Chapter 9
His problem? Karthik set his book down and removed his reading glasses so he could see Meghna more clearly.
“What do you mean?” he asked, puzzled at the anger on her face. Was she still mad about the kiss? If so, she had every right to be. They had a deal and he had pushed and pushed at the bounds of it. Inviting himself on the trip. Suggesting that they “practice.” And then kissing her thoroughly, even though she was only kissing him back out of obligation. To keep up appearances. To pretend. He had taken advantage of the situation. Shame and self-loathing washed over him. He deserved every ounce of her anger.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”
But instead of calming Meghna down, his words seemed to only increase her anger. “Are you … You think … you think that’s what this is about?” she sputtered. “That I’m upset because you kissed me?”
He had clearly miscalculated. “No?” he asked hesitantly.
She shook her head in frustration. “Forget it.” She climbed into bed and switched off the lights, sending the room into darkness. He inwardly sighed and lay down. He tried to fall asleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him. It kept replaying their kiss. Over and over again. And it didn’t help that Meghna was right there. In her pajamas. On that large, inviting king-sized bed. Not that she was in a particularly amorous mood. She was furious at him. He huffed out a breath. He had no one to blame for that but himself.
“Do you want the lights back on?” Meghna asked, her voice traveling through the pitch-black darkness. “I should have asked before. I know you were reading.”
“No. I’m ready to go to sleep,” he said from his spot on the floor.
They lay there in silence for a few moments.
“I really am sorry about what happened,” he said.
Meghna groaned. “Stop apologizing.”
“But I took advantage …”
“It was a good kiss, Karthik. I liked it.”
What?Warring sensations of pride and disbelief swelled in his chest.
“But I agree that it’s best we don’t do it again,” she continued. “We shouldn’t confuse this for something it isn’t.”
She was right, but he still felt a strange shot of disappointment at her words.
“We barely even get along,” she added.
“I think we get along fine,” he said stiffly.
Meghna scoffed. “Karthik, we’re completely different people. Besides, you never want to get married. And I … I want what my parents have. A partner and a friend and …”
“Love,” he said bitterly.
“Yes, love.”
“Not every marriage has love.”
“I know that,” she said. “But mine will.”
Silence descended again, and her words echoed in his head. She’d said them with such finality. Such certainty. He turned to his side, wincing at the feeling of the hard floor beneath his rib cage. He’d thought the pillow and comforter would help, but they didn’t provide as much cushion as he’d hoped.
“You think your parents still love each other?” he asked.
“Yes, they’re …” Meghna laughed. “They’re almost obnoxious about it. Constantly flirting. Hovering around each other. Samir and I used to be so embarrassed.”
“And now?”
“Well, it’s still embarrassing sometimes, but it’s also … sweet. And it’s not just them acting lovey-dovey all the time. I’ve seen them go through hard things. Through loss and grief. And I’ve watched them support each other. Rely on each other to make it through. What they have is real. A real partnership.”
He digested that. He could understand why that sounded appealing, but he couldn’t stop himself from comparing it to the example of marriage he had seen in his parents.
“Do you think your parents love—”
“No,” Karthik interrupted. He let out a harsh exhale. “I don’t think they were ever in love.”
He waited a few seconds, then continued. “My dad wasn’t exactly … present when I was younger. He still isn’t, but … well, you’ve met him.”
“I have.”
“I can’t imagine that my mother ever loved him. Or that he ever loved her, but maybe they did. Once. I don’t know.”
“Were they arranged?”
“They were.”
“Is that why you’re so against getting an arranged marriage?”
“I’m not opposed to getting an arranged marriage. I’m opposed to getting married. Any kind of married.”
“But why? I know your parents’ marriage may not have been … what you want, exactly, but that doesn’t mean you have to write it off completely.”
But it did. How could he explain that it wasn’t the concept of marriage that he necessarily had a problem with? The problem was with him. And his father. He’d neglected Karthik’s mother. Neglected both of them. And during the few moments his father had been home, he had been harsh with them. His temper was so fragile and unpredictable. The smallest comment would make him blow up.
Karthik had sworn he would never be like him. And he had worked to undo his damage. He learned how to make his mother laugh. How to lift her moods. How to listen to her when she needed a friend. But his efforts always seemed to be in vain. She’d smile and seem happy around him, but it all disappeared when his father got home. In his presence, she almost appeared smaller. Softer. Quieter. Like she was shrinking herself down. Karthik had promised he would never do that to anyone. Would never belittle or diminish anyone in that way.
But as he’d gotten older, he’d found himself snapping at people. Blowing up at the slightest thing. And every year, the mirror revealed the growing resemblance between him and his father. It was like he couldn’t help it. No matter what he did, he was slowly morphing into him. Karthik had been desperate to control his temper, but no matter what he tried, he was unable to stop it. And then, one day, he’d blown up at his mother.
Like always, he felt a bitter sense of shame as he remembered that fight.
She’d mentioned the idea of Karthik having an arranged marriage for the first time, and his anger had exploded. Like some pressure valve within him had finally opened. He’d said things he could never take back. Like, how could she want that for him when it had worked out like this for her? How could she stay in such a horrible marriage? How could she think he would ever want a marriage like hers? He had apologized almost immediately. Deeply regretted all of it. And she’d quietly accepted. She didn’t bring up the topic of arranged marriage again for years. But the next time she did, he played along, desperate not to wound her again. Even though his feelings about marriage hadn’t changed.
After that, everything had shifted for him. He learned how to bury those feelings of rage. Learned to push them down, further and further, until it became second nature to suppress that anger. To suppress all of it. And he’d known that he could never put himself in a position where he could hurt someone like that again. Never put himself in a position where he might repeat his father’s behavior.
“I’ll never get married,” he told Meghna icily. “You should stop trying to change my mind.”
“I’m not trying to change it. I’m just trying to better understand …” She let out a loud breath. “Never mind. Good night.”
“Good night,” he replied, relieved that she was finally dropping it. He closed his eyes. He was incredibly tired, but something wouldn’t allow him to fall asleep. The minutes passed and he realized he didn’t want to end their conversation on this uncomfortable note. The mattress creaked as she shifted on the bed.
“Are you asleep?” he whispered.
“Not yet,” she said with a sigh.
“How’s your play going?”
She was silent for a moment. “The one I’m writing or the one my students are doing?”
“Both.”
“Well, the performance is in a few weeks and we’re nowhere near ready. I’m hoping it all comes together, but I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. But the kids are working really hard and they seem to be having fun.”
“That’s good.”
“And the one I’m writing … well, it’s slow going. I’ve been working on it for years.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Since college.”
Ah. “This is the one Seth’s been giving feedback on?”
“Yes. He has. Although …”
“Although what?”
“Nothing. He just hasn’t … It’s been a busy time for him.”
“I’m sure,” he said. “What kind of feedback do you guys give each other?”
“Oh, just notes on what we like. What we don’t like. Suggestions on what might work better.”
“Hmm.” He rolled to his back, placing a hand under his head.
“It’s really helpful. I’ve reworked so much and made it all so much better thanks to Seth’s comments. Honestly, I don’t know if I’d still be writing if it wasn’t for Seth. There have been so many times that I’ve thought about quitting. That I’ve almost given up. But he’s always been there for me. Always encouraged me to keep going.”
Karthik felt a pinch beneath his sternum. He ran his fingers over the spot, not sure what had caused it. “I’m sure his songs have benefited from your help too.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I only make small tweaks. Or suggest changes. Seth’s the real creative genius.”
Karthik sincerely doubted that, but didn’t argue the point. “He made it sound like you’d done more than that. That you’d written the bridge on his last song?” Karthik didn’t know music well enough to know what the “bridge” was, but Seth had acted like it had made the song what it was.
“Kind of. I just texted a few lines. But it was only a suggestion. I had no idea he’d actually use it.”
“Well, it sounded like he used it. And that it was a success.”
“I guess so.”
“Do you ever get songwriting credit?”
“No. That wouldn’t be … I’m not a songwriter.”
“But it sounds like you’ve written parts of songs.”
“It’s not the same thing. They’re Seth’s songs.”
Karthik was starting to doubt that also, but he didn’t want to push it. He had wanted to end the night on a better note, and he wasn’t about to start a fight over whether Seth was undervaluing her. Though he so clearly was.
“Well, I’m looking forward to listening to them.” His comforter rustled as he shifted again, still unable to find a good position.
“You are?” She sounded surprised, but he couldn’t quite tell. Her normally expressive face was shrouded in darkness.
“Yes. Didn’t you say you’d send me some?”
“Yeah, I did. I’ll send them tomorrow.” She was quiet for a moment. “Are you … are you okay over there?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It just sounded like you were moving around a lot.” She cleared her throat. “And we never talked about who would sleep on the floor. I mean, it was nice of you to offer, but you don’t seem … It doesn’t sound like it’s that comfortable.”
He held his breath.
“You could, uh, sleep here. If you wanted. I mean, the bed is huge. We could just, you know, stick to our sides of it.” The mattress creaked again, as if she was moving over to give him space.
This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But he wasn’t able to think rationally anymore. He was so tired. And there was a warm, large bed in the room. A warm, large bed with Meghna in it. And if she was fine with him sleeping there, who was he to fight it?
“Okay.” He picked up his pillow and fumbled around in the darkness.
“Should I switch on the lights?”
“No, it’s fine. I got it,” he said as his hand brushed against the edge of the bed, the comforter, and then a soft shape underneath it.
“Sorry,” he said automatically, pulling his hand back like he’d been burned.
“For what?” her voice called from the opposite side of the bed.
His gaze swung wildly in the dark. That hadn’t been her? He tentatively reached out to touch the soft shape again, only to discover it was a stack of pillows, lying exactly where a body would be.
“Why are the pillows like this?”
“They’re a barricade. You know, to split the bed in half.”
“They’re all the way on my side,” he said.
“Well, push them into the middle, then.”
He did, pushing them over and climbing into bed. Once he lay down, he began to understand the wisdom of the pillow barrier. Her breaths were so loud, just inches away from him. His mind filled with thoughts of reaching over. Closing the scant distance between them. Kissing her again. Finishing what they’d started.
The pillows were a helpful reminder that nothing would happen. That nothing could happen. A physical line in the sand between them.
“Is this better?” she asked, and he almost groaned. This was better. And worse. More comfortable than the ground, but torturous in an entirely different way.
“Yes,” he said through his teeth. “Much better.” He stretched his body, making sure to stay on his side. The soft mattress enveloped him, and he relaxed, allowing himself to sink farther into it.
She let out a loud yawn, and some of the tension within him eased at the sound. “Good night, Meghna.”
“Good night, Karthik.”
After a few minutes, sleep finally caught up with him. He shut his eyes and didn’t wake up until morning.
The next morning Meghna discovered, to her absolute horror, that she was sleeping on top of something soft. And warm. And cuddly.
She hoped for a second that she was just lying on top of the pillow barricade, but suddenly the soft, warm, cuddly thing beneath her moved, and she realized it couldn’t have been the pillows. It was Karthik.
She opened her eyes slowly and tilted her head up, relieved to see that his eyes were still shut. His breathing was slow and even. She did a mental assessment of the situation, trying to determine the best way to get out of bed without waking him up and alerting him to their accidental cuddling.
Her upper body lay across his torso, and he had one arm wrapped around her, his hand resting against her lower back. Their legs were tangled together, with his thigh firmly between her legs. She shifted backward slightly, but his body followed with her, his arm tightening and his thigh somehow pressing even closer. She held back an involuntary moan.
She had to get out of here. Now. She turned her head to the side, scowling when she saw the stack of pillows behind her. Traitors. They had absolutely let her down. Her brain took that moment to inform her that if the pillows were behind her that meant she had been the one to roll over and invade Karthik’s side of the bed, but she refused to accept that. It was too early for logic.
She tried to scoot backward again, but her back pressed up against the pillows, giving her nowhere to go. Another betrayal!
She made a noise of frustration, and Karthik’s eyes shot open. Great. She steeled herself for what was to come.
“Hey,” he said, his voice gravelly and rough.
“Uh, hi.”
He blinked, took stock of their position, then scrambled out from under her. “I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. “No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who, uh, rolled over in the night. It was my fault.”
He cleared his throat, getting out of bed. “It’s fine.” He walked over to his suitcase, then gestured toward the bathroom without looking in her direction. “I’m just going to take a shower. I’ll, uh, be right back.”
When the bathroom door closed, Meghna jumped out of bed, rushing to change out of her pajamas. She didn’t want to look all disheveled when he emerged from the shower looking fresh and put together and … She started to sweat. Why did he have to be so good-looking? She was shucking off her pajama shorts and searching for her jeans when the bathroom door opened.
“I just wanted to say—” Karthik stopped, his eyes growing wide, and Meghna shrieked.
“Turn around!”
He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Why are you in your underwear?”
“I’m changing! Why weren’t you in the shower?”
“I was just going to say, umm, that it wasn’t your fault. It was nice of you to share the bed. So, thank you. And uh, it’s fine that you … that we …”
“Oh my God,” she groaned.
“Okay. I’m going back in.” He shut the door behind him.
She sat back down on the bed, punching the pillows. It was all their fault.
Ten minutes later, Karthik opened the bathroom door, clearing his throat loudly before stepping outside. Meghna rolled her eyes.
“I’m decent,” she called, zipping her suitcase closed.
He finished packing, and they left the room with their luggage in tow. They met up with Seth and the rest of the guys for a quick breakfast, but avoided making eye contact with each other. Thankfully, no one else seemed to sense anything was off. Seth monopolized her time with questions about a song he was working on, and Meghna appreciated the distraction. This was probably the last time she’d see him before the wedding. Her chest constricted but she pushed the thought to the side, trying to soak up every minute of his attention. The way he listened to her. Responded to her feedback. Asked for her opinion like he really cared what she thought.
He tried out a new line and it was so bad it made her laugh. She shook her head, grinning widely, and caught Karthik looking at her, his eyes dark and focused. Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t help but remember the way he’d looked first thing in the morning. That moment his eyes had snapped open. The way his arm had tightened around her before he’d jumped away like she was on fire.
She sipped her orange juice. It tasted acidic and bitter as it traveled down her throat. He probably regretted everything about this morning. The same way he had regretted their kiss.
She’d been flustered. Mortified. But she didn’t regret it. In another set of circumstances, in some imaginary fantasy where they wanted the same things, she would have loved to have woken up to Karthik’s arms around her. To his scratchy stubble against her cheek. To a good-morning kiss. Maybe more.
The waiter came by with everyone’s checks, dragging her back to reality. She reached for her purse but caught Karthik out of the corner of her eye, dropping a credit card to cover his bill and hers. She gave him a quizzical look, and he subtly nodded toward Seth.
She flushed. Of course. He was just keeping up appearances. Behaving like her fiancé. She took a deep breath and straightened in her seat. It didn’t matter that she found him wildly attractive. Didn’t matter that she had wanted the kiss to be real. They had an agreement, and she couldn’t lose sight of that. If Karthik could push past the lingering embarrassment and stick to the plan, so could she.
They said their goodbyes to everyone, Seth swept her up in one last hug, and then she and Karthik shared a cab to the airport.
“So …” he started, once the two of them were alone in the car.
“So,” she said, doing her best to sound calm. “We’re going to pretend like none of that happened.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
He nodded. “Okay, then.”
They were silent for the rest of the drive. And when they parted ways for their separate flights, Meghna stuck out her hand.
Karthik reached out to shake it, a bemused expression on his face.
“See you at the wedding,” she said firmly.
“Right. I guess that’s the next time we’ll see each other.”
“It is.”
He rocked back on his heels. “Well, have a safe flight.”
“You too.” She waved a final goodbye, then turned and headed for her gate. The back of her neck warmed, and she was tempted to take one last look at him over her shoulder. To see if he was watching her. To try to catch some unguarded, genuine expression on his face.
But she resisted, keeping her eyes firmly locked ahead. Looking back was pointless. There was nothing between the two of them. Nothing at all.