst out laughing while he escorted his wet body to the bathroom.
My renewed optimism this morning could be credited to a decision I made last night.
I might not get to hold on to Sujit for life, but I was determined to enjoy his company for as long as I could.
He was good for my soul. He had helped me heal in a way I hadn’t expected.
Even after we were forced to part ways, I knew I could hold on to the love, the hope, the kindness in my heart.
It sounded like a cliché, but he had made me a better version of myself.
I didn’t feel broken anymore. I was stronger, more confident with him in my life.
He was the definition of the elusive happiness that I’d been searching for.
I walked to the coffee station, brewed two cups, and carried them to the small table by the glass wall. Several delicious-looking pastries and small cakes were neatly arranged on a covered cake stand.
Sujit reemerged from his room, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. I frowned. He had flaunted his bare torso all day, and now, after that ridiculous dream or whatever, he had chosen to cover up his body.
That didn’t mean I was going to let him be. All through coffee, I kept nagging him to tell me who was responsible for his condition in the hammock.
“Okay, at least tell me if that person is real or not.”
He frowned. “As in fictional?”
“Or, you know, like a celebrity or something.”
“I hope this is not like breaking the truth about Santa, but you know celebrities are real people, don’t you?”
I hit his arm.
“I’m not saying,” he replied and stuffed a mini cupcake into his mouth.
Turning serious for a moment, I asked, “Was it Tara?”
With a vehement shake of his head, he gulped down the cake with haste. “I’ve never dreamed of Tara, sexually or otherwise.”
When I opened my mouth again, he quickly added, “If you keep bugging me, I’ll have to rethink the gifts I got you.”
“As in, take them back? Tsk, that’s so unbecoming.”
“As in, never reading to you again until you stop bothering me.”
My pulse fluttered as I imagined us spending a lifetime together, my head in his lap as he read to me every night until my eyelids dropped close.
“All right, you win.”
I yielded. Even if it existed in the imaginary plane, it was a vision that would carry me through the toughest days of my life.
“What do you want to do next?” I asked. “It’s our last night here. Wanna go dancing?”
He stopped midway to selecting another delectable pastry from the spread and frowned. “Dancing?”
“Yeah, the island has a lot of great clubs.”
“I had something different in mind.”
“Like?”
“I was thinking of taking another long walk along the sea. Are you game?”
I slumped. “No! You wore me out this morning. I walked…” I checked the data on my smartwatch, “10, 578 steps.”
He threw his head back in a laugh. “Alright, then, you suggest.”
“Let’s—”
“No dancing,” he interrupted me.
I blinked my eyes in thought. “Then I’m out of ideas.”
“I have one.”
“Does it involve walking or running on the beach?”
“No, but it does involve being on the beach.”
“Oh?”
“How do you feel about spending the night on the beach?”
“As in sleeping in the sand? No, thank you.”
“Not in the sand. On the sand. I inquired with the staff during lunch. They have cots with mattresses, and they can set it all up under a canopy in case it rains. But it’s not going to rain.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “How do you know that? Do you have an in with the rain god now?”
“No, sweet girl. I have a very reliable weather app.” He leaned in to grab my nose between two fingers, and I giggled.
I had assumed it would be a low-key setup with a couple of recliners underneath a canopy. But this was Mary Beth’s domain. Her kingdom.
When we walked to the beach after dinner, multiple sets of string lights illuminated two low cots laid with full bedding sets under a regal tent.
Dad was rich, but our wealth was acquired, not inherited.
This screamed ancestral wealth, which had kept increasing through the generations.
We were not nearly in the same league as the Arlingtons or the Strausses.
Even if we had the money, expecting or demanding something like this would be inconceivable.
I breathed in the sea-soaked happiness around me as I lowered myself to the left cot.
“Now what?” I asked as Sujit removed his footwear and settled himself on the other bed. “We just sleep?”
“No. We listen to the sea, look at the stars in the distance.”
“You’ll have to turn off these lights for that. Do you know how?” I looked around for a switch of some kind. The person helping us that evening had already retreated to the chateau.
“Yup. These are battery-operated, and I have a remote right here,” he said, showing me a tiny one in his hand.
“Goodness, you have thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Not me. It’s the staff. I think they are used to such curious requests from their employers.” He chuckled as I removed my silk robe, folded it, and placed it by my pillow.
He pulled the covers on him and lay down with a contented look on his face.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked when I slipped under a plush duvet.
“Yes,” I whispered. “You?”
“Very.”
We lay there gazing at the dark horizon, where the sea and the sky blended in the same color.
Indigo. The color of calm. Of contentment and a higher connection.
Just like I had with the man beside me. What was it that I felt about him?
What was the spirit of our connection? I listened to the waves and stared at the indigo, searching for clarity and answers.
“Can we turn the lights off?” I asked softly.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” he replied as a noiseless click ushered us into darkness.
The chateau behind us was bathed in dim golden lights, but it looked so far way.
The world felt so far away. This space was ours.
So was the silence. I tried listening to the rhythm of the sea again.
This time, I wasn’t looking for answers.
Only solace, and I found it in the sound of the waves surfing up to the sand and back.
Sujit was right. This was the best way we could have spent the last night here.
“Sujit, are you asleep?” I asked with my sight still set on the horizon.
“Yes, I’m in deep sleep right now.”
An unintended laughter rocked my entire body. “This is straight from that Aamir Khan movie!”
As I turned my face to him, he opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Darn, I thought this was as original as it came,” he deadpanned.
I laughed harder until I realized I couldn’t figure out if he was joking.
“You really didn’t know?” I cried with incredulity, then realized not every second-gen Indian kid had grown up on Bollywood. He had said he didn’t understand much Hindi. It was possible he grew up on a completely different set of Indian movies.
“Have you watched any Hindi movies?” I asked.
“Some. My parents are big Bollywood buffs. But I needed subtitles, and not many prints had those.”
True, they didn’t.
“Did you watch Telugu movies growing up, then?”
“Only the ones my parents watched. Mom also watched Tamil movies. And all my superstar idols growing up were from South Indian cinema.”
“You are a treasure, Sujit.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
I turned to face him. “No, it’s genuine appreciation.”
My eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, spotted his bright smile. “So are you, Aarti. A genuine treasure. Your work ethic alone surpasses anyone I know.”
“Mom sometimes complains that I’m a workaholic like Dad, but I’m not one, and neither is Dad. Dad worked hard to provide for us. Once the business took off, he had to keep up with the pace of its growth. We both love what we do, but we have never prioritized work over people or family.”
“I rest my case,” he said.
“What case was that?” I teased.
“That you are a genuine treasure.” The broad smile on his dark face in the dark night brightened my soul.
“I thought that was my case,” I queried with a frown, and the curve on his lips grew wider in response. “What about your work?”
“What about it?”
“I don’t know much about startups, but shouldn’t someone who sold his for billions be doing something else? Like acquiring other startups or some such? How come you are still tinkering with new ideas yourself?”
“That is a very curious question, indeed. A perceptive one, and one that I have no straightforward answer to.”
“Try me. We have all night to chat.”