And for that, I need Rudra.
I open my phone and shoot off aYou up?text to him, and after a quick back-and-forth, we agree to meet near the edge of the row of tents.
I’m the first to arrive. My feet tap the ground nervously as I wait.
I don’t know what I was thinking shooting off aYou up?text like that to him. Everyone knows it’sthepick-up line,thebooty call. Luckily, when Rudra emerges from the tent he’s sharing with Varun, he doesn’t look like he thinks much of it.
I hate how good he looks.
“Did I disturb you?” I ask, arms wrapped around my chest to trap some of the warmth and protect my torso against the chill.
“No, I was up.”
For a second, we stare at each other, not knowing what to say, and I turn red, lowering my eyes to the ground. “You want to go somewhere else? I thought we could talk about Priti and the wedding.” I tip my shoulder in the direction of the trekkers around the campfire. “Somewhere more... private?”
Rudra funnels out a breath from between his lips. He looks nervous. But he nods anyway. “Yeah.”
We start walking away from the campsite, in the direction opposite to the one we came from, where I saw a few of the campers going. There’s a dirt path that leads into the thick awning of trees.
We pass small, closely set-together houses made of mud and clay, with thatched roofs and tiny glassless windows. This is whereI assume the locals—whose businesses profit off the trekking and camping tourists—live. I can peek through the windows into the dark interiors, the path lit by the dull yellow bulbs swinging in the wind.
After a few minutes, we leave the village behind, and the dirt path ebbs into the forest again.
“We could sit there,” I say, slowing my steps as I spot a couple of rocks up ahead. Rudra nods, and we sit. The trees rustle around us, leaves dipping and rising in the wind, branches reaching for the sky, wreathed by fireflies.
“So what’s the plan?” he asks, leaning toward me with his elbows resting on his thighs. I appreciate it when people sit like that when we’re conversing; it makes me feel like they actually care about what I’m saying.
“Before we get into that, I just thought I’d let you know,” I say softly. “Priti came out to me.”
Rudra’s eyes widen. “Oh.”
“I know that she’s after the bride, not the groom. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her about our plan. That’s still a secret.”
I scan his face, thinking about how I misread his emotions for Priti and interpreted them so wrong all this time. The love and care were there, of course, but they were platonic and familial rather than romantic. I let my cousins’ gossip lead me astray.
“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Rudra says. “I couldn’t out her until she was ready for you to know.”
“That’s okay. You know I understand.”
Rudra smiles. “Of course.”
“It’s the same reason why I asked you not to tell her about me—because I wanted to be the one to do it.”
“I hope it goes without saying that even if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have broken your trust.”
“Did you always know Mansi was Priti’s ex?” I ask, hoping I’m not prodding too much.
“No. Everything else I told you about Priti was true.” Rudra sighs. “I knew she was dating this girl from Powai, that they broke up, and she’s been heartbroken for a while. Her cousins were right about her being secretive, but I knew she would’ve told me when she felt ready. Only then, her relationship ended, and I didn’t see a point in asking her about it when it seemed like the last thing she wanted to talk about. I didn’t realize until today that Digha knows.”
“You overheard them too, I guess?”
“Yeah, and it kind of stings, but I’ll reconcile with it, because at least Priti is talking to Digha. Sometimes we need different things from different people, and she deserves to have someone to share this with.”
“You have, like, grad school–level emotional intelligence,” I joke, even as my throat is choked with emotion. Priti was right. She was so right. Rudra is an amazing guy, with such a large heart.
He’s making me miss something I’ve never had—and now, never will—with him.
Rudra shakes his head. “It’s just decency, honestly.” We sit quietly for a while, letting our conversation steep in our minds, before he asks, “So what’s the plan now?”
