Chapter Seventeen Simi
Seventeen
Simi
Who knew that a bizarre choice of art medium is what would thaw my relationship with my sister?
I guess Rupi is right—the world does need art.
So what if shed human hair is involved. It’s fitting because our truce feels like it’s hanging by a hair.
On one hand, it’s become hard for me to think about Prem without wanting to double over in pain at the thought of them together.
On the other hand, having Rupi in my home is like having a lost piece of myself restored.
Rupi is making chai when I walk into my kitchen. The déjà vu is powerful, and my brain shuffles past all the Rupis of my childhood before it lands on the thirty-one-year-old one in front of me.
Her eyes light up when they catch sight of me, then they get all guarded again. “I got you something,” she says, pointing to a shopping bag on the floor. “But I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”
“That’s an ominous thing to say when you give someone a present.” I pick up the bag and bounce it in my hand. It has some weight.
“Well, you haven’t exactly been generous with judging my intentions lately.”
Is she really trying to start a fight while giving me a present?
There’s no way I’m taking the bait. We get only an hour in the mornings before I have to go to work.
As always, I’ll drop her off at the Gupta house on my way to the clinic for another day of pampering, and one of the Guptas will bring her home.
She’ll be asleep before I get back. I wonder if she’s noticed that she’s sleeping through the night now.
“What is it?” I ask instead of addressing her accusation.
Instead of digging in her heels, she smiles. “Art made from nail clippings,” she says, eyes sparkling.
“Please don’t give Chandni that idea,” I say on a groan and return her smile.
“Open it.” She looks so nervous, my heart squeezes.
It’s a set of six matching cups embossed with glittery dresses and shoes. “I love them!” I say. “You didn’t have to do this.” I don’t know where she got the money from, but I can’t ask.
“I know I didn’t have to.” She reads my mind and sticks up her chin.
“Prem’s mom’s friend Dolly Auntie gave me a gift card.
Apparently, engagement gifts are a thing.
I figured you were the one who had a right to that money anyway, so.
” She goes back to the chai boiling on the stove and turns it off.
“They just . . . they were just so you.”
“They are!” I say, holding a beautiful cup with both hands and pressing it to my chest. “Thank you.”
“It’s not for cuddling.” Her tone is reprimanding, but she’s smiling. “Let’s inaugurate them?”
I wash the cups, and she strains chai into them.
We bump into each other as we navigate my tiny kitchen, and it makes us both laugh. It strikes me that we are in my kitchen, but it feels like ours. Sharing space with her is different from sharing space with anyone else on earth. Every space I’m in will always also be hers.
“This is nice,” I say.
Before she can respond, her phone pings on the breakfast bar. She doesn’t notice.
I got her a phone last week, but she wasn’t exactly happy, and she’s terrible at using it. I lean over and look at it. The screen is covered in notifications.
“Rupi, your phone is filled with missed calls and unread texts. Don’t you check it when you wake up?”
“I’ll check it later.”
“It’s not a landline with an answering machine. You’re supposed to have it on you and respond in real time.”
“Who says?” she asks. “Why?”
“I don’t know, it’s a cell phone. That’s the expectation.” I have to laugh at the expression on her face. “You’re the only person on earth I know who’s managed to escape the phone-addiction epidemic.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yay poverty! I guess.” She narrows her eyes at me as soon as she says it. “That was a joke. Don’t get all pouty and sad. You know I hate feeling like something is controlling me. Who wants to be tied up with a leash all the time?”
“Apparently, all of humanity.” I pick up her phone. There are five missed calls from Prem. That ugly knife that’s been lodged in my belly twists.
Rupi reads my face. “Is it Prem? What does he want?”
How should I know? It’s not like the missed calls are on my phone. I hand it to her.
She reads the message. “I think you might want to run in and get dressed. Prem and the dark overlord are on their way.”
Right on cue, the doorbell chimes.
“Go,” Rupi says, knowing I won’t open the door in my pajamas. She’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her usual black on black setting off the bright colors inked into her arm.
When I come back out in my scrubs, showered and presentable, I’m greeted by the sight of Rupi signing papers.
When she’s done, she hands them over to Saj.
“Can you please give it some thought,” Saj says.
“No,” Rupi says.
Prem looks exhausted. His eyes get all puffy when he hasn’t been sleeping. The combination of longing and exhaustion in them makes me want to buckle at the knees. How can he look at me like this and be so distant at the same time?
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Rupi says. “Saj and Prem were just leaving.”
“What does Saj want you to think about?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Rupi says. “I’ve already told all of you that I’m not interested in going after Tina.” She turns to Saj. “You’re going to have to prove these two right about how good you are at your job and get me a new passport without bringing Tina into it.”
Saj doesn’t look happy, but he takes the papers and starts to leave.
Prem doesn’t move. “Can we talk for a minute?” he says to me.
I’m going to be late for work, but I haven’t had a moment alone with him in weeks.
“Rupi, can you walk me to my car, please?” Saj says, making Rupi sigh.
“Only if you promise not to bring Tina up.”
Saj grunts.
“And if you promise not to be so cheery.”
Instead of responding, he holds the door open for her, and she flounces out.
Prem and I are alone. He’s sitting on the rug where we’ve made out so many times. Despite everything else I’m feeling, longing tugs at my belly and pulls me toward him. I don’t move. “I can’t be late for work.” It’s the last thing I want to say, but it’s also the truth.
“I know.” He sounds like a stranger. “Why did you transfer that money to me?” He’s obviously feeling none of the things I am. He’s completely shut me out.
“It’s a lot of money. And she’s my sister.”
“I’m the one engaged to her. I should be the one to buy the ring.”
“If it were a real engagement.”
“We’re getting married, Simi. You’re the one who wanted this.”
That’s his answer? Not that it isn’t a real engagement? “You know I didn’t have a choice, Prem.” That doesn’t mean I want to lose you. Why am I not able to say that part?
The way he’s looking at me, there’s a demand in his eyes, a plea even. Why can’t I read it?
“What more do you want from me, Simi?” he says finally.
It feels like he just bodily shoved me away. He’s right. How can I want anything more from him after what he’s already given?
“I want you to let me pay for the ring.” That much I have to do.
He looks disappointed and frustrated. All these new feelings in his eyes. “You paid the hospital bill too. It’s a lot. Let me help you.” And now there’s pity too.
Between the ring and the bills, I’ve pretty much emptied out my bank account. It’s still a lot less than my sister has given up for me.
“You are helping me. You are doing more than anyone should ever have to.”
“I don’t want your gratitude, Simi!” He stands and comes to me. “Let me at least pay the damn bills.”
“And I don’t want your charity, Prem!”
He steps back. “You’re calling my love charity?”
I step closer to him. “You’re saying the only way you know how to love me is by helping me.”
“That’s not fair,” he says. Or his eyes say it. But that’s what I hear. Neither one of us is saying any of the things we want to say or need to say.
Maybe we no longer know how. I know I don’t want to hear the things I see in his eyes. That I have asked for too much. That I am using him.
“Don’t do this, Simi,” he says.
“I have to,” I say, but I’m not sure he’s talking about the bills.
My phone chimes. I’m going to be late for work. Karina’s patient is my first appointment. “We need to talk, Prem. But I have to go right now.”
“I know,” he says, but he doesn’t move. “I miss you, Simi.”
And just like that, everything else disappears.
I step closer. If I touch him, I won’t be able to pull away again. “I miss you too,” I say and cup his cheek.
That’s it. That’s all it takes. He grabs me. His hands in my hair, his mouth on my mouth. His hungry body pressed against mine. He kisses me like it’s the last time we’ll ever kiss. Like the first time we ever kissed. Everything I am is in that kiss, and he takes it.
My phone chimes again. Then chimes again. I pull away and stumble back. Leaving him is like tearing myself in half. There’s an ache deep in my belly, in my heart, between my legs. There’s a ravenous hunger in my soul.
His eyes are dilated with that same hunger. He looks destroyed, unable to speak.
“It’s Karina,” I say, looking at the name on my phone that strikes terror in my heart.
My finger is shaking when I answer. My heated body feels like it’s been dunked in ice.
“Do you think a patient appointment is a casual suggestion?” Karina’s voice says on the phone.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m on my way. The first appointment isn’t for twenty minutes.”
“Oh, so you plan on getting here with the patient? What about reviewing cases and supplies inventory?”
“Dr. Rai, I already sent you a report for both of those. I took care of it.”
“You’re opening patient records at home. That’s a HIPAA violation. Do you think rules don’t apply to you?”
“I did it before I left work yesterday.”
“Do you think I have time to butt heads with you first thing in the morning? If this is your attitude, don’t bother to show up for work today. I’m sure we can find someone else.”
She hangs up on me, leaving me unable to breathe.
Prem comes to me, but I step back. “Don’t,” I choke out. “I have to go.”
“Simi, at least tell me what’s going on. Is Karina Auntie being a problem again? Let’s call John.”
“No!” This is not Prem’s problem to solve. I don’t want to be Prem’s problem to solve. His cause to save. His burden. It’s the very last thing I wanted to be to him. “I can handle it myself.”
I grab my purse and keys and open the door to find Rupi sitting on my front step. Shit, I forgot about dropping her off at the Guptas’.
“Go,” Prem whispers behind me, still standing where I left him. “I’ll take Rupi home.”
I run to the car. I don’t know what hurts more: the fact that he just saved me again or how much I hate the idea of him taking her home.