Epilogue

Epilogue

Nash sat with his laptop on his legs, stretched out on the bed in his hotel room.

Hi, Kirk. Delete.

Dad. Delete.

Finally, he bit the bullet and decided to speak from the heart. This was his big gesture to his dad.

Dear Kirk,

I wanted to call you Dad, but I’m still struggling with that. I imagine I will for a while…but I did want to thank you for your advice. You told me that you hadn’t fought hard enough for Mom. She never knew how much you loved her. And because of your regrets, you’d missed out on a life you wished you had.

I decided to demonstrate a big gesture to Kiran and flew to India to be with her when her father had a heart attack a few days ago. She’s mine again. I guess I have you to thank for that.

All my life, I didn’t want to be like you and Mom because I was afraid of what that meant. But people are complicated, and as I watch my girlfriend reunite with her family, I realize how many layers people have to the actions they choose. Even this psychologist never appreciated it until now.

When Kiran was upset about her father, she mentioned that no parent deserved to face a crisis without knowing how much their child loved them. I had responded that no father deserved to regret bonds that were broken or words that were unsaid. And I realize that if I don’t give you that chance, I will be a hypocrite. I’ll be denying you your big gesture to me, writing to me at all and being willing to meet up.

I can’t promise you a close relationship right now. I can’t vouch for anything, other than giving this a fair chance…giving you a fair chance. And if you want forgiveness, then you have it.

Nash

As he hit the Send button, he was filled with a peace he hadn’t experienced before.

It was strange how life linked together. The lessons he and Kiran were learning were being taught simultaneously, across cultures, across countries, across the globe. Their parents had taught them far more than they gave them credit for.

Nash had never thought he’d be able to credit family for the experiences he’d had in the last few months.

Picking up the phone, he called Aunt Kate.

Nash laughed sheepishly. “Sorry…I wasn’t in a good place.”

There was Kate…never hiding what she thought. “You’re right. But it’s better now. I’m going to give Kirk a chance. We missed enough time…and none of us deserves to have regrets. And Kiran and I are together again.”

Nash grinned into the phone, struck by the accuracy of her words. “There has been. There’ve been a lot of beginnings, and I’m looking forward to seeing how they play out.”

* * *

In that moment, a flashing revelation occurred to her that all of this was wrong—not just the type of feeling you get when something doesn’t sit right in your gut but fundamentally against the way the world is supposed to turn.

She wasn’t supposed to be away from him.

How exactly was she supposed to convince her heart that Nash wasn’t meant for her? Any of the million reasons she had not to be with him—he was American, his upbringing was so different from hers, her parents wouldn’t feel comfortable, her father’s heart was already weak—all sounded like her brain reciting the laws of thermodynamics. Monotone. Memorized. Dutiful.

And for once, the laws didn’t have to make sense for her to know what was right.

On the weighted scale of life, the support for him didn’t exist. Kiran’s culture, family, and all else would take the balance to the ground in a millisecond. His side would hang in the air, no weight to it at all. But her heart, when placed upon the scale, would break it to pieces with the resolution it carried today.

There was no going back. She was setting herself free from the past.

Nash’s face lit up, like someone had ignited a fire in the pitch black. He stared at her in wonder, and before she knew it, he had pinned her down on the bed.

Kiran laughed, her eyes drooping in sleepiness. “I’m yours. I’m so sorry that I ever doubted it.”

The sight of his tousled hair called for her fingertips to run through it, and his lips so tantalizingly close were the only triggers she needed to pull him close and bring her lips to his.

Kiran’s arms rested on the back of Nash’s neck as he molded his lips to hers. The tip of his tongue slid gently across the middle of her bottom lip and sent flutters deep into her belly.

Her fingertips traced his back, sliding underneath his shirt and leaving a trail up his spine. Nash groaned, and she felt the goose bumps rise on his skin.

For once, Kiran wasn’t fearful. Instead, she got lost in the oceanic depths of his eyes and let herself feel unanchored from the world.

In a flash, they were wrapped up in each other. His strong arms lifted her weight as her hungry lips devoured his. She wrapped her legs around him, her fingers stroking the stubble on his cheeks and cupping his face as she kissed him over and over.

Kiran ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the soft texture between her knuckles and thanking her lucky stars in wonder that Nash had been sent to her and that they could be together.

Nothing could touch them now, and nothing ever would.

* * *

His faint heartbeat thumped against her head resting on his bare chest. Kiran’s hair fanned out behind her, draping over Nash’s shoulder. The white comforter tucked underneath her arms, cocooning their body heat and creating a sparkling sheen of sweat on their skin to add to the salty taste it had acquired from their exertions earlier that evening.

He gazed at her, a twinkle in his eye, and searched for an answer. “I love you.”

Amused, she gazed into his eyes with a soft smile at her lips. “I love you too.”

Those three words would never get old.

Nash had filled her in on meeting Kirk, and Kiran had gasped.

He pulled her close, resting his head on the top of hers and breathing in her sweet, musky smell.

Nash smiled. “No.”

He tossed the covers off himself and went to his backpack, unzipping a pocket and pulling out the now crumpled, travel-worn list.

Recognition dawned in her eyes as she stared at the list in her hands.

He handed her his own piece of stationery.

Nash felt a gentle sting behind his eyes as Kiran studied his list, her lips parting as her eyes rested on the final item.

FALL IN LOVE.

She grinned and leapt into his arms, kissing him hard and wrapping her legs around him. Nash had never been so happy. It was thanks to this girl, this ball of energy resting in his arms, that he had been able to cross that item off.

* * *

While Nash slipped into the shower, Kiran turned on his computer and logged into Skype. Hoping the connection would hold, she pressed the button to call Payal.

Two minutes later, it was as though Sonam, Akash, Payal, and Kiran were together at a coffee shop, though it was midnight in India and two in the afternoon in New York City. Sonam was even sipping coffee, to bring the imagery to life.

Kiran did. She spared no detail, recounting her mother’s parting words as she returned home, the shock of finding out Baba had to receive a triple bypass surgery—“What do you mean they don’t have protocols in place for those without money?” demanded Sonam—and coming to the decision to find Kirti.

Kiran noted her wide eyes hungry for details about a long-lost sister, reunions a long time coming, and love shared between a family. “Just like I remembered her…but magnified because now it’s not a memory. She’s real. She’s kind. She’s a mom. I have two nieces. One of them looks like me.”

Payal gasped, and Sonam and Akash grinned at the goofy smile on Kiran’s face.

And to that, they all cheered.

* * *

Nash rolled his eyes, and Kiran gave his hand a playful squeeze.

Nash’s suspension would end in two days, and he was flying back late tonight. Kiran would follow once her father was settled back in at home. But one thing remained to be done: Nash was going to meet Kiran’s family.

Nash had come to the hospital and remained in the lobby, helping to navigate Kiran’s father’s care with her to the best of his abilities, making calls to colleagues in the United States and friends who practiced medicine for second and third opinions.

Kirti met them in the lobby first, flanked by Gautam and the girls.

Kiran giggled. “You’re the older sister. I guess I’ll follow your lead.”

Nash gazed at Kiran, awed at the way she took direction from her sister and the way she immediately fell into the role of a younger sibling. After witnessing her take charge, watching her be babied was a new experience for him and one he loved to see.

Nash bellowed laughter at her question and leaned over, chuckling as she ran her small hands over his head.

Anjali’s two long plaits were looped around and tied with ribbons in a unique hairdo Nash had never seen before, but Kiran’s eyes registered a familiarity, like recognizing an old friend.

Nash was led by the small caravan of Mathur family members into Mr. Mathur’s hospital room.

Nash caught his name and put his hands together at his chest in a namaste. Kiran’s mother reciprocated the gesture while letting her eyes fall over every inch of him.

She was a shorter woman with strong features, much like Kiran’s. Her gaze was piercing, and if it could be translated into an attitude, then Nash knew exactly where Kiran got hers.

While Kiran’s father was still in a hospital bed, he reached out his hand. Kiran gestured for Nash to go and take it.

Kiran’s father expressed an emotion that Nash didn’t need to be translated to understand. He was thankful.

Kiran wiped at her eyes. “He says you brought me home.”

Kiran translated the comment, gazing at Nash’s face the entire time. Her father watched the two of them, his face contemplative, as he nodded. Nash wasn’t sure whether he was being accepted, but he had a feeling that he was at least being considered. For now, that was all he could ask for.

Her mother remained quiet for the entire visit, seemingly assessing Nash the whole time.

Kiran’s family hardly spoke to Nash, but he got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t being ignored. So much had happened in the last few days. There were shifts happening between relationships every minute—Kiran and her parents, Kirti and her parents, Kiran and Kirti, the kids and each adult… Gautam was as new to this as Nash, and he stood in the corner, chiming in sometimes in Hindi but still on the outskirts of this family circle.

As they stood to leave an hour later and Nash gently shook Mr. Mathur’s hand again, Kiran’s mom met his eye.

Slowly, she raised her hands in a namaste, and a distinctly different feeling came across Nash. This wasn’t a hello or a goodbye. Her expression, serious and unyielding, was one of deepest gratitude. And above all, her face was filled with respect.

Nash responded with the single formal Hindi word he had studied on the plane.

Thank you.

* * *

As the jet taxied down the runway and increased its speed, Kiran felt no need to clutch the armrest and pray she’d get to see her family again.

She had no worries that they’d be alone.

And she knew exactly what she was heading back to as the plane gently floated over continents on its way back to the United States.

Peace was a word that she had never completely understood until now. The concept that one could have no worries, live in the moment, trust in their relationships, and best of all, know their future was assured was completely foreign to her. There hadn’t been a day in her life when she’d experienced those things simultaneously.

But now she was able to rest her head against the window and watch the land pass below without an anxious thought about Ma and Baba’s welfare and whether someone would be there to look after them. Kirti was a part of their lives again. Kiran had no concerns about whether her own life would be full of love and togetherness. She had the CMC and Nash for that. And the magic in the small things, like knowing someone would be waiting at the airport when she arrived home, cast a glow on her skin that the sun had nothing to do with.

She was heading home.

And for the first time, home felt like a state of mind and not a destination.

* * *

The phrase “Blood is thicker than water” had always been a load of malarkey to Nash.

His loved ones had been those who weren’t tied to him by genetics but who had chosen him every day. But now, he was recognizing the value in owning the roots he came from.

For over ten years, his heart had been a Pandora’s box of confusion, resentment, and anger over the fact that his own blood had seen him as a disposable or avoidable part of life.

But now, a window into his heart had been discovered where his friends, his family, and Kiran could reach in and clean out the cobwebs and clutter when it got too messy in there. Sunshine poured in, and everything about his heart and soul felt lighter since the flood of fresh air had come through.

As he stood waiting at the arrivals terminal at JFK, Nash gazed at the reunions of those around him. People who were meeting for the first time. People who had only left temporarily. And those who hadn’t seen each other for years, their stories taking them in different directions before bringing them back to the same road.

And no matter how bumpy his road had been, he finally embraced the fact that it was his to own. People had come, gone, and joined him for the ride for short bits of time, but he had been exactly where he was meant to be.

The girl who emerged from the gate, with her toasted butter skin, was who he was meant to travel with for the rest of his life.

Kiran caught his eye in the crowd and pulled her suitcase toward him, increasing her speed until she was nearly running. Then she stopped and burst out laughing, a tinkling sound that he knew he would never get sick of.

He was wearing a Team India cricket shirt.

When Nash leapt over the barrier, too impatient to wait as Kiran walked around it, and buried his face in her neck, he knew exactly what the words meant as he said them.