‘I will argue that your ideas were more set at sixteen than now,’ she says and turns to Saket. ‘And can you please click a picture of me?’
Saket whips out his camera instantly. He positions us with the sea and the bustling live seafood counter in the background, quickly snapping a few photos. He’s not happy, obviously, so he reframes us, asks the chef who’s passing to stop and pose, and clicks a few more.
‘Should we get some food?’ asks Saket, while Vanita checks the pictures. ‘This hotel has a lot of cheap British tourists, and they eat like hogs, so we better get going.’
The tables boast a spread that’s a little overwhelming: grilled seafood, including large prawns with dangling eyes, and tender squid that seem like they would start squirming at any moment, alongside skewers of chicken that frankly look boring next to everything else. Local chefs in crisp, white uniforms man the grills, flipping freshly caught seafood with precision. Instead of ladling food like he said he would, Saket clicks a few more pictures.
Vanita and I crowd our plates and walk towards one of the several long, wooden tables, draped in navy-blue tablecloths.
‘So yes, you will take time, but you’re going to say yes to him eventually, right?’ asks Vanita in a low register. ‘Nothing has changed, right?
‘I’m going to say yes,’ I answer. ‘Why? Why would anything change?’
‘So I’m assuming one of two things happened on your date with Daksh—’
‘It wasn’t a date.’
‘You realized you’re over him? Or he’s over you?’
‘It’s not as simplistic as being over someone.’
‘Okay, Imtiaz Ali.’
‘Our time’s up. It’s time to move on from that story. It’s ended. I mean, this is the best time to walk away from it. I don’t hate him for what he did, he doesn’t hate me, and that’s the best-case scenario. There’s nothing left there.’
Vanita stares at me as if she’s waiting for more explanation, but I have none for her. Sometimes the best outcome of a love story is escaping without hurt. Disappointed that it is what it is, Vanita digs into her salmon.
When I look up, my eyes search for him once more.
I see Daksh at the far table. He’s in a white linen shirt and white trousers, his hand clasping Amruta’s, who looks striking in a long, black flowing dress. He seems happy, she seems happier. They have a family already, a career they have built together, and they have a future. What could I have promised him? It’s a destructive, romantic thought, that’s what it is.
I turn and look at Saket—the gorgeous Saket. I can learn to love him. Parts of me already do. As he walks towards our table, he throws a charming smile at me like he always unfailingly does, and my heart leaps a little. We will be happy, I know. He places a plate in front of me.
‘This is grilled fish, a little spicy, wrapped up in a banana leaf,’ he announces.
‘You’re the best,’ squeals Vanita, unwrapping the banana leaf.
Just then, two fire dancers start preparing for their dance a little distance away.
Vanita gets up. ‘I’ve got to take a video of this.’
Saket and I watch from our seats as they start their performance.
‘Dangerous,’ says Saket. ‘But not synchronized. Could be better, no?’
‘I think we should do it.’
He swivels to face me to make sure he’s heard me right. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I think it’s a yes from me. I’m dating you, but I’m also going to marry you. We have a couple of years before we get married, but I want to know that’s where it’s going to go.’
‘If you want it, that’s where it will go,’ he says, blushing. ‘And, of course, yes. I mean it works for me, totally. It worked for me from our very first video call.’
He looks at me with a mix of nervousness and love. I know that I can learn to love him more. He would make that happen. I would make that happen.
‘I need to tell you something though,’ he says.
‘That you’re a serial killer for real?’
