Chapter Thirty-Eight
KIRAN
That night, Kiran sat in a daze on her couch. She had gone through her workdays over the last week in a quiet hypnotic state, unaware of any conversations or projects going on outside of her own.
Nash’s face replayed in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the chills that came from how empty his tone had been when he’d spoken with her.
She didn’t know what she’d expected—certainly not kindness. But disinterest hurt more than she ever thought it would.
Her phone rang, and she ignored it. When it rang a second time, she finally looked over and saw Ma’s name across the screen. She scrambled to answer.
“Hello?”
“Kiran.” A statement, not a greeting.
“How are you, Ma?”
“Did you break up with him yet?”
Kiran hung her head and whispered, “Yes. I broke up with him.”
“Good,” Ma said with more energy this time. “How is work?”
“They promoted me.”
Earlier that day, she had received a yearly bonus and a promotion to senior associate. She had mustered a thank-you and sent the compulsory emails to her bosses about her excitement, but inside, she’d felt nothing. A light inside her had switched off.
“Very good work. That’s what we sent you to the United States for. We’re proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Kiran said softly. “I’m glad I make you proud.”
Every day when she was little, she’d hoped to hear those words from Ma—words that had been doled out to Kirti on a daily basis and that Kiran felt she had to measure up to.
“You do when you listen to us, beta. I know it doesn’t sound like it now, but we know what’s best for you.”
“I’m sure you do. I’m going to go now, Ma. Payal is coming over.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
It was simple how quickly she’d fallen back into her parents’ good graces with a promotion and obedience. But conditional love wasn’t enough anymore. Their relationship had irrevocably changed.
Kiran turned her phone off and settled in on the couch again. She didn’t want to be bothered for a little while.
The teacup Payal placed on the table an hour later was a gong in her ears. “How are you, honey?”
“Okay.”
“Talk to me. You shouldn’t keep that type of ache inside.”
“Have you ever felt misplaced? As though you’re not quite doing anything truly inspiring and you’re going through the motions?”
“Yes. I think everyone has.” Payal crossed her legs on her section of the couch and settled in with a pillow on her lap.
“That’s how I feel. I was inspired with him. And now, the world is dimmer.”
“You have us. You have your family. You have your education. The world is bright. Your future is brilliant.”
“But the colors don’t seem as bright as they were.”
“You sound like poetry.”
Kiran smiled sadly to herself. “You know…I think love does that. Life becomes poetic, and words you never thought you’d use to describe something become the only ones you can use.”
“Preaching to the choir, aren’t you?”
“You can probably understand since you’ve been in love more than any of us.”
“All twelve times were brighter than the one before it.” Payal giggled.
Kiran laughed, and the effort it took sounded like a cough.
“Do you know I have a wedding box?”
“A what?”
“A wedding box. I found jewelry once in New Jersey that I fell in love with and wanted to wear at my wedding. It’s in there. There are magazine cutouts from over the years. Color swatches. Pictures of celebrities in lehengas. Bollywood CDs from my teenage years of songs I wanted to play at my reception. I have an entire box dedicated to how I envisioned my future husband and what my life would be.” Payal’s cheeks tinged pink, but she smiled unashamedly at her confession.
“I didn’t know,” Kiran replied, surprised that her best friend held sentimental value in relationships. “I always thought you were a free bird.”
“I am. I love being a free spirit. I love doing what I want…but I’ve always wanted the love story. I always wanted a man who would transform the way I saw the world. Not because I need to be changed or because the world needs to be brought to life… It’s magical already, you know? But because going through it with someone at your side is so much less lonely. It’s less scary to think someone could see you at your depths of misery and your heights of success and love you all the same. That kind of bond…that unbreakable vibe, I’ve always wanted that. I can’t judge you one bit for missing Nash or wanting him by your side when you think you’ve found someone that monumental.”
Kiran’s eyes filled with tears at Payal’s empathy and at the accuracy of her soliloquy. At the end of the day, she missed the feeling of having something of her own that had permanency to it.
“Now who’s the poet?”
“Ahh, well…like I said, love brings it out of you, I guess. But can I tell you something else, Kiran?”
“Of course.”
“There are family photographs in that box. They aren’t even my own! They’re ideas and pictures of weddings I’ve been to and the families in them.” She looked down at her hands. “For the longest time, I was jealous of you, Sonam, and Akash for having amazing relationships with your families. Sometimes I still am. I spent more time lying on Akash’s and Sonam’s families’ couches over holidays than I did my own and had a better relationship with my house mother at boarding school than with my birth mom. I could light myself on fire and my parents wouldn’t notice, other than to wonder who would take over the company.
“But you gave up your own happiness for your family, and your parents were forced to give up their daughter when mine would have given me away for free. I can’t tell you what it all means, but I can tell you I’d give anything to have parents who loved me the way yours did. I don’t deny how much pain you feel breaking up with Nash…but in a twisted way, this girl thinks you’re lucky to have family you’d be willing to put first.”
Kiran’s eyes widened. Her hand went protectively to Payal’s on the table, and Payal gave it a squeeze. And they sat in understanding silence.
Kiran had always seen Payal as the antithesis of how she grew up—wealthy enough to take island vacations and buy Louboutins, free enough to leave a trail of broken hearts in her wake because she didn’t want to be tied down, and educated at schools Kiran could only dream of, full of libraries and books. She’d seen glimpses of Payal’s vulnerabilities over the years—after all, being best friends had that effect. But she’d never recognized the depths of Payal’s wish for a family who loved her or a love that would choose her. She’d always seen her friend as a girl who was blessed in other regards, never as the girl with a hidden wedding box. For a split second, Kiran felt lucky that she’d had both kinds of love instead of being the little rich girl with none.
The perspective didn’t give her clarity, but it gave her respect. The burn in her chest was quelled as she took to heart the soothing tone Payal used and that while this choice was never ideal, at least she had experienced enough love from her family and from Nash that she could say she’d fallen in love and been loved growing up, even it had resulted in a heartbreaking battle between the two.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a family who adored you, Payal,” Kiran whispered.
“I’m sorry you had to choose between yours,” Payal murmured back. “But we have each other.”
“Always.”
That night, Kiran twisted and turned in her sheets until she was tangled up so tightly, she couldn’t break free. Appropriate. She fought against them, breathless, before finally navigating through the fabric binding her limbs together as patiently as she could. By the time she’d set herself free, she sat in her pajama shorts, wide awake, raking her fingers through her hair.
She’d never have a peaceful rest again. Every time she began to doze off or focus, a reminder of Nash would throw her senses into overdrive again. From the extremes of peace or concentration, she would wobble off-kilter until she was sure she’d fall and never be able to get back up.
Kiran readjusted her sheets in the dark and tried to fix her disheveled tank top before giving up and hunching over her folded legs. She pulled her knees to her chest and stared into the night.
Outside of her window, the wail of sirens served as a disturbing lullaby. She could hear the drunken shouts of those who had stayed out until the bars closed and the laughter of friends who were having a fun night in the city. She wondered if anyone was at the Top of the Rock tonight, staring down at her building…if they were sending hopes out to anyone who felt alone tonight.