: Chapter 2

Thursday was typically family dinner night with my parents, but moving and overworking had me breaking the tradition this week. On the bright side, I could dodge questions about Yuvan. Circumventing questions was my specialty. I had at least three gold medals to show for it and might hit a fourth one for this week alone (crossing all fingers).

“Come to the house for dinner with Yuvan and his family. We can discuss dates. What do you think?” Mummie said over the phone that morning.

“Lots of work. Can’t this week. Besides, I need to take care of Liya.”

“Oh my! Poor, poor girl,” Mummie replied, and sent our conversation toward holding one of our elders accountable for assaulting my best friend. It was not easy. We lived in a society where a victim had to fight to prove her story while every skeptical doubt was thrown at her. She was villainized more than the actual villain.

I clenched my eyes, feeling the pain Liya had endured.

Mummie had a sudden fire in her that I lived for, though. I was content listening to her updates from the auntie squad. She’d banded with Liya’s and Jay’s and Reema’s moms and a bunch of other moms and orchestrated a plan to hold Mukesh accountable while Jay worked on the legal case. It made my heart swell with pride. Liya was strong and loyal and loving, and she’d found a match in Jay, who never left her side. It was a weird feeling to be elated for her and yet sick to my stomach for her.

I blinked and stared at my bedroom wall.

. But ghostly whispers formed in the depths of my mind and curled to the surface.

Why hadn’t my mom spoken up for me when the fois raged with seething gossip bathed in inherent racism about my dating Daniel? Where was this band of aunties then? I my situation wasn’t as horrific as Liya’s, but still…where was the community to support me?

When we hung up a short while later, I sat on the bed and lost the battle to scroll through my contacts list.

I lingered on Daniel’s number, wondering aloud, “Is it still the same?” as my fingers hovered over the cell phone screen.

Great seeing you. Sorry that I ran off at Reema’s wedding.

Just wanted to say that you looked nice. It’s been so long.

How long are you in town for?

I groaned, deleting the text as quickly as I’d typed it. What would I say if he responded?

Ugh. It was best to leave him alone. He probably didn’t want to hear from me, probably would ditch the apartment knowing I would be there, too. How could he ever forgive me? He likely thought that I had no problem taking four amazing years of dating, of being in love, and throwing it away like it meant nothing. He probably thought I was callous, even six years later. If he knew the reasons why I’d left him, there was no way that he would look kindly at me again. He’d have so much hate. And well…I wouldn’t blame him. I was a coward. Gold medal for that, too.

Why couldn’t I commit to deleting his number?

There was a profile picture next to it in my contacts, taken years ago, a masterful selfie of me beaming down at him while he lay on his back in the park. My sun-drenched hair fell over my shoulders as I leaned over him. We’d had the biggest, cheesiest grins. He wore a muted gray button-down shirt and I had on this bright pink blouse. I hadn’t thought much of the top, but Daniel had thought the combination of it all created an ethereal glow. Together we looked…

.

I couldn’t even delete this picture. In this frozen snapshot, all I could see was love and all I could feel was pain.

I remembered the day Daniel walked the stage for his master’s degree, when I’d met up with his parents before the ceremony. They’d never liked the fact that we dated, which was why Daniel and I hadn’t spent much time with them. His mother had been kind, although the quiet disapproval in her features wasn’t.

Daniel’s father had looked down on me the moment he realized Daniel and I were still together.

“That’s my boy, my firstborn, my legacy,” he’d said beside me in the stadium as we located Daniel among the other graduates. Daniel’s mother sat to Mr. Thompson’s left, while Daniel’s sister, Brandy, and her grandparents sat to my right. I didn’t understand why Mr. Thompson wanted to sit next to me until his words came. “Our family fought hard to get to where we are so that Daniel could have a better life and fewer battles. I don’t blame him for thinking things like choosing a future wife are simple. Just love. Treat each other well and all’s good.”

He’d turned to me then, amid applause for another graduate who walked the stage. He studied the stunned look on my face and went on, “You have no idea what you’d have to learn and sacrifice, being with him in the real world. Our world. All the business and leadership required.”

“I don’t understand,” I’d said.

“Of course you don’t. Do you realize he’s worth millions?”

My jaw had dropped. Not just because of the sheer amount of money but also because Daniel had told me otherwise. I’d never asked Brandy about their family’s wealth, as that seemed too personal and unnecessary to our friendship. But Daniel? I would’ve never expected him to lie.

“He never told you? Interesting. I wonder why. Was he afraid you’re a gold digger? Unworthy of the respect and responsibility that knowledge brings? You come from a traditional family, don’t you?”

I’d nodded, dumbfounded and queasy knowing where he was going next.

“Then you understand how a relationship like yours is doomed. Different cultures, different religions, different societies. We don’t live for ourselves because we’re not selfish. We have family and community to consider. Daniel needs a woman who knows our life, who’s better suited for it. I’m sure your parents want the same for you.”

He harrumphed. “You also understand how pursuing passion can destroy generations’ worth of hard work. You’ve been taught to value logic above anything else. So know that when I say you’re not prepared to be in his future, I’m right. To help carry our empire on your back, to support him as he uncovers his greatness, you’d have to be strong. And you, Preeti, are not strong enough for my son. You’re not adding value to him. You’re hindering his potential. If you love him and want what’s best for him, then you need to end things. Save both of yourselves.”

Even to this day, his words stuck with me. Logic over passion. Not being strong enough. He was right.

I’d never told Daniel, would never want to be the reason he hated his father when their relationship had already been strained.

The name Thompson flashed across my screen as it lit up with a phone call. I almost dropped my phone, thinking it was Daniel.

Thompson. Oh, lord! She almost gave me a heart attack.

“Hi, Brandy,” I said, trying to sound as relaxed as possible.

“Preeti! What happened to you at the reception? You disappeared. We didn’t get one picture together. Even Reema and Rohan were looking for you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. An emergency came up and I had to deal with it.”

“Was it my brother?”

“No. Much worse.”

“I hope everything is okay?”

“I hope it will be.” I twirled the end of my ponytail, desperate to tell her Liya’s story. We’d all been friends through college, and Brandy and Liya had clicked on a personal, fashion-passion level. But it was not my place or my story to tell.

“Um, how’s Daniel?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry. Did I even have a right to ask?

Brandy paused before replying, “He’s as expected.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know what that means. You know he’s messed up from seeing you.”

“No way. He can’t possibly be after this long.”

Her voice turned stern. “You did break his heart.”

“How are we even friends?”

“Y’all’s business is not my business, as much as I’d love to know why you left my brother. Like, the real reason, because him lying about his financial status wasn’t it, and don’t even try to convince me that it was.”

“He was angry seeing me?” I asked nervously, turning the conversation back and tugging my hair even harder.

“Angry that you ran off. Really, Preeti? You walked away. Not even a hello.”

“What am I supposed to say? How I left him was horrible.”

“I dunno. Woman the hell up. We all want to know the reason,” she prodded. “My grandparents maybe even more than Daniel.”

“Is that why you’re calling?” I stood and one-handedly packed medical books into a box.

“Actually, my grandparents are having a dinner and they invited you.”

“Aw. They’re so sweet.” I practically drooled at the thought of Grandpa Thompson’s marinated chicken and Grandma Thompson’s family-recipe Southern pies.

“It’s tomorrow night. Sort of dressy.”

“Lots of people?”

“Some business people, probably, and family.”

“Wait. Will Daniel and your parents be there?”

“I can’t confirm they will or will not be there.”

I groaned and dropped the last book into the box. “Not a good idea.”

“Just come early, grab some food, and head out. Grandpa will make you a to-go bag.”

“You know that your grandparents aren’t going to let me just slip in and out without sitting down to eat.”

“Grandpa’s insisting, really. Actually, they’re right here, and if you say you’re not coming, they’re going to grab this phone, and you know they will take no for an answer.”

“Oh, lord.”

“Listen. It starts at five. Come by, maybe, four thirty? The food will be ready, people might arrive a little after five.”

In the background, Grandma Thompson called out, “Pie!”

Brandy laughed. “Yes, Grandma. She’s making you your own pie, Preeti.”

“How can I say no to that?” I asked.

What was the worst that could happen, anyway?