Chapter 44
The following morning, Manisha was greeted by yet another email from Rohit, complete with an apology and a request to meet and talk. Manisha still wasn’t prepared to have that conversation, so she archived the message as she had all the others.
She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready to face the pain of what had happened between them, and knowing that she might run into him at any second wasn’t helping.
So, she made the decision to do what she did best: run away from her problems. Her flight back to London was booked for later that evening.
She had a closetful of items there, and Deena, being the best cousin, had agreed to fly out next week to help her list them.
Together, they’d enjoy the last several weeks of Manisha’s posh Marylebone rental that was conveniently located thousands of miles away from Rohit.
As Manisha began to pack up her necessities, her mother appeared at the doorway of her childhood bedroom, observing her silently.
“Mom, please come in,” Manisha called out, her voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
Manisha wrapped her arms around her mother, embracing her tightly. They sat on the edge of the bed together.
“Isha, I didn’t mean to upset you so much.” Manisha’s mother spoke softly, her eyes reflecting concern and love.
“It’s okay, Mom. I was upset about something else. It wasn’t you.”
“I want you to know that I am always watching out for you, even if it may not seem that way.”
Manisha sighed, the sound laced with exhaustion. “I know. It’s just that I’ve been dealing with so much lately, and on top of it all, I’ve been trying so hard to make you happy.”
Her mother’s response was filled with reassurance. “Leh, why are you trying so hard to make me happy? I am very happy. I want you to be happy, too.”
Manisha’s voice trembled slightly. “Well, sometimes I feel like you’d be happier with me if I were married or at least close to it.”
Her mother’s reply was immediate, dismissing any of Manisha’s concerns. “Nonsense. I may say those things like a good Indian mom should, but deep down I know that when you’re ready, you’ll find love on your terms and in your own time.”
Manisha’s expression filled with a mix of surprise and hope. “Really? You truly mean that?”
“Yes, of course.”
Manisha hugged her mom again, and they both smiled.
“Sometimes it’s hard, Isha,” her mom said.
“Once, I had three babies who all needed me at the same time. But now, I have adult children all living in their own homes with their own lives. When you’re here, I cherish every moment and secretly hope you’ll meet your special someone here…
because I miss having you here with me.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, Manisha’s voice cracked as she responded, “Why didn’t you just say that? I know I’m returning to London tonight, but things there have changed for me now. I’ve lost my passion for law and—”
“Okay, chal. We will find you a new passion, my dear. You are smart and hard-working—you can do anything you choose.”
Manisha’s heart tripped over itself at her mother’s encouraging words—words she’d longed to hear her entire adult life. But she knew she wasn’t done with her confessions.
“Also…I need to show you something before anyone else does. I wasn’t exactly on my best behaviour in London, and well…one night, I said a few too many things to someone, and it was caught on video, and—”
“Manisha, I already know.”
She couldn’t have heard that right. “What do you mean, you already know?”
“Your uncle in London sent me the video.”
Her heart was racing. “Oh wow. So, this whole time…you knew? What about Dad?”
“Your dad knows, too. But what does it matter to us? We don’t need a video to tell us you weren’t happy. We were waiting for you to tell us.”
“So, you’re not mad at me?”
“Mad? Why?”
“For embarrassing you?”
“Chup. There is no shame in this. Something to be proud of when you stand up for yourself and others.”
Manisha took a beat to let her mother’s words sink in. “Others…what do you mean?”
Manisha’s mother retrieved her phone from her suit pocket. With a knowing smile, she tapped the screen to play a video, but not the one from that night in London. Instead, it showed Manisha advocating for Rohit against Lucky’s accusations at city hall.
“How did you manage to get this?” Manisha asked, astonished.
“Gurshan Auntie,” her mother replied.
When the video ended, Manisha locked eyes with her mom. “You know, I learned that from you. To stand up for yourself and your friends. You’ve always been such a great role model for me.”
“Rohit is lucky to have a friend like you in his corner, Isha.”
Her heart felt like it was one beat away from shattering, but she pushed aside all thoughts of Rohit to be in the moment. “I’m lucky to have you as my mother. You mean the world to me, and I love you so much.”
Manisha gave her mother one more hug.
As her mom rose to leave her to pack her things, she said, “Oh, and by the way, I left a box of ladoos for you in the kitchen.”
“Oh? And just how many ladoos are in there? Have you had any yourself?”
“Nope, not even one—because I got my own box, too.” She walked out booming her dramatic Bollywood villain laugh.
“Mom, your phone,” Manisha called after her, but she was long gone. The video was still up on the screen, and she took another look at it.
She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that, when she’d stood up for Rohit that day, she’d felt that their bond was more profound than simple friendship.
After watching the video several times now, she finally set her mother’s phone down, lost in her thoughts.
She picked up her phone, which housed dozens of emails between her and Sunil. Her and Rohit.
But as she scrolled through them, she noticed other folders beyond Admin had shown up along the sidebar.
Deena must’ve changed her access at some point.
She stumbled upon a folder that caught her attention.
It was labelled “Women.” Curiosity piqued, Manisha opened the folder and was pleasantly surprised to find more than two dozen bios from women who were also on the hunt for their Indian Prince Charming.
She smiled as she read through the bio for Payal, a thirty-three-year-old kickboxing instructor, dancing enthusiast, and coffee connoisseur who dreamed of travelling with her partner one day.
Manisha remembered Paul and his wacky love for coffee—they could be a match made in heaven.
As she delved deeper into the folder, Manisha realized that just because she hadn’t hit it off with the Arinders of the world didn’t mean nobody would.
Maybe there was a woman out there who wanted to spend her life with him and his mom, and good for her.
Manisha printed out all of the women’s bios, and just like Deena had colour-coded her matches, she did the same.
With her whiteboard in hand, Manisha spent the next few hours creating matches for all their profiles.
She hadn’t felt this determined, this focused, in a long time.
And with so many eligible singles at her fingertips, she knew she had the power to pair up every hopeful woman who’d submitted a bio before she got on that plane to London—and that’s precisely what she did.
She carefully sifted through each woman’s profile, thoughtfully selecting her perfect match, whether that was someone to cook up a storm with, a Netflix-and-chill partner, or someone ready to take another shot at love.
Her heart swelled with joy knowing she had the power to make a difference in someone’s life, even if it was just with one meaningful date.
She eagerly sent personalized emails to each person, inviting them to meet their match at Chai Time.
It was her way of making things right after all the chaos she had caused by deceiving Rohit and all the guys she had met.
And it was also her way of balancing out some of that pesky karma.
There may not have been a real Leena Auntie, but Manisha was an honest matchmaker.
And, at this moment, giving hope to others felt like the right thing to do.