: Chapter 32

Yuvan and his parents stood when we entered the living room. Even though we all knew this was coming, it wasn’t any less nerve-racking.

“Let them talk. We’ll discuss in our room. Come,” Papa said to Yuvan’s parents. They followed my dad, leaving us in silence.

I swallowed hard, my throat as raw as my emotions. “I appreciate you intervening at the hospital with your mom, but what are you doing here?” I asked Yuvan.

“Trying to salvage us,” he replied.

“I don’t know any part of what I’ve said or done that makes you think that’s possible. Not that it matters, but you had weeks to make a real effort. Why now?”

“Oh, boy,” he interjected, looking skyward and running a hand over his gelled hair. “No. Don’t do this.”

“It’s not fair to you if we get married. You know this isn’t what you want in a fiancée or wife. You’re grasping at straws.”

“Hell,” he muttered. “Because of ?”

“Because of me. I don’t want us to be together, and it wouldn’t work well even if I did. I’m in love with Daniel. I always have been and always will be, no matter how far I am from him, no matter how much time has elapsed.”

“Preeti, you’re ruining your life.”

“Now you’re the one who needs to stop,” I said indignantly.

He blew out a harsh breath. “Life with me would be simple, easy. We already have the same community, our families are friends, there’s nothing to adjust to. Our path would be set. How are your parents going to handle you walking away?”

“Oh. See? You’re forgetting the part where we’re incompatible.”

His face hardened. “You’re throwing everything away for !”

“You need to lower your voice or get out.”

My heart ached and my stomach seemed to literally plummet. All of my adrenaline began sinking. My head felt light and buzzy. I grasped the back of the chair beside me. Yuvan immediately came to me, his hand touching my back, and I froze.

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly and pulled back. There was such a depth of wretchedness and despair in his tone and on his face. His pain was almost tangible. I it.

I stood up, fighting the light-headedness. “I’m okay.”

Behind me, arguing escalated in my parents’ bedroom, and I wasn’t about to have that. “They can’t be here or ever do that,” I growled, taking a step toward my parents’ room.

“Let me at least do this,” Yuvan said. “I’ll speak to them and let your mom rest.”

He quickly walked into the room and removed a pair of irate parents. “Calm down, . We can’t worry Preeti’s mom right now.”

His mother said to me, “Beta, don’t make this mistake. We forgive you for what happened.”

My eyebrows shot up. Yuvan shook his head and lifted an apologetic hand between us.

Yuvan’s father spoke to Papa. “How can you let your daughter make this mistake? You’re her father. You must reason with her. Make her understand. She is a child acting like a child.”

“I’m right here,” I piped up. “We don’t work.”

And here came the backlash I’d expected. His father said, “You were defiled by another man and yet we still supported Yuvan because he wanted you. We supported you both, despite what people said about you.”

“Papa,” Yuvan intervened.

But his father went on, “This is an embarrassment! I told you not to pursue her! I told you she would break your heart and you said, ‘No, Papa. Preeti is a good woman.’ That we shouldn’t let our mistakes define us. Well, look at this situation now.”

“

” I spoke up. “You do not get to undermine me or speak about me like that. I am not some piece of property that you can dictate my worth based solely on your opinion. You will not demean me as a person. And you will not speak to my parents in anger. You have something to say, you say it to me.”

Everyone gawked in my direction. I might’ve finally found my voice, and it came out booming.

“This was never going to work. We all know this. Right now, I need you all to leave and let my mom rest. When we see each other again, you’re going to be civil and kind. You can go now.”

I glanced at my parents on instinct to silently apologize, but instead they offered supportive, encouraging bows of the head. For once, I wasn’t questioning how my actions reflected on my parents but saw them handing me the reins. It was both loving and empowering, and I absolutely believed we were coming out of this stronger than ever.

*  *  *

Later that night, the girls came over with their parents and Jay and Rohan. Liya and Reema’s moms unpacked home-cooked meals into the fridge. When the moms herded into Mummie’s room to look after her and the guys took to filling the living room, I took the girls to my room and unloaded what had happened earlier today.

“

, Preeti. You did it like that?” Liya asked, leaning against the dresser.

“I had to channel my inner Liya,” I told her.

Sana entered my room with two large pizzas, and we all sat in a semi-circle on the floor. She handed me a paper plate first. “I was going to get tacos, but I know how mad you get about soggy food.”

I blinked at her and then laughed for the first time since yesterday afternoon. “I guess I do get really mad at soggy tortillas, don’t I?”

“Like She-Hulk. Remember the first time we all ordered fried avocado tacos from Torchy’s and by the time they delivered, your tortilla was soggy and fell apart and you just about threw the table over and refused to ever order tacos again that you couldn’t eat right away?”

“I’m embarrassed that happened.” I pulled up a cheesy slice of veggie pizza on thin crust.

“Where’s the hot sauce and ranch?” Liya asked, digging around the second bag.

“Thanks for driving all the way down. You didn’t have to,” I told Liya.

“Like hell I didn’t have to. I moved to Dallas. I didn’t abandon my friends.”

“Did you drive this morning?”

“I drove last night. Stayed with Jay.”

“Your parents told my parents not to come to the hospital until they knew if your mom had to stay,” Reema explained. “I told Liya not to go until we had the green light. Which was the only reason I wasn’t there last night.”

“Don’t worry,” I promised. “It was crowded anyway.”

“Would’ve liked to have been there to buffer the situation.”

“Maybe you would’ve snapped, too,” Sana told her around a bite. “I think I would have.”

“Really? Sweet, innocent Sana losing her shit?” Liya asked.

“I lost it over Mukesh and your dad, and I’d lose it over Preeti, too,” she said firmly.

Liya smiled and nudged Sana’s shoulder with hers. “My baby is growing up.”

“Thanks for coming over, y’all.” I yawned.

Liya dunked a slice of pizza into a tub of mixed sauces. “We need to get you out of sweats.”

“Nope. Do you think the guys want to eat?”

“Eh.” Reema shrugged. “They’re adults. They can get food if they want. Your parents, however, will have enough food to last for days. My mom will be back tomorrow with idli sambar.”

Ah. The fluffiest of comfort foods.

My phone screen lit up. I didn’t bother checking who it was. Everyone I needed around me was already here. And Daniel? Well, things with him felt weird, off-kilter. I needed to figure out how to tell him about overhearing the conversation at the gala, ask him what his decision was, and if there was a future for us. First, I needed time to calm down for myself.

The girls spent the night, and as we tucked ourselves in, Liya put her phone on speaker. “You need to listen to this. Don’t argue.”

“Eh?” My head hit the pillow, my eyes fluttering closed as a moment went by in silence.

Then the soft strumming chords of a guitar came on. The song. My song.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as Daniel wordlessly played on speakerphone.

*  *  *

Early the next morning, I stepped over all the sleeping bodies in my room and swung open the door, heading to the bathroom when I noticed someone sitting in the living room. I swerved back and gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Daniel offered a comforting smile from the couch.

“Ah, beta. You’re awake,” Papa said, handing Daniel a cup of cha.

“Thank you, sir,” Daniel said as he took the drink and placed it beside a plate of Parle-G biscuits and mathiya snacks.

“What in the world…” I muttered.

He jumped to his feet and crossed the room to meet me in the hallway. “I came to check on you and your mom.”

“So you just came to my parents’ house?”

“You weren’t answering your phone or replying to texts.”

“I invited him,” Papa said. “You two have things to discuss.”

I crossed my arms and eyed Papa, who sat back in his recliner like this was a show for him to watch. I told Daniel, “My mom is better. Thank you, and thank you for last night, for playing music, for being patient as I sort through things.”

He ran a hand down my arm and took my hand into his. “Are you all right?”

“I’m getting there. I’m exhausted.”

He caressed my cheek with his free hand. “Do you want to talk?”

“I have a lot to say, things to ask. I just…my head is pounding and groggy, and I feel really sick and gross. Can we please promise to talk later?” In fact, nausea rolled through my stomach. Devouring copious amounts of junk food last night hadn’t been the best idea.

He pressed his lips together, a flash of disappointment and worry crossing his face. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.” He met my eyes. “Are you?”

I squeezed his hand. “No.”

*  *  *

“You’ve been moping for two days,” Reema said that evening. She kept checking her phone. In fact, all the girls kept checking their phones. Mine was under a pillow somewhere.

“It’s Saturday night and all of your friends are here. Beta, get out of the house,” Mummie ordered. She looked refreshed and relaxed and not at all worried.

“I was thinking I’d move back in and help take care of you.”

For the first time ever, she said, “Don’t move back home. I’m okay.”

Papa poked his head out from around the corner. “You want to move back in?” Hearts practically sparkled in his eyes.

“No. We’re not moving backward,” Mummie said. “Challo.” She took my hand and led me to my room, plucked my fanciest dress out of the closet, and tossed it onto the bed.

“What’s this?”

“Put it on,” she demanded.

“Why?”

“Life is short. We’re not going to feel bad the entire time. Put on the lengha, feel good about yourself, be extravagant or ridiculous, and move on. Then we get back to living.”

“Is this some psychology thing you heard about from the auntie squad?”

“Yes. Works very well. Let’s go. We’ll do it, too.”

I groaned but went along with this…whatever this was. In half an hour, the girls had left and my parents and I were all dressed in our Indian best, staring at our reflections in the dresser mirror in some weird therapy exercise.

Mummie had a shimmering pink-and-green sari wrapped around her. Papa wore a matching sherwani. And I was decked out in the pink-and-pistachio lengha that I’d worn to Reema’s reception.

“I feel ridiculous.”

Mummie squeezed my shoulder. “But you look radiant. Sometimes we need to shower, dress up nice, and look our best to feel better on the inside.”

“What now?” I touched the beadwork of tiny pearls against the light pink fabric of my skirt.

“Go, beta,” she said simply and kissed my forehead.

“Huh? Go where?”

“Don’t argue with your sick mother.” She held up my phone, placed it on the dresser, and left me alone in my room.

: Can we chat? I won’t bother you at your parents’ house. Come to my place tonight?