Chapter 13
Meghna’s thumb hovered over Seth’s contact in her phone. She’d started and deleted several emails and text messages over the past few days, but hadn’t been able to properly put what she had to tell him into words. After struggling to come up with some kind of feedback for Seth, Meghna had finally reached the conclusion that Karthik had been right. Seth’s song was unsalvageable.
She just wasn’t sure how to tell him that. He’d never had this issue before. Sure, not everything he’d written had been perfect from the first draft, but none of them had ever been this horrible. Meghna took a deep breath and pressed the call button before she could change her mind. He answered almost immediately.
“Meg? Hey! We were just talking about you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, Jules is here too. I’m passing the phone to her. Say hi, Julie!”
“Hi, Meghna!” Julie’s voice, bright and clear, came over the line. “It’s nice to meet you. Well, meet you over the phone. But I’m excited to meet you in person soon. Seth’s told me so much about you!”
Meghna paused, her stomach twisting. She hadn’t expected to have to talk to Julie until the wedding. Besides the picture and meet-cute story on their wedding website, she didn’t know much about her.
According to the story, Seth and Julie had met at an industry party in Nashville. Julie was an up-and-coming singer-songwriter new to the city, and Seth had promised to show her around. A few months later, Julie’s profile skyrocketed after a single she released online went viral. She was still pretty new on the scene, but everyone recognized that she was a star on the rise. Some major outlets had even drawn comparisons between her and Taylor Swift. Shortly after Julie’s viral success, Seth had proposed to her in Centennial Park, and now they were getting married there.
“Hey, Julie, it’s nice to meet you too.”
“My maid of honor and I were just talking about how good everyone’s dresses turned out, but then Seth sent us that picture of your tux and we were floored. Beth—that’s my maid of honor—is so mad at me now. She thinks she should get to wear one too, and honestly, I have to agree with her. It looks incredible. But we’ve already ordered her dress, so she’s stuck with it! But really, it looks so good on you.”
“Thanks,” Meghna said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She appreciated Julie’s kind words, but couldn’t help but feel awkward. “I’m happy with how it turned out too.”
“Anyway, I have to run so I’ll hop off now, but just wanted to say hello!”
“Bye, Julie. Look forward to meeting you soon.”
There was a quiet shuffling noise as the phone was passed to Seth. His voice came on the line, giving Meghna a sudden pulse of anxiety.
“Okay, I’m back,” he said.
“Great. Umm, Julie seems really nice.”
“She’s wonderful. You guys will totally get along. She reminds me a lot of you, actually.”
Ouch. His words stung, but Meghna tried to move forward. “Anyway, I know I owe you some feedback on the song. Sorry it’s taken me so long.”
“No problem. I mean, I’ve been taking forever with your stuff too. It’s just this one has a tight deadline, you know.” He barked out a short laugh, and Meghna gritted her teeth.
“Right. Well, I had a chance to read through it, and it’s … different from your usual songs.”
The line was quiet for a few seconds. “Different in a good way or …”
“Umm. Just different.” Meghna decided to change tack. “What parts of the song are you most looking forward to singing to Julie?”
He asked for a moment so he could pull up the lyrics, then went quiet as he presumably read through it. “All of it, I guess.”
Meghna closed her eyes. “I think it might be worth thinking through exactly what you want to tell her with this song and then maybe taking another stab at it.”
“You want me to start over?” he asked, genuine surprise in his voice.
“Not necessarily,” she hedged. “Maybe just reflect for a bit before revising. Or start over if you think that’s easier.” He had given her similar advice over the years. Whenever a scene wasn’t working and she just couldn’t figure out why, it often helped to start from scratch, to go back to a clean slate. But though she’d benefited from that advice, she’d never suggested that he do the same. She’d never thought his songs had needed it.
“So, you hate it,” he said flatly.
“No, not at all. I just … You’re a great writer, Seth. And I think you’re capable of more.”
He was silent for a bit. Then a loud huff of breath traveled through the phone. “Okay. Well, thanks. And thanks for the feedback.”
The call clicked, signaling it was over, and Meghna stared at her phone in confusion. Had he just hung up on her?
He’d never done that before. He’d never responded to feedback from her that way. He tended to be a little sensitive, to pout a bit when she delivered constructive criticism, but she’d never seen him truly get upset. Or react like this. Maybe she’d been too blunt. Maybe she’d hurt his feelings. She felt an overwhelming urge to call him back and apologize, but resisted, thinking it over for a moment. Seth had asked her for her opinion, and she’d given it. Nicely. Far more nicely than he had given feedback to her over the years.
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had done something wrong. She almost called Seth back, but changed her mind at the last second, scrolling to a different name in her phone. It rang a few times, and her heart thudded for a moment. Then Karthik answered.
His voice was deep and urgent. “Meghna, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing. Why?”
“I wasn’t expecting a call from you. Sorry, I just assumed it was an emergency or …” Karthik cleared his throat. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. I’m fine.”
“Good. Me too.”
She waited a second, then blurted it out in a rush. “I told Seth.”
“Told him …”
“About the song.”
“Ah.” There was some rustling, as if he was moving around, then the creak and click of a door closing. “How did it go?”
“Not great. He …” She let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “He hung up on me.”
“He what?” The words were harsh. And a bit angry?
“Yeah. It could have been an accident, but—”
“I doubt that.”
“I think I hurt his feelings.”
He exhaled a loud breath. “What did you tell him?”
“That he should think through some things and try revising. Or starting over.”
“And that’s it?”
She thought back to the call and ran it over in her head. “Yeah, pretty much.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Did you yell at him?”
“No.”
“Call him names?”
“No.”
“Really?” Then he muttered something that sounded a lot like, I would have.
“I feel bad about it,” she said. “I almost called him back, but …”
“But what?”
“I called you instead.”
He sighed loudly, but now his voice sounded softer.
“Meghna, do your feelings ever get hurt when Seth gives you feedback?”
Yes. Meghna stopped, surprised by how quickly that response had come. Seth’s feedback had hurt her feelings before. Honestly, most of his feedback hurt her feelings. He was blunt and direct, but that was just the way he was. The way he’d always been.
“Yes, but that’s different.”
“Why?”
She thought about it, but struggled to put it into words. “It just is.”
“Look, I don’t know anything about this process other than what you’ve told me, but it sounds like you did what you were supposed to do. And maybe his feelings were hurt, but that probably comes with the territory. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I guess.”
A beat passed. “You doing okay otherwise?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” She’d been wanting to ask that since he’d returned to New York. She had no idea how he was doing with the news of his father, or if he’d talked to his mother. But she didn’t want to pry. Or pressure him to share.
“I’m doing okay.” He paused. “Can I call you back tonight? And talk some more then? I stepped out of a meeting, but I should get back now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have checked to see if you were—”
“Don’t worry about it. I decided to take the call. You have nothing to be sorry about. And you don’t need to apologize to Seth, either, okay?”
“Okay. But I really am sorry—I mean, I didn’t want to disturb your workday. I should have checked the time, but I—”
“Meghna?”
“Yes?”
“Call me any time you want.”
A nervous but giddy sensation swept through her. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tonight, then.”
“Okay.”
He hung up, and Meghna sat there for some time. Processing.
She’d once believed that Karthik was cold. Robotic. Even rude. But she was starting to think that he never intended to be that way. Seth, on the other hand, had always been warm. Bright. Silly. Fun. He’d understood her and her writing, which she’d never shared with anyone else before. She’d felt supported by him. Safe.
But recently, talking to Seth felt a lot like walking on eggshells. Or a game of the-floor-is-lava. Hopping from topic to topic, trying to stick to the safe areas, hoping not to get burned.
Meghna ran her fingers over her phone, thinking again about calling Seth. Karthik was right. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t need to apologize, but maybe she could try to smooth things over. Unruffle some feathers. Make things return to the way they had been.
She almost dialed the number, then stopped, setting the phone down and walking away. Maybe she’d try to talk to him another time, but she wouldn’t be doing it today.
“My apologies,” Karthik said as he stepped back into his meeting with Jim. “I thought it was an emergency.”
“You seem to be having a lot of those,” Jim said, his tone even, though not entirely unkind.
Karthik held back a wince. “I really am sorry about that. I was unwell that day, but that’s no excuse. I should have explained myself. Or at least tried to before walking out. I’ve never done anything like that before and I never will again.”
Jim nodded, his face open and thoughtful.
“I’m prepared for this position, Jim. I’m a hard worker. I’m dedicated to this company. And my team. And I have so many ideas I’d like to share with you. I know I’m asking for a lot, but you won’t regret giving me another chance.”
Jim blew out a breath. “People get sick. It happens. I just wish you would have told us what was going on. But I take Marianne’s recommendation seriously, and you’ve never given us a reason to doubt you before.” He paused. “I’ll talk to the panel, but I can’t make any promises. If they agree to redo the interview, just know that I won’t be able to do it again.”
“I understand,” Karthik replied solemnly.
The atmosphere in the room relaxed a degree, and Karthik segued into a discussion about last year’s most successful projects. The conversation somehow went well, and when it was over, Karthik felt confident things were back on track. Jim had seemed impressed and had casually mentioned that Karthik should block out some dates to meet with the rest of the panel.
Karthik headed back to his office, passing by Paul’s cubicle on the way. Paul stuck his head out and raised his eyebrows as if to ask how the meeting had gone. Karthik flashed him a thumbs-up, and Paul mimed fist-pumping the air in celebration. The silly action brought a reluctant grin to Karthik’s face.
As he settled back at his desk, Karthik’s phone chimed with an incoming text message.
Karthik stared at the screen in confusion. Paul wanted to get drinks? Outside the office? With him? Karthik’s first instinct was to politely decline. To say no. But as he debated how to phrase it, another message popped up.
Karthik’s brows knit. Well, that changed things. He wasn’t sure what the intern wanted, but after everything Paul had done for him, the least Karthik could do was hear him out.
Paul sent some kind of emoji that made confetti burst across Karthik’s phone screen, and Karthik shook his head, not sure what he’d just agreed to.
Later, after the workday was over, Karthik arrived at the address Paul had texted. It was exactly the sort of place he’d imagined. A new, trendy spot manufactured to look as if it were run-down, with exposed brick and Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
“Over here,” Paul called from a spot in the corner. Karthik headed toward him, perking up when he saw two lattes already on the table, each with a sprig of lavender floating on top.
“So, this is where the coffee comes from,” Karthik said as he took a seat.
“Yeah. It’s right down the street. Makes it easy.” Paul lifted his mug, clinking it against Karthik’s. “And cheers, man. I’m glad everything went well today.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“And everything else is good now, right? With the job? And, uh, your dad?” Paul swallowed, his expression turning somewhat nervous. “I mean, you don’t have to answer that. Or say anything. It’s just … About what happened before, I shouldn’t have brought up the whole situation with your dad. I wasn’t even really sure he was your dad and I had no idea your interview was supposed to be that day, but still, it wasn’t any of my business and I’m so sorry. Though I guess it sounds like it’s all working out, but I still shouldn’t have—”
“Paul,” Karthik interrupted, his voice a shade louder than usual. “It’s fine.” Paul’s mouth slammed shut, and Karthik felt the need to clarify. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “But I appreciate you saying that.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Paul hesitated, as if he was about to say something more, but he seemed to change his mind, glancing away instead.
Karthik waited, but Paul remained silent, forcing Karthik to continue the conversation. “And are you … doing well? With school and stuff?”
Paul gave Karthik a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “Uh, yeah. Things are fine. I mean, this semester’s kicking my ass, but that’s what happens when we get closer to finals.”
“When are they?”
“In a few weeks.”
“Good. Well, umm, study hard.” Karthik cleared his throat. “Is that what you wanted help with? Because it’s been a while since I was in school, but I could probably …”
Paul let out a rough laugh, shaking his head. “No. No. It’s nothing like that.” He looked down at the ground, his foot tapping rapidly against the floor. He seemed nervous for some reason, and Karthik couldn’t figure out why.
“Paul, are you … okay? Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you …” Paul reached for his drink, taking a long sip of his coffee, as if he needed it to gain courage. To give him the strength to say what he needed to say.
Karthik raised his mug to take a sip of his own. He was still swallowing when Paul finally asked his question.
“I, uh, wanted to ask you … How do you know if you’re in love?”
Karthik choked, coffee gurgling in the back of his throat. He grabbed a paper napkin, but managed to gain control of himself, narrowly avoiding sputtering his drink across the table.
“What?” he croaked once he’d recovered.
Paul groaned. “God, I knew this would be embarrassing. I’m sorry. It’s just … I didn’t know who else to ask. My parents aren’t together anymore and none of my friends are in serious relationships. And I really like my girlfriend. Like, a lot, but I’m not sure if … if it’s love.”
“And you decided to ask me because …”
“Because you’ve got it all figured out. With your fiancée, I mean. You seem so happy.”
Karthik’s surprise almost made him choke again. He must have gotten better at faking it than he’d thought.
“Well,” he started, unsure how to even begin to answer Paul’s question. “That’s because Meghna is … special. She’s, uh, the one.”
“Right,” Paul said impatiently. “But how did you know? How did you know that she was the one?”
“I just … did.”
Paul looked at him skeptically, and Karthik scrambled to come up with something more believable. “Love can’t be explained, Paul. It’s just … It’s wanting to be around the other person. And … wanting to talk to them. It’s wanting to hear about their day and tell them about yours. It’s doing everything in your power to make them happy, even if it comes at a cost. Even if it means denying yourself or sacrificing something so that they can be happy. So that they can get what they want. It’s caring about them more than you care about yourself and showing them how much you care. Every day.”
Karthik stopped, taking a deep breath. He’d probably just bumbled the whole thing. Just made it clear that he knew nothing about love. That his entire relationship was a fraud. But Paul didn’t seem to be calling his bluff. He was just watching him, quiet and thoughtful.
“Is that how you feel?” Karthik asked. “About your girlfriend?”
Paul waited a moment, then sighed. “I don’t know, man. That all sounds a little too intense for me.”
Karthik shrugged, relieved as the conversation drifted on to lighter topics. Paul regaled him with bits of office gossip and rumors, then shocked Karthik when he got up and gave him a quick hug and slap on the shoulder before saying goodbye.
Karthik walked back to his apartment a bit bemused by the whole experience. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was just thankful he’d been able to come up with something on the fly when Paul had asked that absurd question. He put the strange conversation out of his mind as he unlocked his door and grabbed some leftover takeout from the fridge. Then he dialed Meghna’s number, making good on his earlier promise to call her back.
She answered, and his shoulders relaxed at the sound of her voice. She asked about his day, and Karthik filled her in on the conversation with Jim.
“So, you feel like you got the job?”
“It’s way too early to tell,” he said. “But I’m still in the running. At least, Jim made it sound like I was. Fingers crossed I’ll get another interview with the panel.”
“Well, that’s still great news.”
“Thanks.” He cleared his throat.
“How’s, uh, everything else? Everything with your family?”
Karthik sank a bit farther into the couch. “I don’t know. I talked with my mom.”
“How’d it go?”
“She didn’t react at all.”
“I— I don’t … What do you mean?”
He closed his eyes. “She didn’t want to talk about it. I asked if there was anything she needed, anything I could do, but she said no, and I just felt so … so … useless.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said immediately.
“I know. But I’m still sorry.” She exhaled softly. “I don’t think there is anything else for you to do. Other than be there for her. And it sounds like you’re doing that.”
“But it doesn’t feel—” A lump rose in his throat. He tried to swallow the uncomfortable sensation down. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
She didn’t say anything, but her gentle breathing told him she was still on the line. The quiet companionship made him feel a little less alone.
“Thanks,” he said.
“For what?”
“For listening.”
“Anytime.”
He sat there for a moment, looking down at the plate on his lap. His food had gotten cold. He went to stick the plate back in the microwave.
“Hey. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“Why does Seth call you ‘Meg’?”
She didn’t respond for a second, so Karthik continued. “Is that what you prefer to be called? Would you want me to call you that?”
“No. I mean … It’s just … Seth’s the only one who calls me that.”
Karthik’s chest tightened. “Oh. Okay.”
She sighed. “It wasn’t my idea. He had a hard time pronouncing my name at first, so he shortened it.”
Karthik paused, then scoffed. “How hard did he try? Your name’s pretty easy.”
“I know.”
“Two syllables. It doesn’t get much easier than that.”
“Yeah.”
“You should tell him to say your name properly.”
“Maybe. But it’s been so long. And I’ve gotten used to it at this point.”
“But do you like it?”
She was quiet for a second. “It’s fine.”
“All right, Meg.”
“Ugh. No. Don’t you dare call me that.”
Karthik laughed. “Fine. I won’t. But you know, you can tell Seth exactly what you just told me.”
“Maybe,” she said hesitantly.
He took his plate out of the microwave and headed back to the couch. “Are there nicknames you do like? Or does everyone call you Meghna?”
“Pretty much. I mean, Mom calls me ‘beta,’ but that’s it.”
“Really?” He brought a forkful of lo mein to his mouth. “You and Ankita don’t have special names for each other?”
“No. Do you have any nicknames?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Well, then, I think we should give each other some.”
Karthik paused, his fork mid-twirl in the noodles. “Like what?”
“Hmm. Kar? Karth?”
No way. He hated both of them. They sounded … fine, but they weren’t him.
“Yeah, no,” he said. “I think we’re both on the same page about not liking shortened versions of our names.”
She snorted, and he smiled at the sound. He took a bite of his food and suddenly thought of something.
“Since we’re engaged, shouldn’t our nicknames be more like terms of endearment? We can use them when we’re at Seth’s wedding. Just to convince people, I mean.”
“I guess …” she said slowly. “Do you have any ideas?”
“‘Honey’?”
“Yuck.”
He laughed. “Okay, so not that. ‘Dear’? ‘Babe’?”
“‘Babe’? Karthik, please be serious.”
“You try coming up with some, then!”
“Fine! Umm, my parents call each other ‘jaan,’ but I don’t think we should use that one.”
He tried to place the word, but his Hindi was extremely limited.
“What does it mean?”
“Life. Like the other person is their life.”
He considered it for a moment. He couldn’t imagine calling someone else his life. Couldn’t imagine someone else being so vital, so necessary, so …
“What about ‘darling’?” she asked.
He made a face. “Too cowboy.”
“What?” She laughed, and the sound of it warmed him from the inside out. “What does that mean?”
“Can’t you hear it? You’re the Texan. It sounds like something a cowboy would say with a piece of straw in his mouth.” He did his best imitation of a southern drawl. “Howdy, darlin’.”
Peals of laughter burst on the other end of the call. “Please say that again,” she said in between breaths. “You have to.”
“Never. Once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
She let out one final laugh. “Okay. Fine. No ‘darling.’”
“Sweetheart” and “love” popped into his head. He was about to mention them, but stopped himself. They both felt too intimate. Too real.
“Maybe we should just let one come up organically,” he suggested.
“Maybe.”
They said nothing for a few seconds until Meghna indicated she needed to hop off the call. After hanging up, Karthik finished his dinner by himself, like he had so many nights in the past, but for some reason, the act felt so much lonelier than it ever had before.
Three days later, an email from Seth arrived in Meghna’s inbox. It contained no apology or explanation for why he had hung up on her before. In fact, the email contained nothing in the subject line or body of the message. Just an attached document with brand-new lyrics for her review. She scanned the song quickly. It was completely different and at first glance, much better than the old one.
She closed her laptop, stretching her legs out on her couch. It had been a long day at work, and she’d planned to watch some mindless television, but reached for her phone instead.
“Hey. Is this a good time?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Karthik said, slightly out of breath. “I’m just at the gym.”
“Oh. I can call you back later if that’s—”
“No.” Some electronic beeps played in her ear. “It’s fine. I’m slowing down the treadmill. What’s up?”
“Nothing really. Seth sent me a new song to look at.”
“Yeah? Is it any good?”
“I can’t tell yet, but so far it seems better than the last one.”
“Good. That’s good.” He wasn’t quite panting, but his breaths were loud and harsh and quick.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said. “Jim told me I’ll get that re-interview with the panel. It’s good news, but they’re asking for more this time. A big presentation. A final pitch on why I should get the job and what my vision for the HVAC department is going forward.”
“Congrats! How are you feeling?”
He blew out a breath. “Good, I think. Nervous, but good. It’ll be a lot of work, but I have some ideas already. Some projects I’ve had in mind for a while. There’s a new method of computer modeling I want the company to implement. I think it’ll help us better analyze whether the ventilation system we’ve designed has any flaws that need to be addressed. But there are a couple different softwares out there and I want to test them out before pitching one to the company. I was going to start working on it this afternoon, but I got distracted. My, uh, dad called me.”
“Oh. What did … What did he say?”
He sighed loudly. “I didn’t answer. I got angry just seeing his name on the screen and didn’t think it was a good idea to talk to him in that state. But I called my mom, just to check in on her.”
“Yeah? Is she doing okay?”
“Fine. Or at least she’s acting like everything’s normal and fine. But it’s obviously not. I mean, my dad never calls me, so something must have happened. I asked if he’d told her anything, but she changed the subject.”
“Maybe … Maybe it’s worth calling him back?” she asked hesitantly. “To see what he wanted?”
“Maybe. At the very least, I should stop by the house. Just to make sure Amma’s okay. I don’t know if she’s in denial or what, but she didn’t sound like herself.”
“It’s probably a lot for her to process.”
“You’re right. I guess I just wanted something … more from her. Shock. Anger. Rage. Something.” A frustrated sound escaped him. “But it’s not like she’s ever really reacted to his behavior before. She’s always accepted it. Put up with it.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine that,” Meghna said. “I obviously don’t know her very well, but at that dinner at your house she seemed to speak her mind. Especially when your dad left early.”
“Yeah. But he’s always doing things like that. Leaving early. Not showing up at all. I think she only said something because you were there.” He laughed humorlessly. “Not a good look for the daughter-in-law, you know? Appearances and all that.”
Meghna didn’t think that was the only reason. His mother didn’t seem like the type to care too much about what others thought. And from the way Karthik had described her, she was quite resilient.
“I’m worried about her,” he continued, somewhat quietly. “And I don’t know what to do to make things better.”
“I know,” she said softly.
They were quiet for a moment until Karthik asked her how her work was going.
“It’s going okay,” she said. “The board’s signed off on a larger budget for the spring play. And they’ve asked me to put it together.”
“Of course they did,” he said. “How could they not after your last success?” His praise traveled through her, warm and shimmery, sparking little bursts of pleasure. “Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. I love the kids. And I had fun working with them, but I need to think about it a bit more. The principal’s really trying to convince me, though. She said I could get more volunteer help from the parents this time so I won’t have to do it all alone, and she’s letting me choose the musical.”
“Anything you’d want to pick?”
“I’m not sure.” She hadn’t really thought about it yet.
“What’s your favorite?”
Ugh.Such a hard question. A few contenders came to mind, but Fiddler on the Roof jumped to the very top. He wasn’t familiar with it, so she described the plot, and it reminded her why she loved that musical so much in the first place. It wrestled with themes that were all too familiar to her own life. Family and tradition and the conflict that came with changing ideas about marriage and love.
“I think I’d like that one,” he said.
“You should go see it. Or watch the movie.”
“Maybe,” he said.
They talked for a few more minutes until his workout was done and he said he was leaving the gym. She expected him to hang up, but he stayed on the line as he walked back to his apartment. He continued asking her about different plays and musicals until Meghna found herself yawning and growing sleepy. She kept her phone on speaker as she got ready for bed, discussing her favorite plays and why he needed to see them. When she climbed under the covers, she placed the phone next to her pillow, keeping it in speaker mode, and they continued talking late into the night.
After that, they somehow ended up talking almost every day for the next two weeks. One time, Karthik saw someone walking down the street in a silly, punny T-shirt and just had to tell her about it. Another night, Meghna read an article about the most popular terms of endearment and called him to discuss. They still couldn’t settle on ones to use for each other, but they’d laughed over the silliest ones on the list.
Over the weekend, Karthik looked up last-minute tickets for Broadway shows and went by himself to see Les Misérables. He called her the moment he walked out of the theater, his voice full of excitement as he described the performance as “gripping” and “gritty” and “breathtaking.” As Meghna listened to him, something soft and tender swept through her. They chatted for his entire walk home about their favorite moments and songs.
He called one night after he went by his parents’ house to check on his mother. They’d played a round of cards and his mother had ended up winning, like she always did. The two of them had spent a lot of weeknights in his childhood that way. After he’d left for college, his mother had joined a local group of women who played twenty-eight, the popular Indian card game. She’d only gotten better and better over the years.
Karthik had tried to press her, tried to bring up his dad, but his mother refused to give him any insight into how she was feeling. She just said everything would work out and that Karthik didn’t need to worry about it. Meghna expressed her sympathy and shared his frustration that his mother still didn’t seem to care about what had happened with his father at all.
Meghna called him after she finished reviewing and editing Seth’s song, saying it was one of his best yet. And it truly was. She didn’t know what had happened with the last one, but Seth’s new song was somehow sweet without being saccharine, and reading it had honestly given her goose bumps.
Karthik said he was glad the new song was better, then asked her how her own play was going. She evaded his questions, saying she had been too busy to work on it, but he kept digging.
“Does your play have songs in it?” he asked.
“No. It’s not a musical.”
“You know, I’ve only ever seen musicals.”
“Yeah. Two whole musicals,” she teased.
He snorted. “Fair enough. But I should go see a play soon.”
“I think you’d like it.”
“But there aren’t any dance numbers.”
She laughed. “No. No dance numbers.”
“I think I’d miss it. Being raised on Tamil movies has made me expect people to break out into song and dance every once in a while,” he said.
“Hindi movies are the same way, though I never made that connection before. Maybe that’s why I love musicals so much.”
“Could be,” he said. “You know, with all your songwriting experience, maybe you should try writing a few. You could add them to your play. Turn it into a musical.”
She rolled her eyes. Please. “I don’t really have that much songwriting experience. I mean, I’ve written a few things here and there, but nothing seriously.”
“Come on. I don’t believe that. I bet you’ve written half of Seth’s songs. At least.”
“I haven’t,” she said, her voice tight and tense. She didn’t understand why he kept insinuating things like this. Why couldn’t he understand that she and Seth were just writing partners? Providing feedback and helping each other out was just what they did. She’d never take credit for his work, just like he’d never take credit for hers.
“Sorry, I just meant you’ve obviously helped him a lot. He’s said that too, you know.”
“I guess.”
He cleared his throat. “So, you’re all ready for the wedding? The song’s done. Your tux is finished. Is there anything else you’re in charge of?”
“Not really. Honestly this best man thing is so much easier than being maid of honor. No floral arrangements or bridal shower or—”
“Or?”
“Shoot. I completely forgot about the toast.”
“Well, you still have two weeks, right? That’s plenty of time.”
She let out a loud breath. “It seems so much sooner than that.”
“I’m happy to read it after you’re done or help you with it.”
“Thanks, but I think that would make me a little nervous. It’ll be fine. I just need to get started on it.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, then.”
Meghna paused. She hadn’t meant that she’d start writing it right this second, but she might as well try to work on it some tonight. After they said their goodbyes, Meghna pulled out her laptop, but something made her click on a different folder on her desktop. One she hadn’t touched in a long time. She scanned the familiar pages and thought over what Karthik had said. What if she could add songs to her play? Was there a chance the whole thing might work better as a musical? She opened a blank page, and instead of typing a speech for Seth, she tried, for the first time in years, to write a song.