“Right. I guess that’s the next time we’ll see each other.”
“It is.”
He rocked back on his heels. “Well, have a safe flight.”
“You too.” She waved a final goodbye, then turned and headed for her gate. The back of her neck warmed, and she was tempted to take one last look at him over her shoulder. To see if he was watching her. To try to catch some unguarded, genuine expression on his face.
But she resisted, keeping her eyes firmly locked ahead. Looking back was pointless. There was nothing between the two of them. Nothing at all.
Meghna was sure that every profession had its challenges, but at the moment she couldn’t imagine anything harder than teaching middle schoolers to sing in a Cockney accent. Especially when some of her students had a deep Texan drawl. A pang of affection shot through her as seventh grader Blake M. screwed up his face in concentration as he sang “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly” with the rest of the class. They were all trying so hard.
She sat back in her chair. Even if they didn’t nail the accent, the performance would turn out okay. They knew their lines. They knew the songs. The costumes were almost done. And their Eliza Doolittle happened to be an eighth-grade prodigy who would be attending a special performing arts high school next year. Things would be fine. Meghna closed her eyes and listened to the girl as she sang about how “loverly” it would be to have someone’s head resting on her knee. Someone who was warm and tender. And took good care of her.
Meghna thought back to the conversation she’d had with Karthik two weeks ago in Miami. Something about being in the dark and notbeing able to see his face had made her more vulnerable than she normally would have been. She was a little embarrassed by how much she had shared, and even more embarrassed by what had happened afterward. But she wasn’t ashamed of what she wanted. Wasn’t ashamed of wanting to get married. Of wanting a partner. She just hadn’t planned on laying it all out for him like that.
But maybe it had been a good thing. It had reminded her that they wanted different things. That they would never be compatible. That this was just a pretend engagement, and it couldn’t be anything more.
Her phone pinged with an incoming text message.
Seth: Hey! Have you had a chance to review that song I sent you? The one for the reception?
Meghna grimaced. She’d looked at the lyrics. She wasn’t sure if she was unable to be objective about his love song for another woman or if the song was really as horrible as she thought it was. The lyrics struck her as…trite, filled with clichés and over-the-top language about how Seth would love Julie until the stars fell from the sky.Blech. Still, she needed to send him something in response.
Meghna: Sorry, haven’t gotten to it yet. Will try to respond by the end of the week.
She put her phone away and wrapped up rehearsal, reminding the students that their first and only performance was only a week away. She waited as the parents picked them up and chatted with the ones she knew. They were all excited about the performance, and their comments helped dampen some of the nerves she felt about it being so soon.
After her last student left, she got in her car and made the short drive over to her parents’ house. She normally had dinner with her parents once a week, but she hadn’t been by in a while. She had toldthem she was busy with rehearsals and her recent travels, but really, she was avoiding them because she felt guilty about lying to them.
She had told herself that the fake engagement was harmless. That it wouldn’t go too far. But she worried that her parents were becoming a bit too invested in her fake relationship. Her mother kept sending her names of wedding planners and emailing different websites for possible venues. Her father was less forceful, but had mentioned on more than one occasion that he found it odd that he hadn’t met Karthik’s dad yet. He felt it was important for the families to get along, and he wanted to know when they could hold a formal engagement party.
Meghna pulled up to the driveway and went to the back door, stepping into the warmth of the kitchen. Her father stood at the stovetop, stirring a pot of dal. The fragrant scent washed over her. Cumin and ghee and home.
“Meghna,” her father exclaimed. “We weren’t expecting you tonight. What a surprise!” He turned down the flame and swept her up in a hug.
“A good surprise, I hope.”
“Always.” A large smile grew on his face. “Radhika, guess who’s here?”
“Well, it’s about time,” her mother said, her voice carrying from the other room before she even entered the kitchen. “You owe me twenty dollars, Akshay.”
Meghna’s gaze snapped back to her father. “You made bets on me!”
He winked. “I thought you’d be busy until the play was over, but your mother guessed you’d stop by this week.”
“And as usual, I was right,” her mother said, walking into the room with a triumphant look on her face. She hugged Meghna, then stepped back. “You shouldn’t stay away this long, beta. Your father misses you too much.”
Her father let out a booming laugh. “We both missed you.”
“Of course,” her mother said, turning to face him. “Now, pay up, jaan.”
He mock-grumbled as he fished out his wallet, but her father was clearly amused at the glee on his wife’s face. Her mother was the most competitive person she knew, and Meghna’s father was her perfect match. He was always willing to put up a good fight, but he lost with grace, sometimes even boasting about the way his wife had outsmarted him.
Meghna smiled as they bickered, but something heavy and hard grew in her chest. Some of that must have shown through her cheery expression because her father frowned in her direction.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, perceptive as always. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said lightly. She reached up into the cabinet and pulled out three bowls for their dal chawal.
