Page 101 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

With Riya’s visa in place, it seemed macabre for me to stay in India, waiting for the passing of Sangita. For the past few days, she’d seemed upbeat, albeit not any healthier, though I thought her skin had regained some color and she smiled more. With the hope of her recovery in my heart, I decided to travel back and return if needed. She was at ease with the decision.

That weekend, Tara called to say she had broken the news to Sujit. Now it was my turn to face Aarti and end our engagement. I also had to navigate that delicate tightrope talk with Dad about Sangita’s condition. But despite the difficult conversations that lay ahead, I was looking forward to seeing Tara.

Tuesday afternoon, I landed in Dallas and drove straight to my parents’. As I sat with Mom at the kitchen table, holding a cup of the rich, smooth coffee I had missed, I recounted everything, including the slender hope that Riya might eventually warm up to us.

“She doesn’t have much choice, poor girl,” Mom said. “We should’ve been more considerate sooner.”

“I was angry, and with so much happening, it was the last straw. I wish I’d had the maturity to consider that the little girl’s life would become collateral damage in the whole fiasco.”

“Tell me about her,” Mom said with a faint smile. “What does she look like?”

“Like me when I was that age.” My face turned hot, and my eyes dropped to the table. Mom touched my cheek gently.

“No one blames you, beta.”

“I do. I blame myself, and Riya hates me. She says she’ll trust me only because Sangita does. But why does Sangita trust me, Ma? After what I put them through, how can she trust us with the most precious thing she has?” I tried, unsuccessfully, to quash the lump gathering in my throat.

“She’s out of options. And despite it all, you made sure they never lacked for anything. You were bitter, but not cruel. That’s the difference. She knows it…I know it too. And there’s enough blame to go around.”

“But there was never a simple solution, was there? There couldn’t have been. Did I make the wrong decision?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Her eyes welled, and her upright, dignified figure slumped as she broke down into tears. I put my arm around her. I had not seen her cry in years, and I knew I had to be strong for her and Riya.

Mom wiped her tears and sat upright again. “Go talk to Pavan.”

Durgaben walked in with a glass of water and nodded at me. I left Mom in her caring hands and went looking for my father.

He was in his armchair again with the decanter of whisky by him, shining like a jewel in the sunlight. He seemed buzzed, and it was only early evening. It appeared he began drinking sooner and sooner each day.

“We got the visa, Dad,” I said softly. He looked up at me and nodded. “We don’t know how much time we have, but I’ll be there for Riya when it happens.”

He turned away toward the windows. “You took away my happiness, Sameer.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and turned on my heel to leave.

“I know you’re in love with that girl, Tara,” he said.

I swiveled around swiftly and saw him staring at me, sipping from his glass.

“Isn’t she the one you ran out on in Baroda?”

My heart dipped.

“You used to scream out her name in your sleep,” he said, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to happen. “I knew the moment she set foot in this house that she was the same girl. You masked it well, but I know what she means to you.”

I felt myself grow heavy and turn to stone.

“She’s a sweet girl. Headstrong but real, unlike other girls you were involved with. This girl couldn’t care less about your money. She’s confident, content with who she is.” I remained glued to the spot, listening to my drunk father talk cogently. “You need someone like her in your life. She’ll stand up for you like she did when I talked about you. She’ll protect you. She’ll make you happy. She makes you happy.” He grinned menacingly. “I couldn’t have that.”

He pushed himself upright and refilled his glass. “You asked me why I hastened your engagement to Aarti? That’s why.” He threw back the contents of the glass and glared at me with pure hatred. “You’re now stuck in a life without love. I couldn’t let you be happy. I cannot,” he said, and began weeping without shame as if the father and the competitor in him were at war. “I cannot,” he repeated amid sobs.

I walked up to him and took his hand in mine. He looked up, surprised, his face drenched in tears. I took the glass from his hand and put it by the decanter.

“I am going to end it with Aarti, you know that. I don’t care if it scars our social status or ruins my business. You made two mistakes, Dad. I only made one, leaving Tara the first time. I’m never losing her again. I’m going to do it right this time.”

I had finally said it aloud. I was going to make it right. As I walked out with my head held high, I heard a frustrated scream followed by a loud shattering of glass.

Jetlag was creeping up on me fast, but the prospect of seeing Tara and holding her in my arms kept me going. On the way to my condo, I texted her that I would come over around seven and spend the night at her place. Can’t wait to see you! she texted back. When I went over as promised, she opened the door in her apron with her hair tied up but her lipstick and makeup intact.

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