“I hate it,” I admit. “I’m fucking miserable. I don’t know what to do right now.”
“Jules, please understand that I truly love you when I say this,” Lo says. “You’re being ridiculously oblivious right now, dude. You haven’t bothered to hide what he means to you, even if you haven’t said a damn word to us about it, so I don’t know why you insist on ignoring the Indian elephant in the room. Stop being dense and go get your man.”
I don’t know if Lo’s words somehow give me permission or validation or what. But something unlocks inside me, and I know he’s right.
I reach for my phone, ready to send another text to Arush. One that is maybe a little more straightforward than he needs right now while he’s dealing with the scary situation with his sister. But I need to know where he’s at. I need to know what he’s feeling.
I need to know if he wants me like I want him.
But my heart stops when I see that I somehow missed his fucking message notification and the words make my breath whoosh out.
Arush Bakshi
I wish you were here.
“I have to go,” I say, and turn the console off before anyone can respond. Arush’s words were all I needed. I know exactly how to fix this.
CHAPTER 34
ARUSH
My sister was sittingup in her bed when I visited yesterday. I was so relieved, I instantly started crying. I know it doesn’t mean she’s in the clear, and I know she still has a long way to go before she’s completely healed. The doctors are constantly reminding us that every little victory should be celebrated, but we need to keep in mind that a step forward doesn’t mean she can’t take some major leaps backwards.
I want to argue. Every milestone Ishika reaches means she’s that much further from falling back downhill. That’s what milestones mean. You reach them, and you don’t get to take steps backward.
I want to argue that she has two small kids. The only option is for her to live.
I want to argue that she has a family that can’t see her die. It’s an unacceptable outcome. If she dies, then the doctors aren’t doing everything in their power to save her.
Reality has no place in my hysteria. I don’t want to listen to reason or understand biology and science. For right now, all the knowledge of absolute certainty that science gives us is completely out the window.
Ishika must live.
When I’m not at the hospital or trying not to panic-pray for Ishika’s well-being, I obsess over Julian. I begin every morning praying that Ishika will heal and live a very long life, raising her babies and being loved by her family. Then I pray that Julian loves me and there’s a good reason he didn’t come to India with me.
It feels like a big red flag that he sent me back home, though. I keep trying to convince myself that I’m misunderstanding. That I’m reading too much into this moment. I’m trying to excuse away a lot, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m desperate for him to love me or because I believe it.
Thoughts of Julian linger no matter where I go or what I’m doing. The only thing that overpowers those thoughts is my sister overcoming the grip death has on her.
I absently chew my thalipeeth as I work on manifesting a future that I can’t quite see. I don’t know how that future looks right now. The future I’d been working toward with Julian seems shrouded in smoke since I’m here in India, and there seems to be a strange barrier between us now.
I probably put it there because of my hurt feelings. I guess I thought he’d come with me. I’d been so distraught at the news of my sister being critically injured that my father demanded I come home, and I hadn’t thought to tell Julian I wanted him to come with me.
It really feels like he sent me home, and every day I expect to receive boxes of my belongings that I left in Chicago.
But that directly contradicts the little moments in text that give me hope.
My nephew slams his cup on the table, pulling me from my thoughts. I blink away the fog of Julian and look around. Most of my family is here, eating our morning meal together like we do most days. There’s a somber note to it. Ishika’s babies maybe too young to understand why their mother isn’t here, but they see her absence and they’re getting upset.
“Arush,” my father says, and I turn my attention to him. “We’ve chosen a husband for you.”
Everything inside of me turns cold as I stare at him. “Dad?—”
“A deal is a deal. You agreed that if you came home without a husband, then you would accept the match I have for you. Did you not?”
Panic rises inside me. The world spins on its axis, and I swear, the table is about to come up and slap me in the face.
“Did you not?” Dad repeats.
