‘Wh-what? Y-you knew?’ I stutter, unable to grasp what I’m hearing.
Shirin lets out a little sigh. ‘We did. We have. For like a week now.’
‘Aweek? What the fu—’ I refrain from swearing, hoping against all that is holy that I’ve misheard them. ‘You can’t be serious.’
But from their frozen faces, I can tell that they are.
Before I can pop off, Lipi asks, not unkindly, ‘Why do you think we wanted you to work with us so badly?’
Suddenly I remember how insistent they were that I didn’ttake the job at Eternally Yours. How they tried to sell me the idea of an epic summer of fun at SWX, booking and watching our favourite artists. I’d thought they just wanted to spend the summer together.
But now I think about it, they dropped hints that I only recognise now. They would randomly mention Salman here and there, asking me stupid questions about what I would ever do if I was stuck in a room with him or how I would react if I had to see him on a daily basis again. At the time I didn’t understand why they’d bring him up, considering they knew how badly it ended between us, but now it all makes sense.
What doesn’t make sense iswhythey kept it from me. Why didn’t they just come out and say it?
‘Lipi was supposed to tell you,’ Shirin says as if she can read my mind, ‘but it seems she backed out.’
‘The cards sa—’
‘Not the time, Lipz!’ Shirin and I shout at the same time.
‘We’re sorry,’ Shirin says, and Lipi wordlessly nods in agreement with her. ‘We know you’re probably mad, bu—’
‘You think I’mmad?’ I huff, failing to suppress the anger that’s boiled to the surface. To say I’m mad would be a disservice to how I’m really feeling. I amlivid.
‘We’re so –’ Shirin starts, but I don’t hear the rest of what she has to say because I end the call then and there, unable to stand the sight of them right now. I throw my phone onto my duvet and watch as it lights up with calls that I let go unanswered.
How could they do this to me?
They were there to witness the fallout of the break-up. They were there to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. They know that I don’t want to see Salman again. They could have warned me – but they didn’t.
A knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts.
‘Everything OK, beta? I thought I heard a noise,’ Ma says,coming into the room, a laundry basket in her arms.
It’s at times like this, I wish I could tell Ma about everything, but I don’t want her to feel like I betrayed her by staying with Salman after the fight and, even worse, keeping it from her. ‘Sorry, I was just watching a show on my phone,’ I lie. ‘I’ll try to keep the volume down.’
‘Well, don’t stay up too late. You’ve got another busy day ahead of you.’ Ma puts down the basket of folded washing at the end of my bed before giving me a kiss on the forehead. ‘Don’t forget to pack some extra clothes for tomorrow. I washed Sadia’s jumper for you, too.’
‘Thanks, Ma.’
I shuffle off my bed and pack my bag for tomorrow. I pull out so many extra clothes from my wardrobe that I could probably live at the office for the foreseeable future. As I go to empty my backpack onto the carpet, a thick wad of papers slips out. I pick up the forms, which are filled with words I scrawled – my thoughts about my past, present and future.
In the end, Sadia didn’t want to see our answers. She said they were for us to hold on to, to remember how we felt as we filled out the form, and we should keep them in mind when we help our clients find their eternal partners.
I think about ripping up the form – there’s no point in saving it, after all – but something stops me from doing so.
GC WITH POPPY
20:35
Shirin
WE’RE SORRY
Lipi
WE ARE
