“I’m good with anything. Whatever’s easiest,” Priya replied.
“There must be something you want,” Mumma insisted. “Sev tameta nu shaak?”
“That’s perfect.”
“But that has onions. You know I don’t eat onions on Thursdays.”
“Khichdi-kadhi?” Priya suggested.
“We just had that last week.”
“Potato curry with rotli, then?”
“I don’t have time to make rotli, Priya. It’s not like I’m running a restaurant here,” Mumma huffed. “We’re having green beans curry withbajra no rotlo. Eat it or go hungry.”
Priya pinched the bridge of her nose as Mumma exited the room. Every day, she asked Priya for suggestions only to reject them because she already had the menu planned. Living with herparents felt like being stuck in a sitcom full of absurd routines and quirky challenges. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating. She tried to focus on her work again, only to be interrupted by a phone call from her ex.
“Finally!” Manoj said when she answered. “You’ve been dodging my calls.”
“Things have been a bit crazy around here. What’s up?”
“Well…” Manoj paused for effect. “I’ve finally got the funds to buy you out…”
“Why do I feel like there’s abut?” Priya leaned back in her chair and waited for her ex-husband to respond.
“See, you still get me,” Manoj replied with a small, nervous laugh.
“Go on. I’m listening.”
“It’s just that…I miss you, Priya. I know I screwed up. Big time. And I’ve regretted it every day since you left. Those photos of you with Ethan Knight really hit me hard. When I heard there was nothing between you, it felt like I’d been given a second chance.” He took a deep breath before barreling on. “I’m wondering if you’d like to meet up—”
“Let’s not, Manoj,” Priya cut in. “Whatever was between us, it’s done now.” What she didn’t say was that even if she could ever trust Manoj again, there was no returning to a life that felt comfortably dull. Ethan had changed everything for her.
“I’m not asking you to make any decisions right now,” Manoj insisted. “Let’s meet up and talk it over.”
“Priya!” Mumma called from the doorway. “Puppa needs your help.”
Priya sighed. “Sorry, Manoj. I have to go. Just transfer the funds like we agreed.”
As she hung up and hit Save on her work, an invisible weight settled on Priya’s chest. The endless interruptions—her parents, the phone calls, Lady Whiskerbottom’s funeral—were derailing her ability to meet deadlines and build her business. She couldn’t keep helping her parents while managing her own projects.
Priya headed downstairs to Moksha, where Puppa greeted her with a sigh of relief. “The technicians are here to set up the live streaming equipment, but they have a ton of questions,” he said. “Microphones, camera angles, internet stuff. Could you take care of it?”
“Sure, Puppa.” Priya went into the setup room and was greeted by a mess of cables and cameras. She stepped in, coordinating the arrangement of equipment and suggesting placements. Just as things started to fall into place, her father approached.
“Can you handle the reception desk for a while?” he asked. “Franzi is sick, and there’s a service starting, so I’m stepping in until Meera gets here.”
Priya glanced toward the setup crew that was waiting for her. She swallowed the frustration rising in her chest and forced a smile. “Sure, Puppa.”
“Thanks, beta.” He started walking away, then paused and turned around. “Oh, and can you help me book that violinist tonight?”
“Brooke is coming over tonight so we can work on Lady Whiskerbottom’s slideshow. Can we do it in the morning?”
Puppa gave a wave of agreement before disappearing down the hallway. Priya took his place at the reception, her mind too full of all the things she had to do. Just as she settled in, her phone rang again. She debated ignoring it until she saw it was her sister Meghna calling from India.
“Megs!” she said, her voice softening with warmth. “It’s so good to hear from you.”
“I’ve missed you too!” Meghna replied. “If I get cut off, I’ll call you back. The signal is still spotty at my end.”
