Chapter 62
*****
The predawn air was thick with fog as Isha ascended the narrow stairs to the private jet, each step heavier than the last. Her fingers trembled against the cold metal railing.
Behind her, the tarmac stretched empty and gray.
She’d insisted on the loneliness, convinced it would be easier if Ashok didn’t take her to the airport.
Inside the cabin, luxury surrounded her like a gilded cage. Soft leather seats, polished wood accents, the faint scent of coffee brewing somewhere in the galley. But none of it registered. She pressed herself into the window seat, watching the sky shift from charcoal to amber as dawn approached.
When she called Chandini with her flight details, her cousin’s excitement should have warmed her. Instead, Isha felt hollow, replaying the last few months like scenes from someone else’s life. How did she go from despising Ashok to this aching emptiness in his absence?
An hour passed like water through her fingers.
“Excuse me,” Isha raised her hand to catch a passing flight attendant’s attention. “What time do we take off?”
The young woman’s smile was practiced, professional. “Soon, Ma’am. We have the Vice President and his family on the manifest. They’re running a bit late this morning, but they should arrive any moment.”
The words landed oddly. Another family. Isha frowned, trying to remember if someone had mentioned this detail, but her mind had been so fractured with goodbyes that morning.
A strange tightness formed in her chest. She was in no position of making small talk, or pretending to be fine when she was splintering apart inside.
She closed her eyes and dropped her head against the headrest. Just breathe. Just get through the flight.
The hum of the aircraft wrapped around her like a lullaby she didn’t want to hear.
“Isha.”
The voice was distant, familiar, impossible.
Her eyes snapped open. The plane was moving. Not just the engines warming up, but moving, taxiing down the runway, the world outside blurring past the windows.
“Stop.” The word came out broken, barely a whisper strangled by her suddenly tight throat.
What had she done? She’d been so focused on being brave, on not burdening Ashok, on protecting the twins from another separation.
But courage felt like cowardice at that moment.
The twins could have come. Ashok could have held her hand through the challenging times when her aunt would be in surgery.
“Stop!” This time her voice was louder, raw and desperate.
Her hands fumbled with the seatbelt, fingers clumsy with panic. The metal finally clicked free and she lurched to her feet, the floor already tilting beneath her as the plane prepared for takeoff.
“Ma’am!” A flight attendant’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Please return to your seat immediately and fasten your seatbelt. We are about to take off.”
“No!” Isha’s voice cracked. “Let me off! I need to—I can’t—please, I need to get off this plane!”
The words were still forming when the jet’s engines roared to full power. The sudden acceleration threw her backward. She crashed against a seat, then tumbled sideways, landing hard on one of the leather couches as the aircraft lifted sharply into the air.
The sobs came violently, shaking her entire body. The flight attendants were asking if she was hurt, their concerned voices floating somewhere above her, but she couldn’t form the words. Couldn’t explain that the pain wasn’t physical but something deeper.
Why hadn’t she asked Ashok to come? Why hadn’t she thought to bring Sami and Ravi’s children, her children now, to meet the family in America? Like the other family traveling with her had done, staying together, not fragmenting themselves across continents.
She’d been so stupid.
Time became meaningless. She lay there on the couch, curled into herself, tears soaking into the expensive leather. Minutes or hours could have passed. The plane leveled out, the engines settling into a steady drone that matched the dull ache in her chest.
Then something shifted. A strange flutter in her ribcage, like her heart recognized something her mind hadn’t yet processed.
What...?
Isha pushed herself up slowly, her hands shaking as she wiped her tear-stained face. Her hair had come loose from its pins, falling in dark waves around her shoulders. She looked left, pulled by an instinct she couldn’t name.
And froze.
“Ashok?”
The word came out as a broken whisper, then louder, disbelieving. “Ashok!”
He was there. He was actually there. Sitting in one of the facing seats, watching her with those dark eyes that had learned to see straight through her walls.
She couldn’t trust it. This had to be exhaustion, grief, her mind showing her what she wanted most. But her body was already moving, feet hitting the floor, scrambling across the narrow aisle with none of her usual grace.
When she fell into his arms, when his solid warmth surrounded her and his familiar scent filled her lungs, another sob tore free, this one mixed with joy and confusion and overwhelming relief.
“How did you—”
His lips cut off her question, gentle but firm, anchoring her to the impossible reality. When he finally pulled back, he guided her into the seat across from him, their knees touching in the small space.
Isha gripped his hands like a lifeline, squeezing until her knuckles went white. “Ashok, I want you to come with me.” The words tumbled out childish and desperate, but she didn’t care. “I need you to come with me.”
His expression softened, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I know,” he said simply. “That’s why I’m here.”
“And the twins.” She was rambling now, the words spilling faster. “We should take the twins too. Just like—” She gestured vaguely toward the other section of the plane, separated by a polished sliding door. “Like the family traveling with us. We should be together. All of us.”
“Yeah?” There was something in his voice, something knowing.
“Yes.” Isha was already standing, pulling him up with her.
“Make the plane turn around. It’s your plane, you can do that, right?
I’ll apologize to the other family. I’ll explain everything.
We’ll go back and get the twins and we all should go to San Francisco together.
We should have done this from the start. I don’t know why I didn’t think—”
“Isha.” His voice was gentle but certain. “Let’s go.”
She blinked at him, still processing, then nodded eagerly and turned toward the sliding door. She raised her hand to knock, polite even in crisis, but Ashok reached past her, his chest warm against her back, and pushed the door open.
His arm came around her waist, holding her close. “A few weeks before Sami and Ravi’s accident,” he said quietly, his breath stirring her hair, “my sister called me. Said she needed to see me urgently for dinner.”
Isha stilled, confusion creasing her brow. She turned slightly in his embrace to look up at him, but stayed silent, sensing this was important.
“That night, Sami and Ravi told me they were planning to go to San Francisco to celebrate the twins’ first birthday.
” He paused, his thumb moving in absent circles against her hip.
“I already knew about the trip but what I didn’t know.
..” His voice grew softer. “What surprised me was that they weren’t just going for a quick visit. ”
“What do you mean?” Her voice was barely audible.
“They wanted to stay. Spend time there. With everyone.” Ashok’s eyes held hers, full of something that looked like love and grief woven together. “Ravi chose to take a step down and accept the Vice President position at the San Francisco office.”
The world tilted again, but this time not from the plane. “What?” She shook her head, trying to make the words make sense. “But they never—Why didn’t they tell me?”
“It was going to be a surprise,” Ashok said. “They wanted to bring the twins to meet your family in America. Give them that connection. Give you that connection, without the weight of asking for it.”
Tears welled in Isha’s eyes again, but these were different. “Ashok, what are you saying?”
His hand came up to cup her face, his thumb grazing over cheek. “I’m saying that the least I can do, the very least, is to fulfill my best friend and sister’s wish. To make sure the twins meet their family in America and spend time with them.”
Understanding bloomed slowly, too big to grasp all at once. “Are you...” She couldn’t finish the question, afraid to hope.
He nodded, his own eyes suspiciously bright.
“Oh my God.” Isha threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking them both off balance. “Are you telling me—” She pulled back to look at him, searching his face. “Are you saying the twins are on this plane? Right now?”
Ashok’s smile broke free, transforming his face. “And I have a new job in San Francisco,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “We’ll be spending quite a bit of time there. As a family.”
“I don’t believe this.” The words came out in a laugh that was half sob. “This can’t be real.”
“Look for yourself.” He reached past her and drew back the sliding door fully.
The room beyond was larger than she’d realized. It was a bedroom, outfitted for luxury travel. But Isha barely noticed the elegant furnishings. Her entire focus narrowed to two small bassinets positioned along one wall, and the two sleeping forms within them.
Vish and Vaish looked peaceful and perfect, their tiny chests rising and falling in the rhythm of dreams.
Isha’s hand flew to her mouth. “Ashok,” she breathed. “Am I dreaming?”
He moved to stand behind her, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and sure.
“If this is a dream,” he murmured against her temple, “then you’re not the only one having it.”
She turned in his arms, and the movement was graceful despite the confined space, natural despite everything being so new between them. Her hands came up to frame his face.
“I hated you,” she whispered, but her voice was full of wonder rather than regret. “A few months ago, I couldn’t stand the sight of you.”
“I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding.
“And now...” She shook her head, struggling to articulate the enormity of what she felt. “Now I can’t imagine being without you. Not even for a flight to San Francisco.”
“Then it’s good you don’t have to.”
She laughed, the sound watery but genuine. “You’re ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous. Who does this? Who secretly boards their entire family onto a plane?”
“Someone who loves you,” Ashok said simply. “Someone who has been planning this for a while and today had to expedite everything.”
The tears came again, but Isha was smiling through them. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For knowing what I needed before I did. For giving the twins what Sami and Ravi wanted for them.” Her voice broke. “For choosing us.”
“Isha.” He paused for a moment before adding, “There was never any other choice.”
The space between them disappeared.
Isha rose onto her toes as Ashok’s hands slid up her back, one tangling gently in her loose hair, the other pressing her closer. When their lips met, it was soft at first tentative, almost reverent, like they were both still half-afraid this moment might shatter.
But then Isha’s fingers curled into his shirt and Ashok’s grip tightened, and the kiss deepened into something more. All the fear of the morning, all the grief of the last months, all the unexpected joy of this impossible surprise, everything poured into that kiss.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Isha kept her forehead pressed against his.
Outside the windows, clouds stretched endlessly white beneath a brilliant blue sky.
Somewhere behind them, the twins slept on, unaware of the gift their parents had planned, unaware of this moment that was reshaping everything.
“We’re really doing this?” Isha asked. “All four of us? Together?”
Ashok’s answer was another kiss, softer this time, achingly sweet. “All four of us,” he repeated what she said, against her lips. “Together.”
And as the plane carried them toward San Francisco, toward family and future and all the unknowns ahead, Isha finally understood what Sami and Ravi had known all along, that love wasn’t about being brave alone. It was about building a life big enough for everyone you loved to fit inside it.
She kissed Ashok again, letting herself sink into the warmth and certainty of him, while thirty thousand feet below, the world spun on.