Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
F or a moment, Arjun felt immensely content. He watched the slow rise and fall of Nisha’s chest, the way her nostrils flared ever so slightly when she exhaled. He felt the weight of her arm flung across his chest. He leaned over and brushed the hair out of her eyes. Then, he got up and went to make himself a cup of coffee.
Halfway to the machine, he turned around. That really was Nisha Nandan lying in the bed. And, last night… Oh, no , he thought, his heart dropping into his stomach.
Nisha stirred and propped herself up on one elbow. Her hair was messy, and she was dressed in the fluffy white hotel bathrobe. “Hey,” she said, stretching.
“Hey,” he replied, unsure how to phrase his next question. “Did we…?”
She laughed softly. “No,” she said. “We just slept. I didn’t drool on you, did I?”
Despite himself, he smiled. “I don’t think so,” he said. He felt immensely relieved that he and Nisha hadn’t actually been intimate—but there was also a twinge of regret, followed by a flood of shame. Oh, my God , thought Arjun. What am I going to tell Sophia?
He rubbed his temple. “Listen, Nisha?—”
“Wait,” she said, holding up a hand. “I need to tell you something.”
He frowned. “What is it?”
She paused, and her eyes found his. Arjun knew that something big was coming, a few words that would bowl him over like a thunderclap. “What is it?” he asked once more, his voice so quiet that he thought Nisha might not hear.
But she had heard.
She took a breath. She was still half under the covers. “I love you, Arjun,” she said, her green eyes sparkling. “I’m in love with you.”
There was a howling sound in his ears. It was as though he were ten thousand feet above the ground, soaring through the clouds. Nisha’s simple statement echoed in his brain, three words more beautiful than the finest song ever written: I love you .
“You…you love me?” he repeated.
She nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Why?” he asked, incredulous that a woman like this could have made such a proclamation about him, of all people.
She laughed. “Because only you would ask a question like that,” she said. “Because you’re my best friend. Because you moved my book back. Because, when I felt broken, you were the one who made me realize that I wasn’t—that I never was.” She sighed. “So, yeah. I love you.”
She looked at him expectantly. “Say something,” she said. “Please.”
His throat felt like it was made of sandpaper. “I can’t,” he said, the words grinding like knives against his throat as he forced them from his mouth. “I’m really sorry, Nisha. I’m really, really sorry.”
She shook her head. “Why not?” she asked, as if this were a debate.
“Nisha, I’m with Sophia ,” said Arjun. He sat heavily on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. “My engagement ceremony is in a few weeks,” he said. “This is what I’m supposed to do.”
She got out of bed. “Supposed to…according to whom? You? Your family?” She crouched in front of him and stared into his eyes. “You don’t love her, Arjun. You told me as much last night.”
He shook his head, then stood. “Sophia and I are getting married,” he said, telling himself just as much as he was telling Nisha.
Still, she would not relent. “Why?” she asked, standing with him. “You don’t even know why, do you?”
“Because I’ve tried it before!” he exclaimed, surprised at the loudness of his outburst. “I told you about Vicky Chang, didn’t I? And I know you think it shouldn’t matter—but it matters to me , Nisha. I got my heart shattered. If we got together, could you tell me with complete certainty that it wouldn’t happen again? That I would never get my heart broken?”
Nisha said nothing. She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Can you?” Arjun repeated, his gaze hard as granite.
Finally, she spoke. “Someone once asked me whether I would still marry my ex-husband if I knew how it would turn out.” She sighed, and Arjun could hear the tears in her voice. “And the truth is that I would. Because I was doing what I thought would make me happy. And, yeah, it didn’t work out. But if it had, it would have been the best thing in my life.”
She sighed. “No one can predict the future. But you can’t let fear and uncertainty stop you from pursuing your own happiness. Don’t you see how happy you would be with me?”
And, suddenly, he did see it, more clearly than he’d seen it before with anyone. The future wasn’t hazy like it was with Sophia. It was like watching a movie, the picture clear as crystal: him and Nisha curled up in bed, buying an old Victorian in San Francisco, raising their kids, and spending their lives together.
But it wasn’t enough.
He looked at Nisha and saw the tears shimmering on her cheeks. He wanted to hold her, comfort her—instead, he turned away. “I’m sorry, Nisha,” he said. “I really am.”
He walked out of the room before she could say anything else. He headed down the stairs and stepped out into the harsh morning light.
It was the first of June, and summer had arrived.