Chapter 41 #2
“You get the water, I got the rest.”
“You don’t have to.”
Luke is already helping my dad into the bedroom.
I find myself walking to the kitchen. I fill a steel glass with water, then bring that glass to my forehead. My eyes close.
Dr. Mangat said a relapse was possible during this stage. She also gave me a mantra to use for myself in one of our individual sessions. Don’t make him the center of your life. You are the center of your life.
I repeat it a bunch of times. It helps better than the cold steel against my forehead.
When I go back towards my dad’s room, I hear voices coming out of it. What could they be talking about?
“Y-you look like you have money.”
I cringe. That’s my dad talking.
“I do.”
His pleas are broken, but their meanings combine to say: Take her away from here. Take her away from me.
A pesky corner of my heart fractures. I’m stuck holding this glass of water, my feet not responding to orders.
Luke speaks. “I would never take her away even if I could. She loves you.”
“I’ve mezz—messed up a-again. Take her aways.”
“Rita is the strongest woman I know, and it is up to her to decide what she wants to do. I respect her too much to make any decisions for her.”
“Pyar karda?”
(Do you love her?)
I knock on the door, coughing. Both men look over at me. Dad has been changed and is tucked into bed, lying on his side. The bucket is there. His face looks wiped clean of sweat.
“Rita—”
“Go to sleep,” I say, interrupting my dad. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay. Sorry—puth.”
Luke and I leave the room. I shut off the lights and close the door. Then I find myself tidying the living room, placing pillows over certain spots on the couch.
Luke’s hand on my arm stops me.
“I know it’s small,” I start.
“There is more warmth here than my entire childhood.”
Proper words in reaction escape me. I fall back into courtesy. “C-can I get you something?”
His chest heaves, and he swallows thickly, expression pained and blown like I’ve hit him. “Have we gotten so informal that you’ll treat me like a guest? That you won’t even touch me?”
His desperation is like a detonation of action within me. I throw myself into his arms.
Hugging isn’t the right term. We’re finding each other’s hands, face, shoulders, waists, blurting out sentiments— finally, I need you, this is everything, missed it, haven’t called, thought of me, can’t believe it.
And then, suddenly, I wrench myself away. I’m gasping. “We need to talk. I need to know why you’re here.”
“I wanted to wait until your party was over.” Luke glances at the door where Dad is passed out. “I’m sorry you had to leave it like this.”
“I’m used to it.”
Luke shuts his eyes, but not before I see the flash of pained anger. “For that, I am even more sorry, darling.”
“You still haven’t explained why you are here. I—how is the company doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“I left it.”
In the distance, cars honk louder in a bout of rash driving. Downstairs, the street food sings with the splashing of water, the sizzling of oil, and the spreading of dosa batter. The nearest temple bell rings to mark the quarter hour.
All of this must be why I didn’t hear him properly. “You can’t leave Abbot Industries. It’s yours. ”
“I sold off my shares to Intel. They’ll lead the charge when it comes to what Abbot becomes.”
“There’s been nothing on the news about this.” A hysterical edge sharpens my voice. “It’s not happened.”
“It will break in the evening news—” Luke looks at his watch. “In an hour.”
“There’s still time to reverse it then!”
“There isn’t. Paperwork was signed this morning. And even if it could be undone, I wouldn’t. Not when it took me two months and four days to finalize the deal.”
Basically the full amount we’ve been apart. He’s been working on this since then? Unable to stand any longer, I drop onto the couch. “If this was for me, you’ll resent me for it.”
“ Resent you ? I don’t think you understand.
I could never—and ignoring that, I’ve made myself a wealthier man by selling.
Not to mention it’s the emotionally healthier course of action.
Vengeance can be bad for the soul, can’t it?
It leaves you emptier than before, even after you’ve accomplished what you set out to do.
” He lifts and drops his arms. “Now, I’m here. And I missed you desperately.”
All my colors brighten. A dark fog lifts. I can exist again. Oh, how everything sharpens with clarity. “I’ve—missed you.” My pulse hiccups. “B-but what happens now? How do we go on?”
“I’m here.”
I raise my head up at him, realizing I’ve been staring at the ground, afraid to hope. “For how long?”
“As long as you are here.”
“What are you going to do here?”
Luke gives me a patient, gentle look, if not a little amused.
“India has the fifth largest economy in the world. It has one of the highest GDP growth rates anywhere. The IT sector is innovating at a rapid rate with a lot of opportunities for investment. I have no concerns. I’ll be able to start something new.
Something mine. Something I can be proud of. ”
“So that’s why you’re in India?”
“Look at me, Rita,” he says. “I need you.”
“You need my help?”
He shakes his head and steps closer. “I need you. The rest—I don’t care about. If you want to live somewhere else, we can move. But if you want to stay here with your family and friends, we’ll stay here.”
He cautiously sits beside me. My fingers are impatient, deprived, and needy. They dig into his shirt. “All this for us to be together?”
He pulls me onto his lap, and makes a noise, as if it’s been so long and he’s been suffering in absence. Like a man inhaling his first breath after being sent underwater.
“It’s your fault,” says Luke. “You made me human.”
In such relief, I press my cheek against his chest. “What if you get sick of me?”
“I’ve been sick since you left. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’ve become very pathetic.”
“Stop describing my symptoms,” I cry.
“Sistine tried to hire someone new.” Luke burrows his face into my hair and breathes deep. “Don’t pull away from me for that. It wasn’t my idea.”
“I’m never being your employee again,” I say.
“What I want to call you is very different. Trust me. Much—more.” He gathers me even closer. “For the record, I fired the chef and spent two days cleaning the kitchen afterward, but it didn’t help. Your presence was gone. I—didn’t come home for a while after that. Slept at the office.”
“I’m so sorry that’s horrible, Luke.”
“Don’t cry.” With great care, he wipes the drops that have fallen from my eyes. “It wrecks me when you do that. Fuck. Please, darling—tell me what to do. You are shivering—should I—make tea?”
I rub my nose against his shoulder. “I’ve already drank too much tea.”
“I haven’t had a cup since you left.”
“Your f-fault,” I tell him in a shaky voice. “I’ve been trying to drown our tea with other tea. I ask anybody who is willing to drink some with me. Noor, Kiren, Uncle, the mailman who comes to this building—doesn’t work. How can the best tea be the one I drink with you?”
He takes a breath. “My fault? You’re the one who came into my office all brilliant and stubborn.
Who made spending all my time working intolerable because I wasn’t around you.
It’s you who has invaded the whole of me.
Your kindness, beautiful smile, those mischievous brown eyes, the determination in which you do your best for the people you love.
It’s—it’s—well—I love you. I don’t think I’ve said that part, have I? I love you.”
My lips part and I’m suddenly competing to hold my breath, going on until my lungs burn with fire and then finally, releasing it all together. He loves me? “No, I love you.”
Underneath me, he shudders on an exhale. “It’s not a competition. If it was, I would win.”
His laid-back tone is ruined by the disbelief, wonder, and thunderous joy flitting across his face. His eyes are wide and vulnerable.
“You wouldn’t win that,” I claim. “You think I’m to blame for this?
How about you? Poking with all your witty sarcasm, the wry smirk you try to hide when I’ve amused you.
Once I saw that—I couldn’t stop myself. I had to keep seeing it.
The subtle signs of your happiness inappropriately cause me great joy!
I mean—you are my boss. Were . It isn’t supposed to happen.
You weren’t supposed to open your home to me and notice the little things.
My tea. The whiteboard. The endearing way you make food, concentrating hard to not get it wrong.
Obviously, I fell in love with you when it was all stacked up against me. How could I not?”
Luke brings my hand to his chest. “You’ve owned this for a while.”
Overwhelmed, I’m crying again. “The place where my heart is supposed to be is empty. It stayed behind with you when I left.”
“That was the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. I’d endure torture before going through that again. Kindly never do it again.”
“I also said we could be friends.”
“An excruciating consolation for a man who is currently obsessed with finding the right way to propose for real to his fake fiancée. I promise you never want to see what was left of me after you got on that plane.”
“I’m so sorry, Luke. I thought I had to do it. I was scared. Afraid of who you needed me to be. What I thought being with you meant. But now you’ve given it all away.” My breath hitches. “Propose?”
“Steady on, we can table that for later. For now, you need to hear this. I didn’t give anything away, darling.
I have you. And now I need to convince myself you are real and sitting on my lap so I can finally have a moment of peace without you haunting me, without you being in my brain, without my arms hanging around, uselessly dying to touch you. ”
“Do you know I started hearing your voice in my head? That I pretended you were here and what we’d talk about? How much I wanted to tell you that I got this opportunity to cook again…”
“You took so much of me when you left that I didn’t know what I was. All I knew was what I didn’t want. I don’t want to be any of the people we met at that conference. I don’t want to be the man who sits on the throne of a company I loathe.”
A last shred of uncertainty rocks me back. “But do you really think you could live here?”
“My home isn’t a place. It’s you. And…even if you never left, I would need to change. What I want and who I am have radically shifted.”
“I’m not strong enough to walk away again. If that means finding a way to go to fancy parties and learning how to live in that other world, I’ll find a way.”
“I don’t want those parties. I promise you we’ll have as little of those parties as we can have.”
“This is real,” I say to myself. “It’s happening. Rich grump and talented upcoming chef get together in a proper relationship.”
“I’m talented too.”
“Sure, baby.” I pat his cheek.
He spanks my hip, then tugs me up until our faces are aligned. “I can’t wait. Once more. Say it again.” The graveled vibrations of his voice make my knees quiver.
“I love you, love you, love you?—”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
I grin up at him, the weight of the past two months sliding together into new, fresh exuberance and hope. I’m where I want to be, with who I want to be with, able to do what makes me happy in the future.
Luke kisses me.
It goes on forever, and then so we don’t get carried away on the couch, both deciding that our physical reconnection needs glorious time and space to properly execute, we go back to the party after splashing copious amounts of freezing water on our faces.
The first thing everyone notices is our interlocked fingers.
And so we give them another reason to celebrate tonight.